haircut. No more excuses.”
He led her into the bathroom. This time he placed a wooden desk
chair in front of the sinks, on which he had her sit. Using rope, he tied her
securely to the chair, winding the rope over and beneath her breasts and tying
it in slip knots behind her back. Next he cuffed her wrists together behind the
chair.
She looked incredibly sexy like that, her breasts jutting
from between the rope, thrust out by her position. Even if she fainted, she
wouldn’t budge an inch the way he’d bound her. He reached for the scissors and
picked up a section of her long, silky hair. In a way it was a shame to cut off
such lovely hair, but at the same time the idea ignited something dark and
powerful inside him.
As he opened the scissors, M closed her eyes, her head
bowing. “Head up, eyes open,” Ellis snapped. “You will watch as I cut your hair
and shave your head.”
M’s eyes flew open, the color draining from her face as she
took in what he had just said. “That’s right.” Ellis nodded. “I’m going to
shave it all off. It’s a good lesson in humility, M. It brings home that I can
do whatever I want to you, and you will thank me for it, as you must thank me
for all things. I am your Master. I give you food and water. I keep you safe. I
allow you to serve me. I allow you to live. Without me to take care of you, you
would die. Remember that. Let it be the first thing you think of when you wake,
and the last thing you recall as you drift to sleep.”
The sharp silver scissors glinted against her dark hair.
Ellis closed them with a snick and let the first long lock drop to the floor.
There was no going back now—only forward.
Slave M
Chapter 8
“I belong to you, Sir. You are the Master of my body and
soul. You allow me to serve you. I live for you, Sir. Without you, I would
die.”
“Again.”
M shuddered as Sir moved his oiled fingertip lightly over
her clit. The vibrator he had inserted into her cunt pulsed in a steady rhythm.
It felt so good she almost forgot the pinch of the nipple clamps or the aching
hunger that was a constant in her belly.
She was lying on her bed beside him, her wrists tied together
with rope, her arms resting over her head on the pillow, her legs spread wide.
Her body was slick with sweat, her limbs trembling from the effort of staving
off orgasm for the past hour. She knew she was nearly at the end of her ability
to resist. Soon her body would betray her, and she would pay the price.
Sir was naked beside her, his cock hard against her leg. The
salty, slightly bitter taste of his come still lingered in her mouth from her
morning worship. She loved when he came in her mouth and she made sure to
swallow every drop. On days when she’d been a disobedient slave girl, sometimes
it was the only sustenance she got.
“I belong to you, Sir,” she repeated, the words flowing
easily. They were the first words she said when she woke, and the last words
she recited when she went to sleep. “You are the Master of my body and soul.
You allow me to serve you. I live for you, Sir. Without you, I would die.”
His fingers moved in a rapid patter of pure perfection over
her labia while the vibrator sent spirals of pleasure radiating outward from
her core. Sir knew just how to touch her. M moaned softly, arching into his
hand.
“Don’t you dare,” Sir said sharply. “You remember what
happened last time.” Sir reiterated his reminder with a sharp, painful smack of
his open palm against her spread labia. M hissed in pain but didn’t close her
legs. She knew better than that. She must never close her legs to Sir, no
matter how much it hurt. To do so was to deny him, and to deny him was to
disobey.
Last time she had come without permission, he’d given her a
choice. “You can take ten strokes of the cane on the bottom of each foot,” he’d
said. “Or you can forego food and water for twenty-four hours.”
The caning had been excruciating, and the soles of
He led her into the bathroom. This time he placed a wooden desk
chair in front of the sinks, on which he had her sit. Using rope, he tied her
securely to the chair, winding the rope over and beneath her breasts and tying
it in slip knots behind her back. Next he cuffed her wrists together behind the
chair.
She looked incredibly sexy like that, her breasts jutting
from between the rope, thrust out by her position. Even if she fainted, she
wouldn’t budge an inch the way he’d bound her. He reached for the scissors and
picked up a section of her long, silky hair. In a way it was a shame to cut off
such lovely hair, but at the same time the idea ignited something dark and
powerful inside him.
As he opened the scissors, M closed her eyes, her head
bowing. “Head up, eyes open,” Ellis snapped. “You will watch as I cut your hair
and shave your head.”
M’s eyes flew open, the color draining from her face as she
took in what he had just said. “That’s right.” Ellis nodded. “I’m going to
shave it all off. It’s a good lesson in humility, M. It brings home that I can
do whatever I want to you, and you will thank me for it, as you must thank me
for all things. I am your Master. I give you food and water. I keep you safe. I
allow you to serve me. I allow you to live. Without me to take care of you, you
would die. Remember that. Let it be the first thing you think of when you wake,
and the last thing you recall as you drift to sleep.”
The sharp silver scissors glinted against her dark hair.
Ellis closed them with a snick and let the first long lock drop to the floor.
There was no going back now—only forward.
Slave M
Chapter 8
“I belong to you, Sir. You are the Master of my body and
soul. You allow me to serve you. I live for you, Sir. Without you, I would
die.”
“Again.”
M shuddered as Sir moved his oiled fingertip lightly over
her clit. The vibrator he had inserted into her cunt pulsed in a steady rhythm.
It felt so good she almost forgot the pinch of the nipple clamps or the aching
hunger that was a constant in her belly.
She was lying on her bed beside him, her wrists tied together
with rope, her arms resting over her head on the pillow, her legs spread wide.
Her body was slick with sweat, her limbs trembling from the effort of staving
off orgasm for the past hour. She knew she was nearly at the end of her ability
to resist. Soon her body would betray her, and she would pay the price.
Sir was naked beside her, his cock hard against her leg. The
salty, slightly bitter taste of his come still lingered in her mouth from her
morning worship. She loved when he came in her mouth and she made sure to
swallow every drop. On days when she’d been a disobedient slave girl, sometimes
it was the only sustenance she got.
“I belong to you, Sir,” she repeated, the words flowing
easily. They were the first words she said when she woke, and the last words
she recited when she went to sleep. “You are the Master of my body and soul.
You allow me to serve you. I live for you, Sir. Without you, I would die.”
His fingers moved in a rapid patter of pure perfection over
her labia while the vibrator sent spirals of pleasure radiating outward from
her core. Sir knew just how to touch her. M moaned softly, arching into his
hand.
“Don’t you dare,” Sir said sharply. “You remember what
happened last time.” Sir reiterated his reminder with a sharp, painful smack of
his open palm against her spread labia. M hissed in pain but didn’t close her
legs. She knew better than that. She must never close her legs to Sir, no
matter how much it hurt. To do so was to deny him, and to deny him was to
disobey.
Last time she had come without permission, he’d given her a
choice. “You can take ten strokes of the cane on the bottom of each foot,” he’d
said. “Or you can forego food and water for twenty-four hours.”
The caning had been excruciating, and the soles of
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