Repeating the process with the other arm, Doll’s upper body is now completely bare, laid before me like an offering. Sweat glistens on her skin, reminding me she needs more fluids. I already have a protein shake ready for her. Banana-flavored instead of my usual strawberry because apparently, this Doll is allergic to strawberries. At least, that’s what her file states. It doesn’t list her name, age, or background, just key medical details, like the allergy and the birth-control implant added after capture, and the buyer’s requirements. It’s all the usual stuff,except he seems to be very much into anal. I need to make that one of the primary focuses of Doll’s training, so that she can survive the sick fuck’s attention for as long as possible.
“Keep your hands by your sides,” I instruct her, curious whether she will obey or reach for her blindfold. Many Dolls try to take it off, as if not being able to see is worse than punishment for disobedience. I always prove them painfully wrong but I’d hate to do that with this one. She’s a sweet little thing, and I hate the thought of hurting her more than necessary, which is a new fucking feeling, one I don’t appreciate in the slightest.
She’s just a Doll. I’m not supposed to feel anything beyond the usual. She’s not special.
Chapter 6
Grace
Inever knew terror and relief could mix so strongly. My mind reels, thoughts racing in no order. The only thing I know for sure is that I have to obey every command the stranger touching me utters unless I want to suffer more. He might have removed the clamps from my nipples but both vibrators are still inside of me, ready to torment me with pleasure and pain. The few seconds of renewed electroshocks somehow felt worse than the long minutes—or maybe hours—of suffering before, perhaps because despite my determination to obey him, I broke the rules the first chance I got. It wasn’t intentional, just a reflex to avoid talking about anything sexual, but I guess it doesn’t matter. I failed, as I always do.
The man, who I’m guessing must be my trainer, doesn’t seem to hold a grudge, at least. He was angry at first, but once I corrected myself, he let it go. His touches and his voice, deep with a slight East European accent, grew gentle again. It was so unexpected it left me disoriented. My parents would always be mad at me for hours or days after I messed up. They’d snap at me, slap me, and generally let me know what a failure I was at every available opportunity. Forgive and forget isn’t something they practice, but a slave trainer does? What a complete mindwarp.
Reminding myself not to chew on my lip, I try to focus on my breathing and not the way the trainer’s hands and mouth feel on my body. He bit my nipple earlier, but not even the pain from that helped soothe the annoying need growing between my legs. What’s wrong with me? This reaction definitely isn’t normal.
He twists my aching nipples and chuckles when I gasp. “Do you like that, Doll?”
Refusal is on the tip of my tongue. Of course I don’t like it. Well, maybe a little. He squeezes my tender peaks harder, clearly impatient for an answer, and I already know he won’t accept a simple no. I don’t want to be shocked for lying again, so I swallow my embarrassment. “Yes, Master,” I whisper, heat flaring to my cheeks. “It hurts but it feels…good.” God, this is so humiliating.
“Good answer,” he says, to my surprise. “You’ve done well, little Doll.”
I did? A tiny spark of happiness blooms in my chest. I did good. I didn’t mess it up. “Thank you, Master,” I reply, my mouth curling up into a small smile. A quiet voice in the back of my mind tells me I shouldn’t be grateful for praise from someone who hurt me, but that voice is too quiet to gain any foothold in my mind. I’m so tired that thinking hurts, and I’m praised so rarely I want to just enjoy it.
A finger trails the shape of my mouth. “You’re a curious little thing,” he murmurs. He doesn’t seem to expect an answer, so I stay quiet, savoring the brief absence of pain.
Goosebumps pop up on my damp skin as he frees my legs. The room isn’t cold, but the sweat drying on my skin makes me want to beg for a blanket.
The trainer’s warm hands move down my thighs, gently massaging the stiff muscles, then travel to my calves. When he presses his fingers into the soles of my feet, I moan at how good it feels. According to the orientation, moaning and crying are allowed, encouraged even, so I’m not worried about punishment, just deeply embarrassed. There are hundreds of reasons I shouldn’t be acting like this. It’s just… It feels good, and after all the pain I went through, I have no energy to form socially appropriate reactions. Maybe later, once I’ve rested, I’ll regain control, but right now, it’s slipping away.
“Does it feel good?” the trainer asks, sounding amused.
I answer without hesitation. “Yes, Master. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, little Doll.” He puts my leg down so that my knee is slightly bent before positioning the other one the same way. Realizing this position puts my pussy on display, I try to pull my knees together, but he squeezes them tightly as if sending a silent message. Right. He can do whatever he wants with my body, and I’m supposed to let him. Knowing I have no choice doesn’t make it any less frightening. Gripping the layers of shrink wrap underneath me to give myself something to hold on to, I focus on slowing down my breathing. I can’t think about how he’s probably looking at my pussy right now. My pussy and my ass, both stuffed with those cursed toys.
Now that my legs are not wrapped in plastic, I can feel wires tickling my inner thigh. Electric wires leading to both vibrators. I didn’t know vibrators could give electric shocks but then, there’s a lot I don’t know. I don’t fight the trainer when he pushes myknees further apart, for once grateful for the blindfold because I’d probably die of mortification if I had to watch him examine the most private parts of my body.
I flinch when his fingers touch my clit, easily circling it through the copious amount of my juices. “Stay still,” he murmurs, not unkindly, but his grip on my inner thigh tightens.
“Oh.” I gasp when he touches the vibrator in my pussy, sliding it halfway out before pushing it back in. All of my nerve endings flare to life, still primed from the vibrations earlier. I whimper, doing my best not to squirm, but it’s a lost battle.
A sharp smack on my pussy has me yelping out. “I said, stay still.”
Damn it, I messed up again. “I’m sorry, Master.” Determined not to fail, I tense my muscles and focus on keeping still despite the urge to move. I’ve never been so aroused, but if Master tells me to stay still, I will stay still. Not just to avoid pain, but to earn more praise.
“That’s better,” he says. He keeps thrusting the vibrator into my pussy while rubbing circles around my clit, relentlessly pushing me to the edge without letting me fall over. I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose, to punish me for my misbehavior, and while I probably deserve to be punished, I also really want to come. A whimper escapes when he slides the vibrator out and doesn’t replace it. Will he fuck me now? I was terrified he’d rape me, but at this point, I’d almost welcome it if it meant I’d get to come.
Chuckling darkly, the trainer slides his fingers around my opening. “Want more, Doll?”
“Yes, please!”
“Well, if you continue being a good girl, I’ll think about it, but you haven’t earned that reward yet.”
Right. Orgasms are special rewards for perfect obedience. I can be obedient. The most obedient Doll in the world.
I only realize I’ve said that part out loud when he laughs again. “We’ll see,” he says ominously. When his fingers disappear from my pussy, my hips twitch but I manage to keep them still. Making a sound of approval in the back of his throat, the trainer touches me again, except this time, it’s lower.
Breath freezes in my lungs as he pushes the vibrator deeper into my ass. Oh god. He can’t touch me there. I can’t—
