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“Yes,” Master Séverin says. “But I believe that’s changing. She’s changing.”
“It has to, love,” Master Erek says to him. “If it doesn’t, she cannot stay with us.”
My heart plummets. Not that I thought this would be a permanent arrangement, but the reality of losing them is too near, hearing him say the words. And at the same time, I’m filled with such a deep, gnawing shame at not being able to be what I am supposed to be, and I begin to cry. I can’t help it. Long sobs, as quietly as I can, but not quietly enough.
Master Séverin sits up and grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. He stares into my eyes, and it only makes me cry harder.
Master Erek leans in from my right side and sweeps a few fingers over my cheek.
“Christ, but the way this Girl cries. Her tears are so damn beautiful. I don’t know that I can let her go, despite her difficulty in sinking into her slavehood. She is so good in every other way. What do you think, my love?”
“I think we should make her cry harder.”
Oh, yes, please…
My body, my heart, surge with a need so acute, so sharply edged, I can barely stand it. Do I break down before them? Do I come as I sob? I want it all, in a way I cannot deny and have absolutely no choice in.
If I thought I was a twisted, fucked-up mess before, it has never been more evident than it is right now.
Master Erek sits up and I can hear him undressing, and I yearn to see his naked body. But he gets back on the bed behind me, on his knees, I think, and lifts my arms over my head, then coils his strong arms around my ribs, holding me painfully tight.
“Hands clasped behind your head, pretty Girl,” he commands.
When I obey, my beautiful Master Séverin sits up on his knees and he takes my breasts in his hands, cupping them for a moment, and my nipples go hard—I swear I can feel them swell, as if they’re trying to reach out to him. As he sweeps his fingers over the hard tips, a shock of desire lances through me, and the sensation is so exquisitely unexpected I let a moan escape.
“Silence,” he orders with a hard slap across my face.
I hang my head, trying to show my obedience, even as Master Erek holds me in such a position that my back is arched, my tits held high. And Master Séverin leans in and takes my nipple into his warm, wet mouth. Instantly, my pussy is soaking wet, and as he begins to suck I’m afraid I’ll come. But then he bites, so damn hard I gasp as his teeth sink into my flesh.
He lets my nipple slip from his mouth and goes to the other one, licking at first, then biting down, even harder this time, and it makes my clit pulse, almost as if his mouth is there. Then he lets my nipple go and moves his mouth to the full curve of the underside of my breast, where he bites me again, so hard with his sharp teeth I know he’s drawing blood. Blood play always frightens me, yet thrills me in equal measure, and I am even closer to coming, knowing what he’s done. He moves his mouth a few inches and bites me again, and again and again, all over both of my breasts, then my ribs, and then he moves around to that tender spot on my side, right at the curve of my waist. He bites me so hard I yelp, and the tears are spilling down my cheeks while Master Erek laughs, a low, sultry chuckle full of pleasure.
I am humiliated, as I always am when I cry, no matter how often I do it. No matter how much a Master loves a slave’s tears. And I’m so fucking turned on. My mind is slipping deep into my slavehood, my brain going dreamy, my vision fogged by pain and desire, and the feeling of truly being a slave.
Theirs.
Yes.
Master Erek pulls me in tighter again, until my shoulders ache, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I am serving my Masters. That my pain, my blood, and my tears please them.
When Master Séverin sits up to look at me, pulling my head up to gaze into my eyes, he wears a smile that is so purely wicked and so purely pleased, it makes my head spin. And his dark eyes hold some emotion I can’t quite read, other than the power of it. But I feel it. It makes my heart hammer so fast, as though hummingbird wings are beating in there. If I weren’t being held so firmly I would surge toward him, craving his touch, his nearness.
“I love you,” I whisper, unable to help myself, suddenly desperate to let him know.
So many expressions cross his features so quickly, I’m unable to keep up. His eyes narrow, then widen, and he leans in until his face is inches from mine.
He says very quietly, “I love you, too, Girl.”
My heart stutters, then seems to jump out of my chest.
“But now I have to really punish you,” he continues. “Know that I do it with love, my Girl. Because it is what you need. And what we need.”
I give a small nod of my head to let him to know I understand.
But the truth is, I don’t even know what is happening here. This is something entirely new for me, this brief but deep communication with my Master. Of course I adore my Mistress Clara, but do I love her? Not like this.
“Chain her up,” Master Séverin tells Master Erek.
Master Erek releases me and pulls me by my ankles off the bed and onto the floor.
