Page 74 of Silver

“I’m sure.” I step between him and Dante and open the fridge. “Are we done here? I need to feed my girl.”

Twenty-Six

Daphne

* * *

I’m more nervous than usual as I sit back on my heels, keeping my gaze trained on the floor. I don’t know how Master intends for us to celebrate. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened yet. I crawled to my Master from the cage, knelt before him while he fed me, kept his cock semi-hard in my mouth while he ate, and sucked him dry afterward.

I lick the corner of my lips to make sure none of his come lingers as I await my next instructions.

Evenings are nerve-wracking. I’m never certain what to expect after dinner. We usually end each day with me lying across his lap while we watch a documentary. At first, I thought they would be boring, but it turns out they’re usually riveting. And now that I’ve seen several while Silver fondled my ass or pussy, I get wet every time he turns on the television.

I’m like a trained dog. It’s only been a week, but I’ve learned to make associations between the oddest things. Turning on the TV makes me so fucking horny that you’d think we watch porn every night, when what really happens is that I’m conditioned to expect my Master to finger me while I multitask and learn something new.

It’s the time between dinner and television that’s always unknown. And tonight, Silver has informed me there will be a surprise. Those aren’t always good things. By most people’s standards, a surprise would be ice cream or a bubble bath. For me, a surprise could be having my Master stick a thick, heavy butt plug in my ass, one with a swishing tail, and then him forcing me to bark like a dog for an hour.

He’s never done anything like that, but I wouldn’t put it past him.

My breath hitches when he suddenly pulls something over my head. I think it’s a ski mask, and it makes me panic. I open my mouth and take a deep breath, reassuring myself that there is a hole where both my mouth and my nose are located. I can breathe. He hasn’t taped my lips shut.

Nevertheless, I’m trembling with fear. It’s been a few days since he’s scared me this badly.

Silver grips my bicep. “Stand, little slut,” he growls.

I obey him. I’ve learned that this cruel voice is one he reserves for when he’s training me. He assumes it on purpose at times like this. He’s not actually angry at me right now, nor am I in trouble. It’s a game. A scene, he sometimes calls these “episodes.”

“Step up to the pegboard,” he commands, guiding me in that direction.

I’m surprised when he turns me to face the room, my back to the wall. So he’s not going to cane my ass or do anything else that involves my sore bottom. He spanked me earlier. I’ll be sore from the harsh slaps of his hand for days.

“Arms above your head. Spread them in a slight V.”

Breathing heavily, I obey him. Mind over matter…

There’s no reason for me to flip out just because he’s covered my entire head with a ski mask. It’s a reasonable tool he has in his arsenal. Just like blindfolds and sleep masks. The man seems to own every sort of sadistic equipment in existence. Nothing should surprise me.

When his fingers touch my ankle, I realize he has squatted in front of me. “Spread your legs, little slut. I want to see your cunt dripping. Tonight, it’s not going to trickle down your inner thighs. Your pussy is going to drip like a faucet onto the floor.”

I whimper as he secures my legs wide. Now that I’m in the form of an X, I have almost no wiggle room. I won’t be dodging to the left or right to avoid anything.

Being the undeniable masochist I am, arousal is already leaking from my pussy. I can feel my blood pulsing in my labia. Anticipation does this to me. He’s not even touching me, and I’m a ball of need.

There’s a long silence. He does this on purpose to make me squirm. I have no idea where he is in the room. Occasionally, I hear shuffling or other small noises, and I jerk my head in that direction, but nothing brushes against me.

Suddenly, he speaks from inches away. At the same time, he grips both my nipples. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy your body is, Daphne?”

I arch toward him the scant inches I’m able to move.

“It’s perfection.” He twists my nipples hard before releasing them and letting his fingers trail downward. “My mouth waters every time I set eyes on your naked body. Do you know what I keep thinking, precious?”

I shake my head. “No, Sir.”

“I keep thinking that I want to mark you.”

My breath hitches.

“Yes. Mark you in a permanent way that will remind you that you’re mine every time you look at your body.”