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“I know you don’t know the answer to my question,” Christian continued, a smile playing over his lips and his voice gentler than it had sounded a moment before. “Or, really, I’m pretty sure youdoknow, but you don’t want to admit it even to yourself. But I want you to think about it while I teach you your lesson.”
I blinked at him and swallowed hard.
You do know,said a voice from outer space.Of course you know.
“Wh-what… what lesson?” I stammered.
Christian lowered his chin and narrowed his eyes. I corrected myself without even thinking about it, speaking somehow simply from the fear that had instantly taken shape in the pit of my stomach.
“What lesson, sir?”
“I’m going to do exactly what I told you I would, if you disobeyed me. You made an agreement with me to follow my rules, and then you failed to comply when the time came to start your real training. As you yourself said in your messages to me, there have to be consequences. I’m going to seal your pussy now, and then I’m going to train your mouth with my cock. Then we won’t see each other for a few days. If you behave yourself and…”
My face went as hot as a supernova at the way he looked around my bedroom with an air of disappointment.
“…keep your apartment tidy, after our next date I’ll train your ass with my cock, then open you and fuck your pussy.”
Only when Christian had finished delivering this terrible statement of his obscene, degrading intentions did the words in it coalesce in my mind into something like sense. Then I had a moment of what felt almost like paralysis, as the warring parts of my psyche tried to do anything but lie there, looking up at him with fear-widened eyes.
After that, the same impulse that had seized me in the living room rose again, but with an edge of desperation so strong that it sent a huge surge of adrenaline rushing through my system. I rolled over and started to crawl for the edge of the bed. At that point I saw where the clicks and the whirring had actually come from: my bed, the ultra-comfortable haven at the center of my luxurious subsidized home, had sprouted webbing straps with cuffs affixed to the metal rings at their ends.
For a moment I wondered whether the actual intended resident of this apartment was an octopus, because it seemed like each side of the bed, including head and foot, had two straps attached. That impression faded instantly into a panicked, grudging appreciation of Selecta’s forethought: a sponsor would need as many options as possible for tying a girl up, wouldn’t he?
Christian showed me in the next few seconds that he knew how to take full advantage of a great many of those options. He took about as much time to pin me on the bed, straddling my midsection, as he had taken to grab me around the waist when I had first run for the door in the living room.
If I had thought that sort of manhandling—being lifted in the air and slung over a man’s shoulder—had an urgent, visceral effect on my body, this kind seemed to go straight to my spinal column and, much worse, my pussy. Having a muscular, fully dressed man keep my nearly naked body in place through the sheer strength and weight of his masculine frame put one thing beyond any doubt in my mind. Something deep inside me responded helplessly, out of sheer instinctual, animal compulsion, to the sort of easy brutality Christian seemed terribly comfortable employing to get his way.
I cried out in protest anyway, though, because another part of me knew I could never give in willingly. I struggled hard against him, as he stretched out first my left arm and then my right, and cuffed my wrists in the Velcro-fastened restraints.
“Apartment, tighten arm restraints,” Christian said, his voice not the slightest bit rough with the apparently insignificant effort of keeping me in place. The whirring came from under the mattress again, and I let out a desperate, defeated sob as the webbing straps retracted until my arms were spread wide across my bed.
I kicked with my feet, despite knowing very well that I had not the slightest chance of getting anywhere with the struggle. Even twisting with every ounce of strength, trying to get traction with my ass and thighs so that I could at least win the tiny, meaningless victory of making Christian work to hold me down, got me nowhere except further down the road to exhaustion.
He reached over my head.
“What…?” I started to ask, but Christian showed me immediately the reason for the movement: he pulled down from some unguessed-at compartment in my headboard another cuff attached to another strap. The circle of the cuff seemed a good deal larger than the ones he had used for my wrists. I didn’t understand fully until Christian turned to his right and gave another order.
“Raise your legs.”
“What?” I repeated, this time with much more fear audible in my voice.
“You heard me, Leah,” Christian replied. “I’m going to restrain you so that I can close your pussy.”
For the first time since he had delivered his horrid ‘sentence,’ in his seemingly self-proclaimed role as judge, jury, and executioner, it fully sank in that he truly meant to carry out the terrible threat. I had thought about…it… in the intervening days, of course. Really, I hadn’t had the capacitynotto think about it, but something in my mind had always remained convinced that even if some lunatics might actually consider doing…it… to a young woman—maybe even with her reluctant consent?—Christian Guzman, billionaire director ofMoonglider, a man who clearly liked me, would never, ever doit. Not a clearly reasonable, intelligent, if arrogant and dominant, man like Christian—he would never use some kind of superglue to seal up a girl’s pussy lips.
Least of all the lips of the pussy he had enjoyed deflowering just a few days before. Surely Christian would want to fuck my pussy, not seal it up.
Don’t pretend, said the reasoning voice from the edge of the galaxy, as I watched myself resist in vain, try to twist out from under Christian again without gaining so much as a millimeter of free movement,that you didn’t think about the alternatives he’ll have to secure his own pleasure, once he’s taught you that most important lesson.
The essential thing I had to learn:not yours… his.My most private places, and by obvious extension, the rest of me too.
Bought and paid for. Acquired. Kept for his personal use.
My voice started to speak as I exercised every remaining shred of strength to tighten my core and press my legs down against the mattress. It sounded like it came from very far away, and it spoke with such desperation that I felt bizarrely sorry for the girl who couldn’t even talk properly.
“Apartment…” I heard myself say. “Apartment…”
“I’m listening,” replied the calm, pleasant, feminine voice, after the second time.
