by Kitty Thomas
She did as he asked, moving with her fingers. “Good, now roll over and spread your legs for the camera. Stretch your arms out over your head. No touching. And look into the lens. Make eye contact with the person on the other side.”
When she'd done what he asked, he repositioned the camera and zoomed in to a particularly well-lit spot on the bed. She was still clearly visible in the shot, but now there was room for what he planned next.
He crossed to the large toy box in the far corner of the room and took out something that was a cross between a sex toy and a small piece of sex furniture. It was a black piece meant to be straddled, with an attachment that fit right up against a girl's pussy. They used a new one for each girl and sterilized the furniture after. Never let it be said that they ran an unclean operation.
It also came with a small remote that allowed him to control the intensity of the pulses and control the strength and depth of her orgasm.
He put the furniture/toy on the ground next to the bed in clear view of the camera then sat on the edge of the bed in front of it, unbuttoning his pants.
“Get off the bed and crawl to me,” he said.
Shannon got off the bed and obeyed him. When she reached him she looked at the toy and then at him, a question in her eyes.
“Straddle it,” he said. “Straddle it so it's pressed against your opening and your clit, so I can reach everything.”
There was another whimper from her as she lowered herself onto the toy. Her back was to the camera.
“Now,” Lindsay said, getting to the highlight of his own evening. “Please me, and I will let you come.”
He didn't have to be more explicit than that. She was a smart girl. She knew what he wanted. He wanted her hot wet mouth wrapped around his cock taking him all the way down her throat, letting him fuck her mouth until he came.
Shannon did not disappoint. She finished unbuttoning his pants and pulled his cock free. She stroked his hard length for a few seconds then leaned forward and ran her tongue over the tip. She moaned as she tasted him.
He knew how desperately horny she was from such a long day without release. She took him into her mouth and gently sucked. He was patient for a while and let her take her time. Whenever she licked or suckled him in just the right way, he turned the toy on, allowing it to pulse against her dripping pussy.
The more she pleased him, the more he gave her, until he grew tired of her teasing. He turned the toy to the lowest setting.
“Please, Master. Please. I have to come.”
“Then stop fucking around and take me down your throat like you mean it.”
She swallowed his cock then, taking him deep. His free hand wrapped around her hair, holding her in place as he thrust into her. When he neared his own release, he turned the toy to the highest setting.
Shannon bucked against it, screaming out her release as he came down her throat.
He stroked her hair and pulled out of her. But he held her down by her shoulders, pressing her harder against the toy, not letting her go until she had a second and then a third orgasm. He didn't allow her to stop until she begged him.
The blade scratched against the stone wall. “You were a very bad girl,” Brian growled. Shannon cringed, and found herself begging him not to hurt her, but the excited malice in his eyes told her it was pointless.
“You embarrassed me.”
She struggled in the ropes trying to free herself. Annette shrieked outside the door for him to stop and let Shannon go. But they were locked in. They were always locked in. And he held the only key.
“Please, please please...” she chanted. “Please don't. I'm sorry, please.”
“Too late for sorry,” he growled against her ear. His voice reverberated against the side of her face.
And then there was blood. And burning pain. The bullwhip cracked the air and sliced through her skin as easily as the knife. He made tiny, shallow cuts so he could go longer before it killed her. Because she somehow knew he was going to kill her.
“Please!” she screamed again, as if there was any part of him that was actually human.
He only laughed at her suffering.
Shannon kicked out and suddenly her foot landed against something. She jolted awake, wild-eyed, scrambling to get out of the bed away from the arms that held her down. But he was too strong.
“Shhhh, kitten. Shhhh.”
She let out a breath when she realized who she was with. She collapsed against him and sobbed.
Lindsay petted her hair. “It's over now,” he whispered.
But would it ever be over? She hadn't told Lindsay about the look Brian had given her in the cafeteria the previous morning. She could carefully avoid him, stay out of his path. She never ever did anything to disrespect him, and for so long her quiet unobtrusive deference had kept him from turning the monster inside him on her again.
But Brian had noticed her.
She was sure that was what triggered the dream. She'd been so certain she would be safe now that she belonged to Lindsay. After all Annette and Julie were safe from Brian. But Brian and Lindsay had history. She remembered them fighting a lot when Mina had first come to the house. Did he want payback?
Lindsay still petted her hair. “The same dream?” he asked unnecessarily.
“Yes, Master.”
“Did I do something last night to...”
“No. I-I liked everything we did in the playroom last night.” Well except the camera, but that was about the scars. She was sure she'd never feel comfortable being exposed like that.
“Are you sure?” he asked, real concern in his eyes.
She wasn't entirely sure what all that in the playroom with the filming had been about. She wasn't sure Lindsay knew either. Some experimental therapy? But however fucked up it had been, she'd gotten off on it, and for whatever reason he'd felt the need to film her like that, she hadn't felt malice in the act.
“Shannon? How can you be sure last night didn't trigger the nightmare?” He was genuinely concerned, and for a moment she worried he'd hold back with her, start treating her like broken glass... like he had after that day. Please don't treat me like I'm broken, she silently begged.
“I just am.” She couldn't tell him the truth. What if he confronted Brian and just made everything worse? She couldn't tell Mina because she was sure that would stir things up, too. Mina would try to protect her, try to reason with Brian, but it might just make him more angry and determined. She knew from experience that was the last thing she needed.
65
Weeks passed, and the threat of Brian receded into the background. He seemed to have lost interest in Shannon, and she'd become too wrapped up in life with the doctor to keep thinking about the threat. Despite her fears, Lindsay didn't start treating her like she was too fragile to handle him. And as a result, she'd started to feel a little less fragile in his care.
She laid snuggled under the covers in the plant room watching him as he took care of the birds and tended to the plants, already dressed for work. She liked to watch his morning ritual when he thought she was still asleep. She couldn't believe they'd been together like this for weeks now. Even more impossible to believe was the idea that she'd actually thought she hated this man.
Her feelings now had moved so far in the opposite direction from hate that it scared her sometimes to think just how hard she was falling, how much she wanted to give him anything and everything. His control had taken her by surprise, his darkness. She hadn't believed he had it in him. She'd thought him weak, simpering. Now it seemed impossible she'd ever seen the doctor that way.
She was almost constantly wet from his demands, his harsh cutting orders that wrapped around her like safety and security.
“Oh, good. You're awake,” Lindsay said intruding on her thoughts.
She yawned. “What time is it?”
“6:30.”
Way too early. She flopped back on the bed and pulled the covers over her head.
“You have to ge
t up. We have a long drive.”
“Wait, we?”
“Oh, yes. I fired my secretary and told her she could finish out the week last week. It's Monday. You're my new secretary. Congratulations on this promotion.”
And then there was this side of him. This strangely funny playful side that she'd never suspected could exist underneath all that clinical seriousness.
“From fuck toy to secretary. Doesn't it normally go in the other direction?”
“You watch too many movies.”
It was so weird that they'd developed this... banter. Shannon sat up fully in bed, trying to process this new information. “But... I don't have clothes...” She couldn't exactly wear a bikini or workout clothes to a psychiatrist's office.
Though at the moment the biggest and most exciting thought was, I'm going into the city. I get to leave the house. It had been a long eight years of cabin fever.
“I got you some things the afternoon I fired her, the bags are on the floor beside the bed.”
Shannon moved as little as possible out from under the fluffy blankets and peered over the edge to find several large bags from stores she didn't recognize but which were obviously very high end.
“Well, I mean... what did you say... was she upset?” Shannon asked as she lugged the bags up onto the bed and started to unwrap everything.
“I told her I was cutting back my hours and no longer required full time assistance, and I knew she needed full time. I gave her a generous severance package and an excellent reference.”
“Excellent reference!” Ralph screeched from his cage as if to confirm this fact.
Lindsay opened the cage to let the bird out. The African Gray landed on the bedside table and stared up at Shannon and said again, “Excellent reference”. Then he flew off into the tropical plants.
Shannon wasn't sure how he'd done it, but somehow Lindsay had trained the bird to only poop in his cage. As a reward, Ralph got a lot of outside-the-cage time. She was convinced that bird understood about seventy percent of what he repeated. He seemed far too shrewd to her.
“Are you cutting back on your hours?” she asked.
“I'll be working Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I already cut back on my workload and sent some of my patients to colleagues. Those that aren't candidates for the house.”
“Okay but what about the spa here? I'm supposed to do a lot of that stuff, like especially waxing. And we have a lot of girls here.”
“I talked to Anton about that. He's making other arrangements. It's not that difficult to teach someone how to wax.”
She might have worked up some offense at that but she was distracted by her work clothes. “Um... this is a little sexy for the office isn't it?”
She looked up to find Lindsay had stopped fussing with the plants and now stood over her, smirking. “I think it's the exact right amount of sexy.”
Within the bags she'd found several short skirts—definitely not professional length. Additionally she found loose-fitting, low cut blouses that were a bit too sheer—sheer enough to see the black lacy bras he'd bought for her to wear underneath.
There were several pairs of black heels, garter belts, and black stockings with seams up the back.
“I want those seams always perfectly straight. If they are not, there will be consequences. You represent the office after all,” he said, his eyes glittering with amusement.
And what kind of message was he trying to send with such representation?
“Y-yes, Master.” It wasn't even seven in the morning, and she was already a fluttery hot mess. “Wait, there aren't any panties.” She had panties, but they weren't the seamless kind she'd need for skirts like that.
“Observant girl. This is why I'm hiring you. You're so good with details. Get a shower and get dressed. I'll bring up our breakfast.”
Shannon found herself disappointed he hadn't touched her this morning and tried not to think too much about what that said about her. She rushed through a shower and put on makeup and fixed her hair. Then she selected a red skirt and white top. She may as well go with the sluttiest version of this outfit before she lost her nerve. She was grateful at least that none of her scars were visible. She didn't want to go into the city for the first time looking like a mangled freak.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Lindsay was already on the balcony with their breakfast. Sausage, eggs, buttery croissants, fruit, and coffee.
He looked up from his paper and nodded approvingly. “You were born to wear that for me.”
Shannon felt herself flush from the heated way he looked at her. She sat down as he poured her coffee, dropping a sugar cube into it and a dollop of cream.
“We get a paper?” It seemed a bit risky to send a paperboy all the way out here to the big mysterious white mansion in the middle of nowhere. She'd always thought the guys kept a low profile.
“I get a paper at the office, but I only have time to read it at breakfast the next day.”
“So it's not really news anymore, is it?”
“It's a morning ritual. Eat your breakfast.”
The drive into the city was long. As much as she was thrilled by getting out of the house and going somewhere, she was glad they'd only be making this trip three times a week. Shannon absently ran her fingertips over her bare wrist. He'd taken the security bracelet off before taking her out of the house, promising it would go right back on again when they returned.
But for now, she felt strange and unreal without that little metal reminder of her captivity. Could she find a way to run? She hadn't been this close to freedom in so long. But where would she go? All she wanted was for him to touch her. She couldn't imagine the pain of the absence of his touch, his nearness. All she wanted was to be closer to him, so how could she run? Everything she wanted was right here.
Lindsay didn't touch her or tease her in any way the whole excruciating drive into the city. A chilling thought hit her. Maybe he wanted her to run. What if he was tired of her? She didn't even have a collar like the other girls. How could she be a permanent resident and his real pet if she didn't even have a collar?
“Master?”
“Yes, kitten?”
“Are you upset with me?”
“Why would I be upset with you?”
“Never mind.”
Maybe he was bored. Maybe he liked brats. Should she be more bratty? Maybe it was the scars. Maybe they did bother him. Maybe he thought that they were ugly... that she was ugly. Maybe she was his pity fuck after all.
He'd broken down the carefully crafted walls she'd put up to protect herself from anyone, but especially him. If he just threw her away now or lost interest... Maybe bringing her in as his secretary was just another way to keep her on suicide watch to appease his own guilt. Maybe he didn't trust the others at the house to watch her.
Yes, he'd paid all that money and made it official or whatever but what was three million to him? Probably nothing. Or not much. And anyway, couldn't he be getting paid back somehow in an extra cut of the profits from Anton until things were balanced again? Maybe it really was just an elaborate game. And maybe he was finished playing it.
Sometimes she wished she was a stupider person, so she wouldn't have to think so much, so she could just take this at face value like other people might.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. She wiped them quickly away, but Lindsay noticed.
He pulled the car over onto the shoulder and put it in park.
“Hey. Talk to me.”
She shook her head. “I can't.”
“We've been making such progress.”
“I am a pity fuck to you.”
His expression turned dark and dangerous. “I never want to hear those words out of your mouth again. You are not a pity fuck.”
“Then what am I?”
“Mine.”
“But I don't have a collar.” She was now the kink equivalent of the where is this relationship going girl.
He unbuckled his seat belt and tu
rned toward her. He stroked the side of her face and held her gaze trapped in his. “I am not playing. You are completely mine. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, Master.” That word still felt so strange to her. It had been years since she'd used it with a man. And the last time it had been with someone she could just walk away from any time she wanted. As long as he wanted her, she actually did belong to Lindsay.
“Good girl. I'll order your collar today.” He said it as though he'd always planned to order one and he'd just been busy.
He turned back toward the road, put his seat belt on, and started the car again.
Shannon looked out the window trying to fight the small smile of relief.
Lindsay had just gotten off the phone with the collar guy. It was the guy Michael had used for Vivian. Then Brian had used him. Gabe had used him. So they'd started to think of him as their collar guy. It hadn't been a question of who Lindsay would call.
Before making the call He'd gotten Shannon settled in, explained her duties to her, told her to call him Sir at the office and then retreated behind his closed door.
The red light on his phone came on, followed by Shannon's voice.
“Sir, your ten-thirty is here.”
So professional. He should give her a raise.
“Miss Foster, could you come into my office for a moment?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Shut the door,” he said, when Shannon walked in. She was a vision in that short red skirt. When she walked, the dark lacy tops of the stockings peeked out to tease him before retreating back underneath the red fabric. The stockings were silk and very expensive. He never skimped on lingerie. He'd bought twenty pairs.
And she wasn't wearing panties. Or she'd better not be.
He motioned for her to come closer.
She stopped a few feet away from his desk.
“Closer, Miss Foster.”
She blushed when he addressed her by her last name. It was adorable.
“Good. Now I want you to spread your legs, hike that skirt up, and lean over and rest your forearms on the desk.”