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But I banish that thought from my head. I cannot criticize Master. If anything is wrong, it’s my fault, not his.
That night, he asks me if I want to sleep at the foot of his bed or in the cell. And I am so grateful. I beg and beg to sleep at the foot of his bed.
He’s looking at me with an expectant expression. I don’t know why at first, and then I think I have figured it out. This is the last thing that I swore I would never do. Master wants to know if I am devastated by breaking my final vow to myself. Of course I’m not.
I’m far too broken for that.
CHAPTERTWENTY
JOSHUA
Toy behaves perfectly for me.
I chain her to the foot of my bed every night. She submits, instantly, to every command. I make her answer to the name Toy and acknowledge me as her master, many times a day. I exercise her on the treadmill, and several times she falls off into my arms, nearly fainting, rather than ask to stop. She watches me fearfully, desperate to please me.
When I say cruel things to her, she cries and cries and begs me to forgive her.
She is completely passive except when I fuck her. Then she writhes underneath me and cries out in pleasure, and I feel her pussy spasming on my cock, and it makes me come so hard I think I’ve died and gone to Heaven. Not that I’ll ever know what Heaven feels like, if there is such a place.
And yet something’s lacking.
I find myself being harder and harder on her. When I take her to the playroom, I whip the shit out of her. I put clamps on her nipples and pussy and make her crawl across the floor to me, and she wails in pain the whole way and then kneels at my feet, quivering, waiting for me to release her from the cruel clamps but not daring to ask. I make her wait a very long time. Often I sit there and read a book, propping my feet up on her back while her tears drip on the floor.
She’s a perfect little Toy. She’d suffer agonies rather than disappoint me. And I make sure she does.
After a couple of weeks, to reward her for her good behavior, I order a dozen couture gowns in her size. It takes a week for them to arrive from Paris. I have them delivered to a town two hours away and send Elizabeth to pick them up, because I don’t want to leave the house if I don’t have to. Elizabeth has severe agoraphobia, but she suffers through it to go out and pick up our supplies a couple of times a month. Food, clothing, household goods. It’s necessary. I don’t like to be seen anywhere in this area, to preserve my anonymity.
I hang the dresses on a rack and slide it into the center of my bedroom and bring Toy in to look at them.
“These are for you,” I tell her, waiting for the gush of gratitude and excitement that should accompany such a generous gift.
She barely glances up at them.
“Thank you, Master,” she whispers, standing with her hands hanging at her sides, gaze trained on the floor.
Shock and anger blast through me. These are beautiful hand-stitched creations. Models wear them on the cover of Vogue. Twenty grand or more each. She’s dismissing a few hundred thousand dollars’ worth of dresses with a flick of her eyes.
“You don’t like them?” My voice is harsh.
Instantly, her eyes are like saucers, and she flinches in abject terror. I feel that burn of arousal that reminds me, yet again, that I am a truly sick and terrible individual. My cock stirs in my pants.
“Yes, Master, I’m sorry, Master,” she whimpers. “I love them, Master. Thank you, Master.”
“Which one do you like best, Toy?” I snarl.
She hurries over to the rack, her eyes wide with fright. She begins carefully looking through them.
She picks one out, her hands shaking. “This one, Master. Thank you, Master. It’s beautiful, Master.” It’s black with a lacy fringe on it.
“Why, Toy?” I ask, with a nasty bite to my tone. “Why do you like that one best?”
“They’re all beautiful, Master.” She’s sobbing now, terrified of what I might do to her. “But this one looks like a flapper dress from the 1920s. I’ve always loved the style from that era.”
“You’ll wear it for dinner tonight.”
“Yes, Master! Thank you, Master.” She’s staring at the ground, gulping, trying not to make too much noise when she cries.
The sight makes my cock harden. I tell her to get on her knees.
