slave, that’s really my only option.
“You know there are a lot of… privacy issues inherent in that,” Cash mumbles, tense.
I hate seeing him this vulnerable, so completely at the mercy of someone else. I hate feeling that way myself; somehow it is worse to see my master acting that way. At least I’ve had practice.
Cash shoots him a desperate look. “I’d appreciate it if the business proposals I’ve shared with you stay between us, for now.”
“Hmm, sharing, what a concept,” Torenze points out. He’s not pushing any further, but the threat is there, and it is clear. He’s retaliating against my master’s refusal to share me. Threatening to destroy a business, destroy a man’s life, all because a pretty little sex slave isn’t up for grabs. I’d feel like Helen of Troy, except I really don’t think I’m that special. It’s the principle of the matter; any slave could take my place for Torenze.
I can’t take the conflict, and I decide that recklessness is the best solution. With a little bit of a tug, I break away from Cash’s grip, ignoring the furious glare he gives me. I don’t care if he rips me away and beats me again; I’d prefer that to watching our project summarily destroyed by this man I hate. It seems that the only weapon I have against Torenze is myself, my body, and I’m willing to put it on the line to shut him up.
Cash is far too proper to fight with me in public. He lets me go, and when he does, I go to Torenze, dropping to my knees at his feet. It’s showy, but it works. It’s what I’m trained for, and when I’m fully clothed and adequately motivated, I can play the part of pretty sex toy very well.
I don’t speak, because I know that Torenze prefers overly formal slaves, and formal training dictates that I’m quiet until I’m spoken to. It also dictates that I don’t flinch or bat away the hand that comes down in my hair, petting me appraisingly, as if I’m a show dog. I don’t care about the humiliation; I care about my master and our project.
“Well, this is certainly a more interesting topic,” Torenze declares. “Such soft hair.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper, glancing up at him in the most seductive way possible.
“Is the rest of you this soft?” he teases, coming back to catch me by the nape of my neck, holding me there. It’s oddly uncomfortable; it doesn’t really hurt, but it’s so controlling and done so carelessly that it makes me want to squirm away from it. I know better.
“I have many soft parts, sir,” I answer, smiling seductively. The only soft thing right now is my cock; everything else is tense and struggling not to pull away. But I can’t embarrass myself and my master that way. I chose this, now I have to follow through.
“He is quite captivating,” one of the women conversing points out, oblivious to the power play. Good. It’s working. “Wherever did you find such a slave?”
Cash flushes deeply. While he doesn’t seem to resent talking about me anymore, he doesn’t enjoy it, and he especially doesn’t enjoy answering questions about where he got me, because it’s completely below him. “It was an off-market,” he manages, obscuring the details. “Out of business, now, they weren’t really the most reputable. Sometimes, you find gems where you least expect them.”
I blush as well, not-so-secretly pleased to hear my master call me something so nice.
“They treated him rather roughly from what you’ve told me, Cash,” Torenze teases, the wink in his eye far more malicious than playful. He’s also hinting that he’s more familiar than he really is with me or with my master. He knows I’m scarred up because he watched me being beaten, not because we’re friends. But nobody watching has any idea about that.
“Not everyone knows how to treat a quality product,” Cash dismisses, and I am pleased by his words again. Even though he calls me a product, even though Torenze is pulling a little harder than
“You know there are a lot of… privacy issues inherent in that,” Cash mumbles, tense.
I hate seeing him this vulnerable, so completely at the mercy of someone else. I hate feeling that way myself; somehow it is worse to see my master acting that way. At least I’ve had practice.
Cash shoots him a desperate look. “I’d appreciate it if the business proposals I’ve shared with you stay between us, for now.”
“Hmm, sharing, what a concept,” Torenze points out. He’s not pushing any further, but the threat is there, and it is clear. He’s retaliating against my master’s refusal to share me. Threatening to destroy a business, destroy a man’s life, all because a pretty little sex slave isn’t up for grabs. I’d feel like Helen of Troy, except I really don’t think I’m that special. It’s the principle of the matter; any slave could take my place for Torenze.
I can’t take the conflict, and I decide that recklessness is the best solution. With a little bit of a tug, I break away from Cash’s grip, ignoring the furious glare he gives me. I don’t care if he rips me away and beats me again; I’d prefer that to watching our project summarily destroyed by this man I hate. It seems that the only weapon I have against Torenze is myself, my body, and I’m willing to put it on the line to shut him up.
Cash is far too proper to fight with me in public. He lets me go, and when he does, I go to Torenze, dropping to my knees at his feet. It’s showy, but it works. It’s what I’m trained for, and when I’m fully clothed and adequately motivated, I can play the part of pretty sex toy very well.
I don’t speak, because I know that Torenze prefers overly formal slaves, and formal training dictates that I’m quiet until I’m spoken to. It also dictates that I don’t flinch or bat away the hand that comes down in my hair, petting me appraisingly, as if I’m a show dog. I don’t care about the humiliation; I care about my master and our project.
“Well, this is certainly a more interesting topic,” Torenze declares. “Such soft hair.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper, glancing up at him in the most seductive way possible.
“Is the rest of you this soft?” he teases, coming back to catch me by the nape of my neck, holding me there. It’s oddly uncomfortable; it doesn’t really hurt, but it’s so controlling and done so carelessly that it makes me want to squirm away from it. I know better.
“I have many soft parts, sir,” I answer, smiling seductively. The only soft thing right now is my cock; everything else is tense and struggling not to pull away. But I can’t embarrass myself and my master that way. I chose this, now I have to follow through.
“He is quite captivating,” one of the women conversing points out, oblivious to the power play. Good. It’s working. “Wherever did you find such a slave?”
Cash flushes deeply. While he doesn’t seem to resent talking about me anymore, he doesn’t enjoy it, and he especially doesn’t enjoy answering questions about where he got me, because it’s completely below him. “It was an off-market,” he manages, obscuring the details. “Out of business, now, they weren’t really the most reputable. Sometimes, you find gems where you least expect them.”
I blush as well, not-so-secretly pleased to hear my master call me something so nice.
“They treated him rather roughly from what you’ve told me, Cash,” Torenze teases, the wink in his eye far more malicious than playful. He’s also hinting that he’s more familiar than he really is with me or with my master. He knows I’m scarred up because he watched me being beaten, not because we’re friends. But nobody watching has any idea about that.
“Not everyone knows how to treat a quality product,” Cash dismisses, and I am pleased by his words again. Even though he calls me a product, even though Torenze is pulling a little harder than
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