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Miles moved forward and gave her ass a stinging smack. “Don’t argue with my guest.”
She could have spit in his eye, but did dare.
He snacked her again. “And wipe that look off your face or I’ll string you up like I didn’t do yesterday.”
Two pairs of eyes smoldered, just one spark away from a full-blown conflagration. Wisely, Tessa backed down, taking a deep breath and nursing the sting on her ass with the palm of her hand.
Letting go of Tessa’s straps, Martine grinned. “Quite clever. How long have they been there?”
Miles nodded for Tessa to answer.
“Almost twenty-four hours,” she replied, “except for when Hector let me go to the bathroom.”
“She looks good in them. I see you haven’t forgotten her ass.”
“And neither have you,” Miles answered. “I understand you fucked her there.”
“She should have been violated there a long time ago; it makes her more compliant, something in her spirit really takes to this kind of surrender. In the ass is so demeaning, don’t you think?”
“She seemed to enjoy it last night,” Miles agreed.
“Oh, of course she did. That’s what’s so perfect about our Tessa. The little tramp would have done anything when I shoved that dildo in her.”
Miles observed his accomplice carefully—appreciating her manipulative disposition. He had plans for Martine as the perfect Fem/dom for his slave. Their animosity sparked such desire. As long as the bitch remembered who was in control, the two would make a vintage piece of porn.
Hearing the conversation, Tessa pulled back, frightened.
“Don’t worry my dear, there’s only one person in charge here,” he assured her. “Martine is as much under my thumb as you are.”
“Yes, that’s what he thinks,” Martine purred at her lover, at which Miles pinched the bitch’s tit with a nasty twist. “Stop that!” She pulled away.
Miles chuckled, then walked to a closet where he retrieved a robe. “Here,” he said throwing it at Martine.
She put it on, while Miles slumped down in his overstuffed chair with a glass of German beer. Pulling up a creaky rocking chair, Martine joined him at his side, the two staring at the nervous submissive.
On the other side of the room, Hector was busy with the camera, for a time recording the scene—though he was far more interested in what was to follow.
Martine was an unpleasant surprise, even though he still found himself aroused by the sexy slut. Five years before, she’d been one of the most nauseating models he’d ever used. She was crass and crude—his biggest problem getting her to shut up. He didn’t see much change in her since he dumped her. But she’d be perfect for the scene Miles planned. Her heartless, glacial cunning would offset Tessa’s sensuous compliance.
“So what do you want to do to her?” Miles asked the roommate.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Martine mused. “You’ve filled her so well, it’s impressive, inspiring even. But what really inspires me are those stripes on her belly.”
“Oh?”
“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” she went on.
“What?”
“Whip her cunt.”
Tessa cringed.
“I want to mark her right between her legs, while she’s spread wide, wield a lash against all that bastion of femininity.”
“My, you are sadistic,” Miles exclaimed.
“Maybe,” Martine considered. “It’s a compelling fantasy. Ever since I read The Story of O, when “O” is whipped by the woman while she’s tied to the pillars… I’ve always known which part I wanted to play. And Tessa? She’s been the center of that fantasy for years. What do you think of that?” Martine called to her roommate.
