Antonio’s gaze flicks to me, his burnt lips curling in a slow, knowing smile.
I flinch. I don’t even mean to but I feel caught, trapped. Will I be punished for looking him in the face? Will I be punished for witnessing this?
The woman holding my leash tugs the chain just enough to ensure I obey. I’m all but forced to crawl to him, the silk shift they’ve dressed me in whispering against my skin like a lover’s touch. The other women watch me, their eyes sharp, calculating. Anya’s lips curl in a smirk. Julie tilts her head, curious as Felice’s fingers tighten on Antonio’s thigh.
He holds out a hand, taking my arm before I can even consider acting on the voice screaming in my head to run.
I’m pulled into his lap, turned around so my back is pressed against his chest while his arms cage me in. He’s so much larger than me, his presence is overwhelming. His breath ghosts over my ear, hot and deliberate.
“How is my new dog doing?”
The words slither into me, curling low in my belly. My throat is too dry to answer, and my pulse hammers so violently I’m certain he can feel it where his palm rests against my ribs.
“You’re frightened.” He says, like he isn’t the cause of it. His fingers trail the leather of my collar, brushing the sensitive skin where it’s already rubbed raw and despite myself, I shiver. “That’s understandable but there’s no reason to be, not with me.”
I don’t reply. I don’t do anything but become a dead weight in his lap.
“If you’re good,” he murmurs, ”you can get a prettier collar. A jewelled one, like the others.”
Fuck that.I’d rather choke.
Does he see it in my face, does he see my thoughts, even if I’ve lost the courage to speak them? To the side I see the man step forward, that prod poised in his hand, but Antonio waves him aside.
“Stop fighting me.” He murmurs before his mangled lip grazes the shell of my ear.
His touch is a drug. I should recoil. I should hate it.
No, I do hate it. I do.
It’s just I haven’t been touched, haven’t been held, haven’t had any kindness since… I don’t know how long. I don’t know when someone last even hugged me. No, no I do know. It was so long ago; it was that night in the safe house, before the Blakes arrived, before one of them stole my father and the others kidnapped me and my mother. They’d hugged me, my parents had, they’d hugged me goodnight and told me that they loved me and… I shudder, swallowing, burying the memory that feels more precious than gold.
Antonio’s hand slides up my ribs, his thumb brushing close to the underside of my breast but deliberately not close enough. I stiffen and my breath hitches, waiting for him to cross that line.
In front of us, Anya and Julie are still touching, still kissing, still fucking. It feels like some sort of orgy. The sound of their moans, the sound of their skin as they press against each other…
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Antonio murmurs in my ear. “My other pets are well trained.”
“It’s, it’s a sin.” I croak. My broken voice comes out barely above a whisper with all the damage to my vocal chords.
He chuckles as if he can’t hear it, moving my hair aside, brushing his nose against my neck. “It would be a greater sin not to enjoy the gifts God has granted me.”
“People are not gifts.” I gasp.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Dumpling.”
Dumpling? Is that my name now? He chuckles, and I realise with horror that I’ve said that question out loud.
“You are a dumpling.” He replies. “These thick thighs, these curves…you’re my Dumpling.”
I hate it, I hate that he says it with such affection, that he’s doing this to me while acting like he has some semblance of considerate feeling towards me.
His fingers move lower, skimming over my stomach, down to my hip.
Slowly, horrifically he shifts my dress, dragging it aside and the cool air hits my exposed flesh, making me flinch. I wasn’t given underwear, wasn’t given anything but this dress that he’s so easily dealt with. His fingertip traces the edge of my clit piercing, and that sensation, that feeling… I suck in a sharp breath, my thighs tensing.
“Stop,” I whisper even though I know such a word will absolutely result in a punishment. I’m not permitted to use such words. I’m not permitted to even think such words. “Please.”
“No.” He flicks the piercing, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through me. My hips buck and he laughs, low and cruel.
