Page 84 of Damsel in Disguise

Next, I undo the leash, holding her steady with a firm grip on her throat.

“Give me the hand you touched yourself with.”

There’s a pause, then I feel her hand move hesitantly, suddenly unsure if she’s allowed or not.

I grab it before she can second-guess herself.

My tongue slides over her fingers, tasting her, savoring the faint sweetness clinging to her skin. I suck lightly, moaning under my breath at the taste of her.

Fuck. She’s delicious.

Self-note: to taste her directly from the source.

Not tonight, though.

“If you don’t want me to rip your pretty little mask off, then take that window and leave on my count to ten,” I say, dropping her hand.

“One… Two…” I start counting aloud.

She fumbles with the mask and her bodysuit, hands rushing now, panic bleeding into the movements.

“Three… Four… Five…”

Ariella stumbles toward the window, her legs still unsteady, barely holding her up.

“Six… Seven… Eight…”

The window slides open, letting cold night air rush in.

“Nine… and—”

She’s gone before I can finish. The silhouette disappears into the darkness beyond, swallowed by the woods like she was never here at all.

“Ten,” I conclude softly.

A chuckle slips out of me as I calmly stride toward the window, not caring that I’m still undressed with an erect cock.

I lean slightly, watching the last trace of her turning into the phantom of the night.

28. CONFRONTATION

ariella

Professor Hertley pauses the moment his eyes land on me—right where I always sit. The hesitation is brief, almost imperceptible, but I catch it.

I doubt he expected me to show up today. Not after the way he pushed me last time, cornered me in front of an entire room full of students.

I meet his gaze without flinching, ignoring the memory lodged beneath my skin of him taking total control of my body just last night—of the way he handled me, used me, reduced me to nothing but his pet.

The thought lingers heavily in my mind, blurring the edges of the present. I can’t decide what I should feel—threatened, flattered, or maybe both?

Part of me wanted him to know it was me. Wanted him to rip that mask off and see me for exactly who I am. His student, Ariella Keinston.

My cheeks warm at the thought, heat creeping up my neck despite the sober exterior. If he found out… what would he do?

Would he destroy me?

Or pull me closer, tighten that invisible leash, and make me exactly as he already treats me in the dark—his good little kitty?