“Lift the gown, princess,” I murmur.
Her throat works up and down. “I… I’m not wearing that,” she mumbles, her face red. “I… Vaughn, I can’t.”
She means thescandalouslyflimsy, transparent black lace thong panties, tied with bows at the hips, that I left out for her along with the gown.
“Show me.”
She turns bright red, but she still gathers the clouds of pink tulle in her hands and lifts the hem up to her waist.
She’s wearing regular, plain black panties.
“Follow me.”
She hesitates, but then follows me back into the bedroom. The panties sheshouldbe wearing are still on the edge of the bed,next to the other little item I’m completely unsurprised she’s also ignoring.
Evelina gasps as I drop to my knees in front of her, her face throbbing. “Vaughn…”
Without a word I reach under her gown, hook my fingers into her panties, and slide them down and off her legs.
“I noticed you also aren’t wearing the other present I bought for you.”
Evelina’s face darkens.
“Vaughn, I’m not wearing adildoin my pussy to a freaking black tie ball.”
I smile. “It’s not a dildo. And it's not for your pussy.”
I stand and pluck the little gold plug with the pink gem in the flared base from the bed before turning back to her.
“I don’t under?—”
“It’s a plug, I say. “And it’s going in your ass.”
Her eyes bulge.
“I—Vaughn!” she squeals, her face turning the color of strawberries. “I amnotwearing that!”
“An oversight we’re going to rectify right now.”
She gasps as I wrap my fingers around her throat, my eyes glinting.
“Bend over.”
Her breath catches. “Vaughn?—”
“It’s either this,” I murmur, “or it’ll be my fat cock stretching that tight, slutty little hole out before we head out to the ball. Your choice.”
“Jesus,” she chokes as she stares up into my face.
But I don't see shock or fear in her eyes.
It’s somethingfarmore dangerous and alluring: the part of her thatwants todefy me so I make good on those threats.
It’s the masochist in her. The eager cum slut. The submissive fuck toy.
The side of her that struggles not to whimper when I threaten to spank her ass until she can’t sit for a week, or tell her I’m going to come on her face and leave it there throughout our dinner out if she doesn’t come on my fingers in the car outside the restaurant right the fuck now.
There’s a part of her thatwants meto do those things. To have that power over her. Because just as having that control getsmeoff,giving upthat control is what makes her come apart at the seams.
