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In spite of herself, Callie shuddered. Her heart began to thud unpleasantly. Was he going to draw blood again—this time on purpose?
She almost opened her mouth to beg him not to do that to her, but instead bit down hard on her lower lip. Slaves were not to speak unless spoken to. She mustn’t give her Master reason to be angry with her. She must learn to accept whatever he chose to give her.
Finally, he stopped mauling her breasts. He trailed his fingers lightly down her abdomen. Then he cupped her shaven cunt, pressing painfully against her bladder.
She drew in a sharp breath, wishing desperately that she could close her legs. He would not be happy if she peed in his bed!
“What is it?” he said, apparently noticing her discomfort.
Oh, good. A direct question she could answer honestly.
“I need to pee, Sir. Really bad.”
“Oh, yeah?” he said, lifting his eyebrows, a sadistic gleam coming into his eyes.
Please don’t make this a test. Please don’t make this a test.
“All right,” he added, to her vast relief. “We don’t need another accident, do we?”
“No, Sir,” she quickly agreed.
Yesterday, or was it the day before? She no longer had a good sense of the passing time. At any rate, recently, he’d tied her between two trees in the back garden by her wrists after lunch. Leaving her there, he’d taken a long, leisurely swim in the pool. It had been almost peaceful standing there, the grass soft beneath her feet, the fresh ocean air kissing her skin and filling her lungs, birds singing in the branches above her.
But when he’d climbed out, instead of releasing her, he’d lain down on a lounge chair. Closing his eyes, he’d drifted off to sleep. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been left strung up. She, too, had somehow managed to doze, her head lolling on her chest, her arms completely numb from lack of circulation.
She’d wakened herself when she’d felt something warm and wet trickling down her inner thigh. She’d tried to stop, but it was no use. Once the floodgates had opened, there was no going back.
She’d spent the next anxious twenty minutes worrying he’d be angry with her for failing to hold her bladder. When he’d finally gotten up to release her, he’d wrinkled his nose and looked down at her still damp inner thighs. Happily, he’d been in a good mood, and because it was outside, he hadn’t felt the need to punish her.
Now he unclipped her cuffs and allowed her to roll from the bed to the floor. She hugged herself, rubbing the circulation back into her arms as he led her to the bathroom.
As she started toward the toilet stall, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Pee in the tub, hands on your head, legs spread wide so I can see.”
The first time he’d made her do that, she’d blushed beet red with embarrassment. Now, she couldn’t care less. Anyway, slaves were not permitted modesty or privacy. They were the property of their owner.
She dutifully climbed in, put her hands on her head and spread her legs. As the urine streamed between her legs to the porcelain, Damon watched, his dark blue eyes flashing. “You’re a disgusting pig, you know that?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied obediently. Sticks and stones…
“There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me, is there, cunt?”
“No, Sir,” she said promptly, no longer sure if she was lying or being sincere. What did it matter?
“I’m going to put that to the test,” he continued, unbuttoning his shirt. “I invited Master Wolf and his sub over to the house. I want to show them what an obedient, dirty little slut you are. They’re intense players, but that’s all they are in the end—players. Me and you—we’re the real thing. Master and slave. No stupid contracts or consent bullshit. I command. You obey, End of story. Am I right?”
“Yes, Sir,” Callie replied automatically, though his words had sent a shockwave through her being.
He was going to bring other people there?
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
Hope—that emotion she no longer permitted herself—flared suddenly, as bright as a shooting star against a pitch-black sky. Something inside her that had fallen asleep now awoke with a start. Her heart began to race, her breath catching in her throat.
This is it, that persistent voice in her head shouted urgently. His arrogance will be his downfall. No way they’ll think what’s going on is consensual. They’ll call the police. They’ll save you! It’s finally happening. You’re going to be set free!
Damon, his shirt now off, was watching her, his eyes narrowed.
She caught herself, suddenly terrified she’d revealed her thoughts through her expression. Or worse, said them out loud!
Closing her eyes, she willed herself back into a place of quiet submission. Hush, she ordered the internal voice, quieting its shouts to a whisper. Obey your Master. That’s how you stay safe. Breathe in slowly… Let it out…
