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She trembled in my arms, fear stirring in her pale eyes. “I don’t… I haven’t ever…”
I continued to stroke her hair, quieting her. “I know you haven’t. I’m going to teach you. And I’ll make it feel good for you, so you associate my cock in your mouth with pleasure.”
“You’re trying to condition me again.” I wasn’t sure if her voice shook from trepidation or tentative anticipation. “I don’t like when you do that.”
“You’ll li
ke this.” I skimmed my hand over her bottom before dipping between her legs. My fingers played through her soft folds, stimulating her until she began to grow slick in response.
“Did you know your body is capable of having multiple orgasms?” I asked as I played with her. “I wonder how many you’ll have before you can’t take any more.”
“Please…”
“Please make you come?” The question lilted with arrogant mockery. “Not yet, sirenita. You have to come into my playroom first.”
“It’s a torture room,” she countered, but the contradiction came out huskily.
“It’s where I play with my fucktoy. That makes it my playroom.” That had been true with the other women I’d trained. With Samantha, I wasn’t so sure. I wanted her to please me sexually and serve me eagerly, but that didn’t feel like enough from her. I craved more.
Then, her wetness coated my hand in response to the crass word. It seemed a dark, secret part of her enjoyed the idea of servicing me.
“I’m not your fucktoy,” she tried to deny me.
“It’s not an insult, so there’s no need to look so spiteful.” My tone deepened, so the words would reach inside her and touch the devious little part of her soul that had her soaking wet. “You’re my toy, my plaything, my pet. And you love when I play with you and pet you. See? You’re creaming all over my hand.”
Her breathing stuttered. “Just because my body feels one way about it doesn’t mean I like it.”
“Don’t lie, cosita.” I understood her a little better now. “You wouldn’t have watched all that kinky porn if you didn’t like it. If you didn’t long for it.”
“I longed for…I don’t want this with you.”
More lies.
“Then why am I the only man who’s ever touched you? You were so skittish at first. Do you really think you would have found pleasure with someone else? They wouldn’t have understood how to handle you. Not like I do. You need a firm hand.”
“I don’t,” she protested weakly.
I brushed a kiss over her lips. Her head tipped back in response, accepting me.
“No more lies,” I murmured, my lips brushing hers
Her pride was telling her to argue, so I’d relieve her of that impulse. “You don’t have permission to speak. I’m not going to gag you, but know that there will be other consequences if you defy me. The next time you use your mouth, it will be to suck my cock. Once I come down your throat, you’ll be allowed to talk again.”
She gaped at me, and I traced her parted lips with my fingertips.
“Just like that,” I said with satisfaction. “I’m not going to force your mouth, but you will accept me before we leave the playroom.”
She shook her head in denial, but she didn’t utter a word. My satisfaction with her easy compliance faded when her eyes began to slide out of focus. I recognized the signs that she was about to shut down on me, the way she had when I’d touched her pussy for the first time.
I threaded my fingers through her hair, tugging slightly. “Cosita,” I called her back to me. “Don’t be afraid.” I spoke sternly, commanding her attention. “This is new for you, but I’ll guide you through it. You’re safe with me.”
Her full attention focused on me, the same way she’d looked at me when I bound her in rope: like I was the only thing in her world.
Something expanded in my chest as she nodded her agreement, obeying my order for silence. Taking away her ability to speak seemed to calm her in a way any demonstration of force couldn’t. I could spank her ass red until she stopped arguing with me, but that left her humiliated and chastised, even if it did arouse her.
When I gagged her, she was able to let go of her panic and her pride. She couldn’t argue, because she didn’t have the option. Now, a simple order for her silence effectively muzzled her. It could be the result of successful training, but I suspected it also brought her peace from her runaway mouth. Samantha found secret release in this aspect of submitting to my control.
When I finally released her and began to lead her toward the playroom, she followed meekly in my wake, all earlier terror melted away.
