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“And again. Louder. With more conviction.” He cut and ate another piece of the fruit.
“I exist to serve, to suffer, to please and obey,” Mara said in a loud, if mechanical, voice. “I am a cunt, a piece of ass. I am the property of Pirate Island.”
Alex frowned. He ate the last of the peach and tossed the pit into the sink. “I don’t believe you. I think you need some motivation. I know just the thing.”
He produced a dog leash from a drawer and moved toward her, clipping it to the O-ring at the center of her collar. Turning, he jerked her forward. He walked quickly back through the living room into his bedroom and on through to the master bathroom, Mara scrabbling and scampering in her effort to keep up with him.
He unclipped the leash and moved toward the bathtub. He turned on the tap. Facing Mara, he said, “Do you like to masturbate using water, zero? You know, position your cunt under the faucet for a nice little water-gasm?”
“I take showers,” Mara said, avoiding the invasive question.
“You take baths now,” Alex retorted. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the tub. “Get in.”
Mara stepped into the tub. “It’s cold,” she said, stepping back as droplets of icy water splashed her leg.
“It is,” he agreed with a malevolent smile. “I’m not happy with your insincerity when you say your mantra, zero. Your heart just isn’t in it. Once you convince me you really mean the words, I’ll return the privilege of hot water. Until then”—he shrugged—“you’ll just have to endure.”
He pushed her down, forcing her to a sitting position in the tub. Using the ring on her collar, he dragged her forward toward the frigid spray. “Put your feet up on either side of the tub so your cunt is positioned right beneath the faucet.”
“Please, sir,” Mara begged breathlessly, her wet skin covered in gooseflesh, “please don’t make me do this. It’s too cold. Please. I’ll try again. I exist to serve, to suffer—“
“No.” Alex cut her off. “Shut up and do as I say. Now. Unless you’d rather I put your face under the faucet.”
With a cry, Mara scooted forward along the porcelain and positioned her legs as instructed. The cold water cascaded down onto her spread sex and a deep shudder moved through her body. Her nipples were hard points, the areolas puckered with cold. The water pummeled her sex and, in spite of the cold, her clit began to harden beneath the forced stimulation.
Alex crouched beside the tub. He reached across her body and placed his hands on her thighs. Using his fingers, he spread her vulva beneath the spray.
As her body adjusted to the temperature, she focused more on the now somewhat pleasurable sensation of the water massaging her engorged clit. “Oh,” she breathed as a climax began to rise inside her.
“Say it,” Alex said. “As you orgasm, say the mantra. Say it!”
Mara said the words, barely finishing the last line before the relentless stream of water pulled another gasp from her lips. “Oh!” She shuddered as a spasm of hard pleasure made her jerk away.
Alex pushed her back into position. “You’re not done yet.”
The water didn’t feel as good now. Her labia were numb with cold, her clit over-sensitized from the onslaught. She tried to shift slightly to change the flow of pressure, but Alex held her in position. “Say it again.”
In a supreme act of will, Mara managed to repeat the vile words.
“I don’t believe you.”
Alex reached between her legs and pushed the plug into the drain. The tub began to fill with icy water as it rained down against her sex. With a yank of her collar from behind, Alex pulled Mara away from the faucet, causing her legs to flop down with a splash.
As the water level rose, Mara began to shake with cold. “Please, Alex, please, sir. Let me out. I’m so c-c-cold. Please!”
“Say it with conviction. Say your mantra.”
“I exist to serve, to suffer, to please and obey,” Mara panted between chattering teeth. “I am a cunt, a piece of ass. I am the property of Pirate Island.”
“Prove it. Serve me. Submerge your head under the water. Don’t come up until I tap your shoulder.”
Mara stared at the man with speechless horror, the memories of his dunking her in the bucket that first nightmarish day looming dark in her mind. Even as every fiber of her being rebelled, Mara steeled herself to do as he said.
Taking a deep breath, she slid beneath the rapidly rising water. She counted to ten, to twenty, to thirty. Come on. Come on. Come on. Let me up!
Just when she had no choice but to emerge, her lungs burning, Mara felt the tap on her shoulder. She reared up, gasping for breath as the water streamed in rivulets from her face and hair.
