She sat by the window with her book. I was surprised she could read, most slaves couldn't, but she enjoyed the classics that I more or less had just bought to decorate my shelves. She was reading a book I was forced to read in high school, but unlike myself, she looked quite intrigued with it. She was usually so observant, too, but now she didn't even notice I had opened her door and had been staring at her for minutes.
She was beautiful. I wondered how often she bathed, because she always smelled so sweet, like cherries and red wine. It must have been at least twice a day, maybe more to kill time. Her dark brown hair was always shining and down in soft waves. She had splashes of light brown freckles across her pale nose, cheeks, and shoulder blades. Her eyes sometimes turned grey, depending on the weather. But she was always so beautiful. Especially now, caught up in her little world, leaning against the coolness of the glass as it rained.
I wanted to take her outside, to one of the gardens outside the mansion. I wanted to pick flowers for her and be romantic. I wanted her to talk to me, out there, where it was beautiful.
But today wasn't her day. Today my cock was taking up too much of my attention, and I had so much pent up anger from work. My playroom wasn't getting enough use.
I coughed to get her attention.
She shut her book.
"Let's go." I said, sticking out my hand.
Like a good girl, she held onto it as I pulled her out of the room. From that alone, she could tell I wasn't joking around today.
I kissed her hard when we reached the door to my playroom, shoving her against without holding back any of my passion. I got frustrated when she didn't make a move, wearing that same scared expression.
"Juliet, kiss me, damn it!" I yelled.
She obeyed, but was a softer kisser than me, gently pushing her lips to mine. It was soothing. Probably not wanting to piss me off, when I fisted my hand in her hair, she mimicked me by lifting her arms around my neck, standing on her toes. As she did this, I pushed past her lips with my tongue and welcomed myself into her mouth. Her eyes snapped open and she stopped for a second before she pressed her tongue back to mine.
I felt my will weakening and my cock harden. I pulled away.
"From now on, if I kiss you, you kiss me back, okay?"
She nodded.
I smacked her ass, hard, causing her to jump. "Fucking say it."
"Yes master," She said quietly.
Her eyes widened when I lead her to the St. Andrew's cross. A whimper rose in her throat as I tightly restrained her ankles. She always hated this one the most, thinking of how exposed it made her. That's just because we haven't tried suspension yet. She gave me a pleading look, and although the sadist in me loved resisting those blue eyes of hers, I wanted to try something different. I took a blindfold off a tray and secured it around her head.
"Are you ready?" I asked her.
"Yes master."
"Good, not that you have a choice." I said lovingly. "I won't be more than an hour or two." I promised before I pecked her on the lips.
A pang of guilt hit me when I saw the delicateness of her collar bones, the innocence of the freckles on her shoulder.
"You can trust me." I told her before I could stop myself. "You don't have to, but I'm never going to lead you on or lie to you. If I say we'll do something, we'll do it, and if I say we won't, we won't. I'm never going to hurt you more than you can handle."
She started to nod before she stopped herself. "Yes, master."
I patted her inner thigh in appreciation. "Good girl."
Although I loved seeing the expression in her eyes, she looked older when she was blindfolded. The way her body tensed and rolled. The hardness of her nipples and the wetness of her cunt were obvious, and she was trying to restrain herself from whining as I knew the cold air was licking her in the most intimate places. When she sucked on her bottom lip, she didn't look nervous anymore. She looked like she was trying to seduce me. It was working.
I made my way behind her and kissed the crook of her neck, wrapping my arms around her, causing her to shudder a little. I casually stroked her pussy with one hand and played with her nipples with the other. She twisted her wrists in their binds and gasped.
"Someone took their pill this morning." I teased, knowing that talking is what made her blush. "How does it feel to know that even though you think you hate this, you're still so dripping wet for it." I dipped a finger in her hole, only up to the bottom of my fingernail. I knew this was killing her, but I didn't stop, pushing my finger farther inside her, excruciatingly slow.
"Does it make you feel like a slut, with your pussy always hot and your nipples always erect? What's it like? Being constantly aroused, but like you said last night, never being able to get yourself off?"
