Tightening my grip, I stroke him again, and when more pre-cum appears, I press a tentative kiss to the tip, my tongue darting out to lick it off.
“Fuck,” the trainer groans. “You’re a natural.” Relief spreads through me in a rush of warmth. I’m making him feel good. Perhaps I won’t be as bad at this as I feared.
Stroking my hair, the trainer takes a deep breath. “You’re doing great, Doll. Now, for that lecture…”
Chapter 15
Mikhail
Doll squirms on my lap as I press the plug against her asshole. It’s the fourth one and not small by any means. She’s still too tight for rough anal without risking injury, but we’ve got a week to get her ready. We’ve alternated between oral and anal training for hours, and she’s fading fast. My cock, however, perks up as she squirms on it. Even though I tried to pace myself, Doll has already made me come four times, and my cock is raw from the constant sucking and licking. I know. What horrors must I endure!
Her mouth is literal heaven. She may be inexperienced, but she’s quick to learn—eager, too—absorbing every instruction I give her. I don’t even need a week to train her. She could beready tomorrow but I’ll keep that to myself. The more time I get to spend with her, the better. A week is already short as it is.
My cock hardens when she whimpers. My cock hardens at her whimpers. Those small, broken sounds are something I could listen to forever. I can’t, but it’s a pleasant fantasy.
“Relax, Doll,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time today. Doll is not the only one growing tired. I might not need much sleep, but I do need some. With the more defiant Dolls, I used to hook them up to electrodes and nap while they reconsidered their choices. But there’s no need for that with this one, and I won’t torture her just for the sake of torturing her. I love seeing her in pain, but not the meaningless, brutal kind. I might just let her sleep for a bit more as a reward for her excellent behavior.
It’s a shame I can’t bring her to my bed, but that would cross every line I’ve set for myself. If I ever had her in my bed, I’d never be able to give her up, and challenging the Morozovs for her would only earn me a bullet. Doll and I each have our own path, and neither of us can stray from it.
Another whimper. Doll’s hands clutch the couch upholstering, but she bears down like I taught her, and the plug slips in. “Good job, little Doll, very good job,” I praise, instantly rewarded by her relaxing. “You’re doing great.”
“T-thank you, Master.” Exhaustion drips from her voice but the words are genuine. I keep wondering who this woman was before she became a Doll and what she went through that a few simple words are met with such immense gratitude, but such a train of thought is a surefire track to damnation.
Dolls are Dolls. They’re not people. Who they were before doesn’t matter. Their past, their jobs, families, even their names—none of it matters. Those things stop existing once they come to my basement. From then on, they’re just Dolls. Nothing less,nothing more. Yet, I can’t fucking stop thinking about this one. What was her nam—
No. I need to stop this.
She cries out when I yank the plug out, my self-directed anger at myself making me rougher than I intended. That same anger drives me to shove the plug back into her stretched asshole. She cries and whimpers as I fuck her with the toy but keeps herself nicely relaxed for me, and I hate her for it.
Why does she have to be so damned obedient? I wish she’d fight back, yell, argue, anything to make her seem less perfect, to drag me back into the familiar rhythm of breaking Dolls. This Doll’s easy submission stirs feelings within me that are too dangerous to consider.
When my mother broke my dolls, I crushed her skull with a hammer. What will I do when the Morozovs take this Doll away from me?
Doll’s whimpers fade as her body adjusts to the plug. When she stops struggling, I leave the plug in and pat her beautifully marked ass. “Good job.” Fuck, I should at least stop praising her because her smiles are devastating. It’s only been a day and I’m already addicted to her beyond reason.
After a few more smacks, I guide her back onto her knees. She gives me a tired smile and reaches for my cock, but this time, I stop her. “Scoot back a little,” I say, smirking as her bruised ass and the plug’s unfamiliar pressure make her wince. She’s so adorable.
I stand, adjusting her until her mouth lines up with my cock, already achingly hard again. Kneeling like that can’t be comfortable, but that’s part of the training. Her eyes flick between my cock and my face, unsure which to focus on.
“You’ll keep your mouth open, your jaw relaxed and your tongue stuck out for me. This time, there will be no sucking or licking, just a hole for your Master to fuck. Focus on breathingand not throwing up.” Her gag reflex is too strong for my liking, and a week isn’t enough to train her to deepthroat properly. She’ll just have to learn to deal with it. “You may brace yourself against me,” I add as I wrap her now very messy braid around my fist.
She hesitates, then rests her hands on my thighs, and I almost come without her even touching my cock. Fuck. Is she a witch? A demoness? How can she get to me like this?
Without hesitation, I push her head down onto my cock and groan as her mouth closes around me. Doll’s throat convulses as she gags, squeezing me so hard I see stars. Pulling back to let her suck in a breath, I go right back in, as deep as the length of my cock allows.
Fueled by anger, uncertainty, and the slew of dangerous, possessive emotions, I fuck Doll’s mouth with abandon, using her like the toy she is. She gags and gasps, tears streaming down her face, her fingers digging into my thighs, but she never tries to pull away or fight back. My cock slides over her tongue, pressing into the tightness of her throat as she coughs and whimpers. The wet sounds we’re making are obscene, but it’s her eyes that undo me. That deep, rich brown gaze fixed on me like I’m the most important thing in the world. The only thing in the world.
“FUCK!” With a deafening cry, I come down Doll’s throat. She gags a little but manages to swallow everything, coughing and heaving deep breaths when I finally release her and she collapses on the floor. The urge to gather her up is overwhelming, but I grit my teeth and I force myself to remain professional. “Not bad. We’ll need to work on that gag reflex, though. Our high-quality toys can’t be at risk of vomiting all over our clients.”
“Y-yes, Master,” Doll whispers hoarsely. Facefucking does that to a person.
Professional. Stay professional. She isn’t mine. I repeat it to myself as I walk away. “Kneel in the kitchen in the same spot as yesterday. Leave the plug in.”
Chapter 16
Grace
Wincing, I shift on my knees, searching for a position that eases the pressure on my sore thighs and ass and makes the plug hurt less. Such a position doesn’t exist. The trainer knows it, which is why he made me kneel here while he flits about the kitchen. Whatever he’s cooking smells amazing even to my uneasy stomach. It’s not even the amount of cum I’ve swallowed in the past few hours that’s bothering me, but the way the trainer’s cock kept hitting the back of my throat and the nausea that came with it.
