Her nails dug into her own palms, her fists so tight, down beside her legs. Her breath came in short bursts, ragged as hell but she couldn’t get on top of them.
“No orgasms for the little fucktoy this time,” Kenny said, his cock picking up speed. “We decide your pleasure. Not you.”
It went on long enough that her muscles began to shake again, the strain in her core matching the slow, steady claiming of her body. And when Kenny finally groaned low and spilled into her, Silas simply pulled his hand away, leaving her clit aching and her body humming with frustration.
She didn’t even know who put the plug back in her ass.
Kenny rolled her to her side, curled in behind her, and kissed the back of her neck. “Sleep.”
Her mind wanted to argue, but exhaustion swept through faster than the protest could form. Within minutes, she was limp between them, her last conscious thought was that tomorrow, she’d be just as sore and just as owned.
She’d never felt more claimed, more wanted. She wasexactlywhere she belonged.
Chapter 10
Some mornings, Kenny wakes before the alarm.
This wasn’t one of those mornings.
He lifted his phone, turned the alarm off, pulled the sheet off Willow, and popped her on the ass.
“Up you go. Get my shower started for me. I’ll be along shortly.”
His shower was digital, so she only had to tell it the right temperature.
He’d sent her the same instructions he’d given the past twenty or so submissives who’d washed him and blown him in the mornings. He’d refined the directions every time someone had a question, and none had been asked for a while.
He’d see how she did this first morning.
He took a piss and then noted her standing out of the spray, waiting in inspection pose.
It seemed she could follow instructions, but he hadn’t expected her to fuck it up. Willow was bright.
She’d absorbed the household structure fast, and that boded well. He’d test her limits more over the next few days — add complexity, introduce edge cases, see how she adapted under pressure.
She’d responded positively to Silas calling her some rough names. It wasn’t Kenny’s style, and yet, some of the terms had their appeal for a certain kind of scene.
She went into a perfect kneel up once he was in the water and motioned for her to, and she followed the instructions to the letter, licking his balls, working her way from the base to the top of his shaft before taking him into her mouth, all the way to the root, and waited for him to fuck her mouth.
Which he did, with vigor — until he came down her throat and emptied his motherfucking balls down the heat of her throat.
Cumdump.
Silas wasn’t wrong last night, and yet, it was different this morning. Her attention to detail. Her service.
No single nickname was going to work for her. Labels were tools, and she’d earn the names that fit. The ones that made her a better pet, slave, or whatever she ended up being, though he was leaning hard towardsfucktoyat the moment.
He paused and looked at her form, kneeling with her elbows grasped behind her back, her lips loose around his spent dick, looking up at him, awaiting the next step — not abandoning this one until he signaled it was time. He was impressed.
He’d give her precision tasks in the coming days, use compliance as a metric before deciding on specific training.
Though he already knew one specific behavioral protocol she’d be trained for. She’d sealed her fate during that first negotiation when she made orgasm denial a hard limit. What better way to make his point that he’s in control and she has none? And he already had the beginnings of a plan for how to train her to his form of orgasm denial. He’d go past teasing, right up to the edge, and then send her off on another task while aching with need — setting the table, or going for a three-milerun. Before Christmas arrived, she’d be going days at a time without being allowed release.
She waited for him to step back, and then stood and washed him exactly as she was supposed to, starting at his shoulders and working down, cleaning everything — the crack of his ass, his balls, between his toes — and finished by rinsing him with the proper settings on the handheld unit.
“Good girl.” He helped her stand, gave her a peck on the lips. “I’ll ask how you’re holding up at breakfast. You woke up with me, instead of before, so you didn’t have a chance to see to yourself. Go see to Boone next, then take a few minutes to brush your teeth and hair.”
He wasn’t going to punish her for not having her alarm set this first morning. She’d probably intended to do it later, not realizing there wouldn’t be an opportunity. If she didn’t get up early tomorrow; however, there’d be consequences.
