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A strangled sob escapes my throat at this pronouncement.
“Shhh, Pretty Toy. We don't hurt good girls, and you're going to be our good girl, right?”
“Y-yes, Master.”
I'm already mentally plotting ways to escape. I can use my “prison yard time” to find someone who can get this fucking collar off me and transfer money out of that account and get the fuck as far from them as possible—like I should have done from the beginning. It doesn't matter how much I want and need them to touch me. I cannot continue down this road.
Declan chuckles, as though he can read these thoughts right out of my head. And probably he can. I'm not able to hide my true feelings in the way they can behind a face trained to show the expected emotions.
“You will not seek help from any of the staff as they come and go. They're all here illegally. They know the consequences of interfering in our personal affairs. And you will be seriously punished,” Declan says.
I swallow hard and nod my understanding. I believe him. Somehow I know I've never been seriously punished by them. I may have been played with and by them, but my punishments have been warnings... tastes of theoretical terrors should I breach the limits of their patience.
Seven helps me to stand, and they lead me downstairs, back down that long hallway to the dungeon. My heart is beating so fast, and I don't know if it's fear or arousal.
The dungeon feels different now. As much as I loved the Seven who I thought was trying to protect me, I also kind of hated him. I hated that extra bit of shame I felt because he wasn't fully on board. I hated that I had to carry that shame long after I was already broken and ready to please and be pleased by both of them.
He was always the holdout, except that he never was.
When we get to the dungeon, I kneel again. I don't wait to be commanded. I just do it.
“Good girl,” Seven says. It continues to feel strange when he takes this role that had previously only been Declan's domain. He bends down, his hand going between my legs. “I think it's time to wax this pussy, don't you, Kitten?”
My breath goes shallow. “Y-yes, Master.”
“I'll heat the wax,” Declan says, disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.
I'm scared now because waxing hurts, and I don't have the greatest pain threshold. After a while, you get used to it, and it's not so bad when a professional does it. But Seven and Declan aren't professionals, and I'm afraid it will hurt more because of that. But I don't voice this concern. I do, however, wish that I'd made a waxing appointment for Friday before I went out for drinks. I knew it was about time to do it, but I was so wrapped up in my own self-pity—poor little newly rich girl—that it didn't occur to me.
Seven helps me off the floor and guides me to a St. Andrew's Cross leaned against one exposed brick wall. I've never been bound to this before. Spanking benches, yes. And the bondage bed was Declan's favorite. It's convenient and far more comfortable than it looks.
“M-Master? Did I do something wrong?”
He laughs at this. “I haven't gotten to punish you yet. Don't you think I should get to?”
“Yes, Master.” It's almost a whisper.
“I could give you a list of your minor missteps, all adding up to a justification, but I don't need a justification. You aremine. I will do whatever I want with you.”
Suddenly, the waxing is the last thing on my mind.
He nods toward the St. Andrew's Cross. I turn away from him and spread my arms and legs out so he can bind me to the end points. I close my eyes. I don't want to watch him picking whatever it is he plans to use on me. I hope it's not the cane.
I cry out at the unexpected pain of a paddle landing hard against my ass. In its own way it's just as bad as the cane. The tears come immediately after only the first blow. He rubs my heated flesh.
“Yes, Kitten. I like how you don't hold back. Let me have those pretty tears. I'm jealous you only gave them to Declan for so long.”
He paddles me as though I truly have done something worthy of punishment, and something about this particular implement makes me feel contrite even as the space between my legs responds with arousal.
He stops and presses his body against mine. I feel his erection through his pants. He steps away again and gives me another hard smack with the paddle. I'm blubbering and sobbing.
“Please,” I whimper. If I knew of some wrong I'd committed that deserved punishment I would beg forgiveness, but I know he's doing this for his own gratification. He strokes my skin again and presses a kiss to my tear-streaked cheek.
“Shhhh, Kitten.”
Then there is a vibrating toy between my legs. I squirm and twist trying to gain more contact every time he pulls it away. Unlike Declan, he likes to tease me with the lowest setting so long that I think I'll lose my mind from it.
“Master, please...”
