She could feel her teeth clenching tighter and tighter together. God He was infuriating! Those piercing eyes. That hint of a grin playing at the corner of His lips. She knew her mood was entertaining Him. She could feel it. She could always feel Him, even when she wanted to swat Him and storm out with a dramatic door slam. She wondered for a moment what would happen if she did just that. It was a fleeting thought, in reality she was incapable of such an act of complete defiance. Refusing to meet His gaze she fixes her eyes on the floor.
*Please let me leave the room, please let me leave the room* the silent voice screams inside her mind. She wonders if He can see the tension in her jaw and she wills herself to stop digging her nails into her palms as His feet approach her. He was wearing those jeans she had bought Him for His birthday the ones He enjoyed having her wrestle open with her teeth and dammit she could tell He was hard. That familiar bulge pressing against the fabric. She knew He was letting her see it. He liked her to know she aroused Him even when she was verging on the shrill harpy she had just unleashed 5 minutes earlier.
His nonchalant attitude was making her want to scream. It was taking every ounce of willpower to remain in position. His final words had been a growling..
"Don't Move!"
They still echoed in her mind. She had instinctively frozen to the spot, nostrils flaring and heart pounding and it was that exact same spot she now stood, head lowered, breath fast, body coiled like a spring. He had left her there a full 5 minutes with nothing but her breathing and her rage filling the room.
His hand reached up toward her. For a moment she imagined He was about to lift her chin and stare into her soul but at the final moment His fingers angled and clasped possessively around her nipple, thumb and forefinger squeezing tightly thru the fabric of her shirt. She bit her lip determined to release no sound even tho she knew in the dark recesses of her mind the outcome was inevitable.
It was always inevitable but for some reason she still occasionally had to try. He knew this. He had been so patient with her over their years together, deliberately showing her each and every time that her surrender to Him was complete not something that she could choose to withhold when it suited her. The training had been effective, she hadn't unleashed her temper on Him like this for at least 6 months. It wasn't even the temper that bothered Him as she had slowly come to comprehend. On the contrary He has always appreciated her fiery spirit and encouraged her to speak up. In these cases, It was the mistaken assumption that somehow in the middle of all her frustration and anger she imagined she was somehow excused from her role as His obedient slut. The memory of the last lesson He has unleashed on her to remind her of this role still lingered strongly her mind and it was not something she would quickly forget.
His fingers were continuing to pinch her nipple mercilessly. Within the myriad of emotions that fired into her brain as His fingers tightened around her now achingly hard nipple, one was to wonder if it pleased Him to have to re-educate His girl occasionally with these basic yet effective lessons. The pressure on her nipple was becoming unbearable, an involuntary squeak of pain spilled from her lips and at that moment He released her.
"Strip"
It was almost offhand the way He said it. She seethed as He turned away seemingly uninterested in watching preferring to aimlessly browse at the large bookshelf. That huge bookshelf with the shelves at the perfect height for her to cling to as He fucked her, as He had done so many times.. with her face pressed into that awful set of *the complete works of Dickens* His sister had given Him. She knew it made Him grin when she visited and plucked one from the shelf to browse at in her irritating academic way, as if she was personally and profoundly familiar with every Dickens novel. She was sure that was why they had been placed at that height in the first place.
Everything He did was so deliberate. It was as if He reached inside her mind to push and control every single little button, every secret desire. She peeled off her tee shirt and wriggled out of her jeans throwing them into an untidy ball in the corner of the room. Her panties and bra she carefully aimed that hideous lamp He had insisted on keeping. God she despised that lamp! Hurling them with all her might she watched as the lamp precariously teetered on the edge of the desk before resettling with her panties stunningly back lit on the ugly glass shade like some kind of kinky modern art piece. She wasn't sure whether to curse at that moment or breath a sigh of relief it was still intact. She stood still facing Him, her collar the only thing adoring her bare body. Her nipple throbbed and she was painfully aware how hard it was. She was also aware of the slick heat between her thighs which only served to make her feel like her body was some kind of traitorous slut.
Her breathing was slower now and she lifted her eyes to bore into His back. Why didn't He turn around? She could see him reaching for a box on the shelf. He opened it, removed something and turned to face her. His eyes glancing at the lamp with a grin. He knows his focus on the welfare of the lamp as opposed to her naked revealed body will inflame her further. She immediately lowers her eyes again curling her toes into the carpet and hisses silently thru pursed lips. He slowly extends His hand palm closed. He knows it is her nature to be a curious creature and He waits patiently for her gaze to rest on His closed fist.
"nymph"
Her answer is instinctive and spills from her lips before she can think otherwise.
"yes Master?"
"you have behaved like a lil bitch tonight isn't that right?"
She sucks in a breath thru her teeth, willing the words from within.
"Yes Master"
"Yes Master what?" He looks at her.
"Yes Master Your nymph has behaved like a lil bitch." Her eyes firmly on the floor.