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“Breathe, cosita,” I urged, not alleviating any of the mild pressure I was exerting. She could still breathe, if she focused and stopped struggling. She would get as much oxygen as I allowed her to have. It seemed she truly did need a lesson in humility.
She stopped fighting, her body softening against mine as she drew in as much air as she could. I continued to hold her slender neck as I reached between her legs with my free hand.
She was even wetter than I’d anticipated, her labia still slick despite the water cascading over her skin. Was she aroused from stimulating my cock and drawing out my orgasm? Or was she turned on by my hand on her throat?
I allowed myself to imagine it was a little of both. Samantha was perfectly suited to my needs.
Her pulse jumped beneath my palm as I moved my touch farther back, my forefinger finding her puckered bud. She jerked in my hold and choked when she tried to suck in a gasp. I gave her a moment to remember how to breathe before applying pressure to her asshole. She clenched, denying my entrance. Although I could easily penetrate her by force, I didn’t want to damage her. I intended to train her to enjoy every form of sexual stimulation. She would take me in all her holes, in every way I desired.
I nipped at her earlobe, giving her the little bite of pain that I’d already learned she enjoyed. Her lower muscles contracted, then eased. My fingertip slipped inside her, stretching her virgin asshole for the first time.
“Are you sorry for scratching me?” I asked evenly.
She managed a little whine, and she nodded as best she could with my hand around her neck.
I kissed the hollow beneath her ear. “Good girl. Don’t do it again.”
I reinforced my edict by pressing forward, sliding my finger deeper inside her. She squirmed slightly, but she could barely move with my body trapping hers against the wall. The little wiggle of her hips only eased my way in, her tight ring of muscles gripping me hard.
I finally released her throat, and I had to catch her around her waist as soon as she drew in a deep gasp. The rush of oxygen would make her head spin, and she sagged in my arms.
That didn’t spare her from her lesson in humility. If anything, her vulnerable state only helped drive home the message: she was powerless to resist me. She would be a meek, good little fucktoy; utterly obedient and devoted to me.
I slid my middle finger into her soaked pussy, impaling both of her tight holes as I braced my palm on her ass to support her weight.
Something between a defeated sob and ecstatic shout tore from her throat, and her inner muscles convulsed around me. I pumped into her gently as she shuddered in my arms, her orgasm claiming her with shameful force. She loved everything I did to her, despite what she might want to tell herself. Her body told the truth. Her mind would come to accept the irreversible reality of our Master/slave dynamic.
When she began to tremble and went quiet, I decided to give her a reprieve. I released her from my disciplinary hold and quickly cleaned up before shutting off the water.
I lifted her in my arms again, noting that her eyes were closed. If she thought she could hide from me by floating in darkness, she was mistaken.
For now, I’d allow her mind to drift. She wasn’t fighting me or sassing me, so I’d permit her this moment of peace.
Her eyes squeezed more tightly shut when I began to run a fluffy towel over her sensitized skin, drying her with tender care. Her chin tucked closer to her chest, and her cheeks colored. She might be trying to shut me out, but she was thoroughly aware of her shameful defeat.
Chapter 6
When I was satisfied that the droplets of water had been dried from Samantha’s skin, I laid her down on the bed so I could dry my own body. After a moment’s hesitation, I slung the towel low over my hips. I’d spare her more contact with my cock until later. For now, I needed to take care of mí sirenita. Her brow remained furrowed, and her knees lifted close to her chest as she curled up protectively on the bed.
She didn’t need protection from me. I’d prove that to her.
I sat on the edge of the mattress and lifted her back in my arms, positioning her so she was curled up in my lap instead of on the bed. She was stiff in my hold, but she remained upright when I released her, leaning into my chest slightly for support despite her rigid spine.
I picked up the hairbrush I’d brought from the bathroom and began to carefully work it through her damp hair, smoothing the tangles I’d created when I’d wrapped the fiery strands around my fist. She let out a little sigh, the fine lines easing from her brow as she softened slightly, leaning deeper into me.
“I’m not a doll,” she grumbled, but there was no bite in the words. Her eyes remained closed, but she slowly melted against me as I continued to stroke the brush through her hair, allowing the bristles to stimulate her scalp.
“Hmmm,” I mused, pleased with her submissive posture. Her weak attempt at defiance was cute. “You’re not a pet. You’re not a doll. Is there anything you do want to be, sirenita?”
“What does that mean?” she asked instead of answering my question.
I decided to let her evasiveness slide. She likely didn’t have an answer for me, anyway. She wasn’t ready to admit that she enjoyed being my pretty plaything, even if she had just shattered twice under my hands.
“A literal translation would be little mermaid,” I replied.
Her eyes finally opened, but they were narrowed as they searched my face. “You mean, like the Disney princess?”
I chuckled. “It’s an endearment. It means I find you beautiful.” I traced the line of her lower lip with my thumb, and my voice dropped to a deeper register. “Sensual.”
