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That only made things that much more fun.
You’re a sadistic bastard, Max.
It was probably true, but he had a soft spot for the girl. He would never, ever give her more than she could truly stand. Though he intended to put her through the wringer, he didn’t want her broken. Rather, in a hypothetical relationship—though there was no chance of such a thing actually occurring—he would want her bent to his will. There was something about the prospect of it, of training her to serve his needs, in teaching her the joys of giving him pleasure, of being his pretty little toy. He liked that idea very much, indeed.
“Here’s what I want you to do.” He pointed toward the center of the floor in front of the couch. “I want you to stand right there. At attention.”
She seemed almost confused at the words, but to her credit she moved quickly to the prescribed spot, taking up station before him.
“No, not like that. Face the couch. Shoulders back.” He thrilled at the way the pose threw her breasts forward, their heavy jut calling out for his hands, or his whip, or his cock. “Good girl. Just like that. You have gorgeous tits, and when you’re with me, you’ll show them to their best effect. Do you understand?”
She said nothing for a moment.
“I expect an answer, Kelsey.” But he didn’t bark it at her. Rather, he said it to her in a way that encouraged, coaxed, the first steps in acclimating her to wanting to please him. To learning to be his good girl.
“Yes… I don’t know what to call you.”
He smiled at her, chuckling lightly. “You can call me ‘sir,’ for now.”
While standing profile to him, she looked at him quickly out of the corner of her eye. “I… I understand, sir.”
“You’re a quick learner.” He walked behind her then, lingering there for a long moment, hoping it made her nervous. He wanted her mind turning itself upside down with anticipation and worry about what he might do to her next.
He came back around to stand in front of her, his arms crossed. It was time to throw her off balance. “We need to have a talk, you and I. About all the times over the past many months that you’ve acted like a flirty little slut. We’re going to be addressing those tonight, do you understand me?”
She seemed to choke on the words for a moment, then swallowed, apparently choosing silence as the better part of valor.
Smart girl.
“Your dress, your little comments and innuendos, and especially your disobedience. They are unacceptable. They’ve been unacceptable, and yet you’ve persisted with them. I’ve had a theory about you for a while now. Shall I tell you what it is?”
“I don’t know that I—”
“Keep your mouth shut, girl. That’s a rhetorical question. I want you silent, and listening, and obeying. So, until I ask you a direct question, I expect silence out of you. You’re going to learn some discipline, Kelsey. And the first lesson in that is controlling that sharp little tongue of yours.”
Her face was almost sheet white at that, but she clamped her mouth shut. She was a fast learner. There was something else happening here, and it both surprised and delighted him. And it deeply turned him on, too.
She was clearly aroused, the smell of her cunt heavy on the air already—and he hadn’t even taken her clothes off yet. He suspected her pussy was already a sopping mess, something he looked forward to verifying himself—and shaming her for what he found. Her nipples were positively steel hard, tenting the tank top. He reached out, thumbing one of them. She hissed in response, though it may have just been a reflex on her part.
“Put your hands on your head, and lace your fingers together. Do it.”
Making a tiny sound of protest, she obeyed, those round, heavy breasts lifting ever so slightly in the new position. He played with her little nipple again, then the other one, going back and forth, tweaking it, twisting it until her nostrils flared and her breathing began to pick up pace.
“These, Kelsey girl, these aren’t lying. My living room already smells like a whorehouse from your dripping cunt, and these nipples look hard enough to etch glass. Are you a slut, Kelsey?”
She gasped at that, and he reveled in the fact that she was completely surprised by the question. He wondered though at the real answer, knowing that she would surely deny it.
But one of the things he’d found over the years was that most women, when they finally let their guard down, could be just as much the pervy little lust-obsessed animals as the men were. Women just had better PR, knew how to fool men, to disguise—or at least rationalize away—the true depths of their animal, sexual natures.
Max knew though, he understood, and he suspected Kelsey was one of those most remarkable specimens, a woman who was really just a sex-crazed kitten. He looked forward to finding out for himself.
He began to walk in a circle around her, not saying anything at first, but making sure she saw him looking her up and down. Now and then, he would touch her, smoothing a hand over a hip, lifting a breast upon his palm, tracing the whorl of her navel through her tank top.
“Strip.” He paused, waiting to see if she would obey the terse order.
“W-what?”
“I said, strip. Take your clothes off—all of them.” He gave her ass a quick slap. It was totally unnecessary, of course, but he wanted her to know as early as possible that while he had her under his thumb, there was no such thing as a bodily autonomy for Kelsey anymore. “Take them off one item at a time. I want to get a good look at your body.”
