Her voice trembles. “I want to learn.”
“You’re too dumb for that.”
“Then teach me.”
The desperation in her voice is becoming increasingly evident. This is what domination is about, something she’ll never understand—making the other so desperate for your attention that even sacrificing their life for you is something they are willing to do.
“Not until you mean it.”
I can practically hear the gears grinding in that little head of hers. The concept alone short-circuits her brain. This bitch is so used to being tossed around that she forgot how to think. No idea how to earn anything—just waits to be used.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” she whispers.
At last, that is something I can work with.
“Take off your blouse,” I say, keeping my voice flat.
Her fingers grope at the hem, pulling it up awkwardly. The fabric lifts, revealing her pale skin. Her moves, the way sheundresses herself, are supposed to be seductive. Instead, she looks utterly clumsy, the pure image of a woman losing her grip.
I watch as she sacrifices the last drop of self-respect, and it’s far more fascinating than any polished performance.
“Now your bra,” I add, completely unimpressed by the show.
Her body doesn’t interest me, but there is a point to prove.
Her bra joins the shirt at her knees. Exposed, her breathing quickens, making her breasts bounce up and down frantically. This is her cue to look up, innocent, fully expecting me to stare at her body. Wrong person.
“If you’re waiting for me to tell you that you’re doing well…” I murmur, leaning in until my lips almost touch her ear. “I don’t give praise for following basic instructions.”
I stand and reach into my desk drawer, pulling out a soft black rope. The sight of it causes a shift in her posture, but she doesn’t move. She’s still trying to be brave, which only proves how far she is from grasping the true meaning of all this.
Kneeling behind her, I tie her ankles together first, tight enough to limit her movement. Then her wrists, roped and locked in at her back.
I go back in front of her, unbuckling my belt, watching her tremble.
“You think degradation is foreplay? That being used is just the beginning of something your pathetic brain pictured.”
I stroke my cock, fully aware she cannot get me hard. She has nothing that a man would desire, and the fact she thinks she does needs to be corrected. “You imagined this moment as something beautiful, didn’t you? But there’s nothing beautiful about a worthless bitch waiting to be used.”
I grab her by the hair, pulling it down so now her eyes stare straight into mine.
“This is the part where you panic,” I whisper. “Use your mouth.” I shove my cock in her face.
She tries to take my dick in her mouth, but the position of her head makes it hard to move past the tip. There is something so inelegant in the way she’s licking and trying to prove she knows what she is doing.
I watch her mouth working, tongue sloppy, trying to fake experience. Trying to be the good little teacher’s pet. But her rhythm is wrong. Her eyes are too eager. She has no idea what it means to serve.
This will take the entire night if I let her continue this way—time I don’t have. I need to use it to find a way to bring back that little fucking experiment. I bet her mouth would work better than…What the actual fuck, Azrael?Why the fuck would I even think of that? Fucking hell.
Even just thinking about that is blameworthy. I should be focused on making the creature in front of me worthy of my attention.
Running my fingers through Samantha’s hair, I take full control of her mouth’s movement, driving inside her throat. I start pounding her mouth, probably more vigorously than I should, all the way back to her throat, hoping it will leave bruises. She is a hole and nothing more; her only purpose is to be destroyed so my mind can be recalibrated.
Once her throat has unwillingly adjusted to my size, I push in my full length, and I hold her there, face buried in my cock, with her nose pressed against me. She tries to breathe, a series of short, desperate gagging breaths against my skin, but the way her face is turning a beautiful shade of blue tells me nothing goes around my cock. I can almost taste the desperation in the air, imagining the wet shame that drips between her legs.
“Breathe through your nose,” I mutter. “If you dare to puke, I’ll make sure you choke on it.”
That glint now visible in her eyes behind the tears is exactly what I wanted. Fear. I can’t help but smile. She finallyunderstands she could die right here, and that would make this nothing more than another Thursday for me.