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disciplined her as well as he
had. She admitted the truth of it, and released the last shred of
her resistance to him with a little sigh of surrender.
The riding crop struck on the other side. She
moaned and twisted, as if wanting to avoid its bite, but really,
she wanted more.
And more and more and more.
It was so beautifully simple, to be dominated
by a real master. It was so easy to surrender to the discipline, to
let him make all the choices and find all the balances. Athena
could just feel and respond and let him control her pleasure.
That was such a relief after the past weeks.
She didn’t want to make choices. She didn’t want to be
responsible.
She just wanted to be.
The Count caught her chin in his hand and
brushed his lips across the gag. She could feel the shape of his
mouth through the leather gag, a kiss that wasn’t a kiss, a kiss
that sent a surge of gratitude through her. Tenderness and
toughness, that intoxicating combination, and the one she needed
most at this moment. The familiar room blurred around her, the
years merged and she was lost in time. She was there in the past
and here in the present, and it was all one perfect scene with the
Count.
How she’d missed simplicity.
“You are beautiful, little dove, and you will
learn to obey. There will be ten blows in total.”
Ten. Just like before. Athena felt a quiver
deep inside at the realization of what would come afterward. All
she wanted was more.
“Nod your agreement.”
Athena shook her head, determined to defy him
again. Ten was not nearly enough, not now. She wanted at least
twenty from him on this night, a criss-cross of welts across her
ass, a complete merging of her defiance and submission.
The Count gripped her chin, forcing her to
remain still. “Fifteen, little dove?”
Athena made a howl of protest, which came
through the gag much muted.
“Such a hungry puss,” he murmured, then she
felt the leather handle of the riding crop against her pubis. He
smiled at her, his eyes shining, as he eased it between her thighs.
Oh yes, this was perfection. She closed her eyes as she felt it
collide with her clitoris and moaned despite herself at the
pleasure that shot through her body.
“Look at me,” he commanded and she did as she
was told. The Count slid the handle back and forth, coaxing her
response, making her body hum and her knees weaken. She stared into
the darkness of his eyes, and knew she was his possession.
“How naughty you are,” he chided, his voice
low. “You want more, but the decision is not up to you.” He rubbed
the riding crop against her with such resolve that she nearly came.
“Your defiance must have a price.”
Would he deny her the blows completely?
Athena had a heartbeat to panic. The Count
moved away so suddenly that she sagged and swayed against him, her
body burning with need. He strode to a side table, then opened the
drawer. He removed a pair of nipple clamps that had a chain between
them and Athena’s heart clenched.
They were silver or steel, and looked fierce,
even with the bit of fur lining the inside them. Athena disliked
nipple clamps herself, even though she liked the look of them on
her own slaves. She moaned and struggled, trying to put distance
between herself and the Count.
Of course, it was useless.
He smiled as he came to halt before her. “I
am the master here. Your desires will be submerged in mine,” he
said, his tone low and hypnotic. “You are mine.” He pinched her
nipple, drawing it easily to a taut point. He looked her in the
eye. “You will endure this for me.” Athena shivered as he opened
the clamp and lifted it toward her nipple. “Moan for me,” he said
softly. “Moan to concede control. Moan to acknowledge that I will
decide upon your discipline, not you.”
Athena moaned. She moaned with all her
strength and all her heart. She moaned as the teeth of the clamp
closed over first one nipple and then the other, constricting and
constraining her. The weight
Learning to Kill: Stories