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Chapter 9
When she awoke Sunday morning, she was on his bed, curled in a ball at his feet. Unlike the night before, she hadn’t been made to sleep in the cage, although he had effectively reminded her of her place. Sunlight streamed through the window and she stretched as best she could, with her hands tied in front of her and her feet secured to the post. Her ass burned and her whole body tingled. She was marked all over, and where she wasn't marked, she could still feel the places he had touched her.
She hadn't been allowed to orgasm since Friday night and her pussy screamed for him, and for the sweet release he had withheld when he fucked her there. He had taken her everywhere now, her mouth, her pussy and her bottom more than once. He had whipped her with belts and floggers and once with a charging cord. He had bent her over his knee for a pre-bedtime paddling and none of it mattered. Still, she wanted more. She couldn’t wait to see what the day would bring.
The rules of Visitors' Weekend were clear: their time together ended at six p.m. She strained to catch a glimpse of the clock on his nightstand, squinting through sleepy eyes at the glowing red numbers, 8:15. They had less than ten hours. It seemed like such a long time and still so short. She didn't want it to end but knew that eventually it would have to. Her body needed a break and come Monday morning, they would have to resume their normal lives, working together in the library, professor and service sub.
She didn't know how she could possibly go back to that after this weekend. How would she be able to sit there, shelving books with him as if he hadn't seen and owned every inch of her? As if she hadn't had his cock in every orifice and hadn't spent the weekend calling him Master and Daddy? She’d eaten from his hand, slept in a cage and drank from a bowl on the floor. She had been degraded, humiliated and built back up with praise and pleasure. She had been pleasured and punished alternately, sometimes both at the same time, and then it was just going to end and real-life resume? It didn't seem possible, but she knew that it was not only possible, it was inevitable and imminent.
Above her, Dalton stretched, his feet pushing against her calves as he slowly came awake. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and blinked at her, a slow and sadistic grin spreading across his face.
"Good morning, kitten. Looks like we both slept in a little today." He reached down and untied her. "You may use the facilities if you need to. And you may shower, if you’d like. I'm going to order breakfast. Bacon and eggs. You'll need sustenance for what I plan to do to you today."
At his announcement, she blinked and shivered, stretching her arms and legs, rubbing her wrists as she woke up her aching limbs. When she was ready, she got off the bed, lowering herself to all fours as soon as her feet hit the floor and crawled off to the bathroom.
Before she could close the door behind her, he called out. "Fifteen minutes, kitten. You won’t like what happens if I have to come in after you."
She gave no indication that she heard him and closed the door behind her. Fifteen minutes wasn't long enough to shower and clean up after all that she had endured at his hands, and while his threat stated that she wouldn't like what happened if he had to come in after her, she knew that she would. She liked everything he did to her, and with today being their last day, she figured it was only fair that she do her part to make it memorable.
With a wicked smile, she locked the bathroom door. She wasn’t stupid enough to think it would keep him from coming in after her, but she didn’t have to make it easy on him either.
She knew that she had no time to waste so she couldn't give herself more than a cursory glance in the mirror, but the glimpse she caught of her marks sent shivers down her spine. She quickly relieved herself, then stood in the middle of the large bathroom, looking between the glass-encased shower stall with its massaging heads and the deep claw foot tub. Both were luxurious but only one was forbidden. Without giving herself time to think better of it, she strode to the tub, pulled the lever to plug it and turned on the water.
If he was paying attention, he would hear the difference between the stream of the shower and the steady flow of the faucet, and be alerted to her naughtiness right away, but she knew he would give her the full fifteen minutes, plus however long it took him to get the door unlocked from the outside. Unless he was very handy with a bobby pin, assuming he even had one, he would have to call down to housekeeping and have them unlock the door for him.
The reality of how much trouble she could be in when he got to her sank in, and for a split second, she considered unlocking the door and starting the shower, but the steam rising from the tub looked so inviting and her muscles ached.
A glass jar on the counter filled with white pebble looking things caught her eye. Epsom salts. If she was going to risk being severely punished, she might as well make it worth it.
Lifting the jar, she tipped it upside down over the water and dumped in a liberal amount. They sunk to the bottom of the tub and quickly dissolved. Now it was her turn.
She quickly stepped into the tub and sank into the steaming water. The skin on her ass and thighs burnt and screamed when the water hit them, but the burn was fleeting and delicious.
The tub was nearly full; the water pressure was insane, so she shut it off and sank lower into the tub, letting the water cover her whole body. Her aching muscles relaxed, and she closed her eyes. She didn't have very long, so she needed to enjoy every second she could.
"Two minutes, pet!" he called through the door, jolting her upright with a start.
She stared at the locked doorknob with a pit in her stomach. Two minutes was enough time. She could jump out, dry off, and run out to present herself as his obedient little kitten. If he didn’t come in to use the restroom himself before the tub drained, he would never know about her attempted naughtiness.
It was morning. The odds of him not having to use the restroom were zero, and the fact that he had let her have first dibs only spoke to the fact that at heart, apart from all his torturing and delicious abuse, he was a gentleman. A gentleman with a sadistic side that she was about to get the full effect of.
The doorknob rattled and she dropped beneath the water, submerging her whole head so she couldn't hear the doom that was about to befall her as it approached.
Even underwater, she couldn't not hear it. The rattling of the doorknob grew loud and urgent and was soon replaced by him pounding on the bathroom door with his open palm. The door rattled on its hinges but didn't budge.
"Unlock the door this instant!" His voice was hard, though she caught a smidge of amusement and disbelief lurking under his tone.
"Or what?" she called back with a grin. She was digging her own grave and she couldn't believe her own brattiness. For sure he would call her out for it and say she was trying to control how their day went, and he would be right. She couldn't deny it. She wanted to see how much further he could push her. She wanted to be broken. She wanted to feel the pain of their final encounter for days to follow, and yes, she was making sure that would happen, but they both knew she couldn't control anything. How he punished her was up to him and him alone, and he had made that very clear.
"Emily!" he warned, using her name for the first time since their safeword discussion. "You are in so much trouble, pet. Unlock this door, right now!"
Frowning at his use of her name, she pushed herself back under the water. Holding her breath, she counted the seconds ticking by. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three… four …
When she reached fifty, she came up for air. A pause to listen told her he was no longer at the door. Her time was running low. She wondered if he had called down for housekeeping yet, or if he was tearing his room apart looking for something small enough to breach the pin-size keyhole.
Her questions were answered, when he burst through the door with a startled looking sub behind him, assessing the scene with wide eyes. The sub, who she didn't actually recognize this time, squeaked and grabbed the key from the door before scurrying out into the hall.
Emily looked at him as he approached. Not that it took him very long to reach her. There was nowhere to run. When he got to the tub, he plunged his arms into the water, grabbing her around the waist. Water went everywhere as he hauled her to her feet before throwing her over his shoulder.
