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He nods and stands up. After he drains the bathtub, he undoes my cuffs. He hands me a towel to dry myself.
When I’m done, he orders me to dry him, and I do so gratefully, toweling the water off his hard, sculpted body.
Then he wraps a towel around his waist and leads me naked down the hall to his bedroom.
Master let me be in his bedroom. I am so very lucky.
He stands before me and points at the floor. “On your knees.”
Oh yes.I can make him happy now. I have been practicing holding my breath every day in case Master ever decided he wanted me again, and now I can hold my breath for several minutes. Making Master happy is more important than breathing.
I take him in my mouth, and he sinks in all the way, inch by inch.
I suck his cock eagerly, lovingly, glorying in his groans of pleasure. I drink every drop of his cum.
Then he has me lie down on my back on his soft, beautiful bed, and the silky comforter caresses my skin as he places his strong hands on my thighs and spreads them open. He goes down on me, teasing me the way he used to. Tongue swirling, thrusting inside me. The tidal wave of arousal gathers and rises higher and higher. He notes my tortured pants and the quivering of my thighs, and pulls away just in time.
And I give him another piece of my soul.
I look at him, my chest heaving in desire, and I beg. “Please, Master. Please fuck me.”
He smiles at me gently, running his finger down the wet seam of my pussy. Maddeningly light.Do it harder. “Do you really want me to fuck you, Toy?”
“Yes, Master, oh, please. Oh God. Please fuck me.”
His eyes spark with cruelty and malice. “Do you deserve it, Toy?”
My heart drops, and my mouth droops in sorrow. “No, Master.”
“No, you don’t. You made me sick with how dirty you were this morning. When I think about that, I don’t want to fuck you. I want to puke.”
And he gets up and walks away, breaking my heart as I swallow my sobs, because I tried to do what Master wanted, and somehow I failed.
But today he puts the good collar on me, the skinny collar. I am so grateful to Master for putting the skinny collar on me. He gives me soft, beautiful pants and a shirt and bra to wear. He puts the long chain on my ankles.
He takes me to the dining room and lets me eat a real breakfast with him.
After breakfast, there are tears of gratitude in my eyes when I bow my head respectfully and say, “Thank you, Master.”
His eyes snap with fury. “Did I say that you could speak, Toy?”
I freeze in my seat, the fork falling from my trembling fingers. I’m horrified. I’m so stupid. Will he put me back in the cell?
He used to let me thank him. I don’t even have that anymore. My escape attempt has thrust me to a new, lower level of Hell. Down in the depths of the cell, I dreamed that someday it would be like it was before—I could thank him, I could fall to the floor and kiss his feet, I could be the eager, grateful slave and he would appreciate it. He would tell me how much he loved it when I obeyed.
Now that will never happen.
I’m shaking all over. I hug myself to try to make myself stop.
I can’t make him angry.
“No, Master,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I spoke without permission, Master.”
I glance up at him, desperate for just a glimpse of the kindness he showed me after he punished me in the past. There is none. His eyes are blinding glacial ice, burning me with their hatred and scorn. “You’re a stupid cow, aren’t you, Toy?”
For some reason, that really hurts. It’s a bleeding cut right across my soul. He’s never called me names before. He used to call me beautiful and strong and worthwhile. Then I ruined it all because I’m an idiot. “Yes, Master, I’m a stupid cow.” Tears leak from my eyes and stream down my face. If he says it, it must be true, but I tried so hard to please him.
“Pants around your ankles. Bend over the table, right now.”
