Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

him. He smells of leather and sex and expensive cologne. My body turns to warm rubber, all but my nipples, which are hard as stone.
    “What nonsense is this?” the Master demands. His heavy boots ring on the hard floor as he crosses the room. “I could hear you halfway down the hall, Girl. All of this over a spanking from Cook ?”
    I sense Cook stepping back, but it’s too late to be afraid. The Master grabs my hair—not even close to the scalp, a sensation I love—he simply winds my long strands around his fist and pulls me right off the table. Something goes crashing to the floor and I know it’s my fault, but I couldn’t apologize even if I weren’t gagged. He’s pulling me along and my feet hit the edge of a carpet and I stumble. He catches me, pulling up on my hair, and the tears want to start again because I am being so clumsy. But the Master simply keeps dragging me along, and I keep tripping over my bare feet, blind, with my arms bound behind my back and no way to catch myself should I fall. I’m a little shattered by how he’s handling me. But that’s his intention, I’m sure. Keeping me off-balance, physically, mentally, emotionally. People like him, the real trainers of the world, are masters of the mind fuck. They are the masters of everything, as far as I’m concerned. My Master, and I feel it on a new, deeper level. This is exactly what I wanted. This is exactly what I fear.
    This is exactly what I have needed all my life.
    Yes.
     
     

 

Chapter Three
     
    The carpet ends and there is hardwood beneath my feet for a moment, then another rug, this one soft and plush. Immediately I sense that someone else is here. I try to take in my surroundings through the means left me, to retain my balance as the Master has me stop, keeping a hand on my shoulder to steady me. I take in the earthy, sharp scent of ash and wood from a fire burning in the hearth, and behind it is the scent of perfume. It smells expensive, like jasmine and lace. My ass and my thighs still burn from my beating in the kitchen and I’m not quite over the emotion of the tears—I’m really beginning to overload. Taking a deep breath, I try to give myself over to it all. But the trick right now is to give myself over to him . That’s what will help me.
    “What do you think of my latest acquisition, my dear Mistress Alexa?” the Master asks.
    “Hmm.”
    I hear her step toward me, then I can feel the heat of her body as she moves closer.
    “Beautiful hair,” she says. “I adore red hair on a woman. But hers is really more auburn, isn’t it? So straight and sleek.” She runs a hand through my hair, her fingers catching in a tangle. “Silky. Very nice. Beautiful, small breasts. The pale nipples are perfection. Sweet.” She tweaks one of them, and I try not to wince, but I do, making her laugh, a low, wicked sound. “Sensitive girl. She’s tall for me, but I could put on my stilettos to fuck her with my strap-on.”
    He chuckles. “I suppose wanting to fuck her means you approve?”
    She tweaks my nipple again, pressing hard into the flesh and I breathe into the pain, exhale as she does it again, harder this time, not letting the pressure up. I have to really focus to convert the pain, and finally get a small flood of endorphins. Lovely.
    “Look how hard her nipple gets,” she murmurs quietly. “How deliciously it darkens. And how naked they look, don’t they, Damon?”
    Damon.
    I savor the sound of his name on my tongue, a name I will never, ever use. But knowing it is like a gift.
    “They might be pierced soon enough,” he says, making me shudder. Or shiver. I don’t know which.
    “Of course—you pierce all your House slaves. Except for the beautiful Christopher.”
    A slave called by name? Is that possible here? But I’m too immersed in what’s happening to give it more thought.
    “He came with the left one already pierced and I liked the way it looked. I like even more that he did it himself.”
    “Well, so