She is to be my creation, my most cherished possession, and the process of her reshaping seems to consume my every waking thought.
I pamper her, I spoil her, I let this pet of mine grow fat and content with my attention.
She’s wary of course. She’s not stupid but I can see how my well-timed devotion is breaking down those walls, fucking up what is left of her sanity.
I hand feed her each meal. I allow her to go out in the gardens each day and spend a little time enjoying the last of the summer’s heat. Bit by bit my little Dumpling is becoming fatter, curvier, more fucking delicious. It takes all I have not to lean in and take a bite out of her soft peachy flesh as I give her a daily bath and massage.
She’s so fucking gorgeous now.
And yet I haven’t touched her, not sexually. I haven’t done anything but pamper her and let her heal. I know she’s curious as to why I’m giving her some space, but I want her to beg me again. I want her to drop to her knees before her Master and beg for his cock the way she did back in Portugal.
When I need to work she sits on the rug by my desk, her head bowed in silent submission. Her fingers absently trace the pattern of the Persian rug while she tries to reconcile the man who bought her with the man who now pampers her like she’s his most precious treasure.
And for days, I believe I am winning this. I believe that I am achieving my goal of putting her completely and utterly under my spell, and then she goes and ruins it.
“Master,” She says hesitantly.
“What is it, Dumpling?” I reply, looking up from the latest files my spies have sent me. The Esau have gone quiet, suspiciously quiet. I wonder if my little show in Black Orchid has made them change course.
She ducks her head in a way that tells me she’s spoken before she’s engaged her brain.
“Tell me, Pet. Speak.” I order.
I feel the way she physically gulps. “I, I don’t want to offend.” She whispers quietly.
“Your disobedience right now offends me.” I say back.
She turns, her hands digging into my trousers. “Please, Master. I am good, I will be good. I will be what you want, just don’t do that again, don’t take me to that place, don’t…”
She’s talking about the sex club. She’s talking about me letting all those men fuck her.
I tut, gripping her plump face and pulling her closer. “You forget yourself, Pet. You forget your place.”
“I don’t.” She replies quickly. “I want you, Master, only you. I don’t want those other men to use me, I don’t want… it’s a sin. Doing that is a sin.”
I let out a laugh at her naivety. I guess it can’t be helped. She was brought up with the intention that she believes such things. The Brethren are all about purity, about keeping our women in their place. So many girls struggle to adapt once they are married off and realise that those lies are just that; lies, manipulation, ways to ensure we Brethren Lords get a nice sweet virgin to marry and fuck, and not some used up slut on our wedding day.
“You don’t understand what the world is.” I state. “You’ve been deliberately sheltered by your parents, by the Brethren too. You think sex is a thing only married couples engage in…”
“I don’t.” She says, interrupting me, and that earns her a look of annoyance at her audacity.
“Sex is a thing for men.” I continue. “It is a gift God has granted men for our pleasure. Women are put on this earth for us to do as we like with. There is no good or bad, sin or no sin.”
“But…”
“But what?” I reply.
She draws in a deep breath. “What you did, the other night,” She pauses, swallowing again. “You let them use me, you tied me up and you let those men…”
“I let them fuck you, Pet.” I agree. “Want to know why?”
She nods, but her face shows her fear. My pet is afraid of the answer.
“Because your body is mine. I own you, I control you, and letting those men, letting any man do as they like with you is proof of my power over you.”
She cries out, stumbling back and for a second I see the old her. The defiant, determined girl I bought at auction and not the trembling wreck my careful training has turned her into.
“I, I don’t want that. I don’t…no. No. I’m not yours to use like that. I’m not…”
