Another Appointment Read Free Page A

allure. He studied documents and tomes of research, glancing to and from at his laptop screen, and occasionally making jottings. The slave was bewitched by the way his elegant, thinfingered hands held the barrel of his silver pen. His grip was light, yet controlled, and the nib skimmed across the paper. She imagined his grip on a cane or a whip, just as graceful, just as efficient.
    For about an hour, her master attended to his paperwork, and during that time the slave’s nerves were stretched and stretched. Today’s game was that she was just a thing to him, a living accessory, attractive flesh that he could dispose of as he so wished. The thought of being his, totally his, excited her. She became so agitated that she rubbed her legs together in a vain attempt to stimulate her aching sex.
    Just as she was beginning to feel a slight tremor of pleasure, her master looked up from his papers. He said nothing, but his eyes were gently reproving, cool yet distinctly playful. The slave shuddered once, then fell still, hiding a small triumph. He liked to project this chilly disciplinarian act, and he was mostly superb at it, but sometimes he slipped a little. He was human.
    Maintaining his silence, her master pushed his chair back and rose from his seat. Taking her by the arm, he led her to the prie dieu , the very one they’d chosen together as a special shared indulgence. It stood in the corner of the room, and by means of a series of cool, controlled gestures, he bade her lean over it and offer up to him her bare rump.
    The slave heard a drawer in the desk being opened, and then there was a long pause while, presumably, he selected an implement with which to punish her. After what felt like a minute, the drawer was quietly slid shut again.
    “I’m going to beat you now,” he said quietly. “I’m going to give you ten strokes with this strap, and I want you to remain silent throughout.” He lapsed into musing thoughtfulness for a moment, then continued, “I shall be pleased with you if you can keep quiet. Very pleased. But if you cry out, I may have to send you home.”
    The slave clenched every muscle in her body and braced herself. She wouldn’t give in; she wouldn’t make a single sound.
    The pain of the first blow was excruciating. Squeezing her fingers into fists, the slave fought the wild urge to scream. For the next stripe, she clapped her hand across her mouth, churning her bottom in an attempt to dull the suffering, but at the third, she was forced to gasp out loud.
    “Have a care,” murmured her master, then he went on to apply the remaining strokes.
    The slave managed to stifle her groans, but when it was over, she wasn’t sure how she’d achieved this. Her bottom was pounding, glowing, pulsating, each marking from the strap a band of fire.
    “Stand up,” ordered her master quietly, then he waited while she staggered to her feet, her knees threatening to buckle at any second.
    “Turn around. Kneel before me. Open your mouth.”
    When she obeyed, swaying, he unfastened his trousers and pushed his penis between her lips, then thrust roughly until he ejaculated down her throat. The slave swallowed every drop of his thick, salty fluid.
    “And now, the final test,” he said as he covered himself again. “We’re going for a drive. Go upstairs and put your coat on.” His voice was curt and tight, as if he were controlling himself stringently. The slave knew better than to linger and almost staggered from the room, her bottom flaming and the taste of his semen on her tongue.
    Before he put her into his car, he gagged her, slipping a black rubber sphere into her mouth and fastening it there with narrow straps behind her head. When that was in place, he covered her hair and her face with a loose leather hood, plunging her into darkness as he carefully adjusted its fit, making sure the breathing holes were aligned with her nostrils.
    “There, that’ll make things easier for you,” he said and she wondered