Page 16

Stefanos

I stepped back before she could touch my feet. Was this the manipulating whore-like tricks these women used? Sucked men in? Destroying families? I reached down to take her by the collar, ignoring her wailing, and dragged her upstairs to shove her into her cage before I slammed it shut.

Her ass and thighs are littered with lines from my cane. She turned her head, looking at me through her cage, eyes wide and glistening with tears. Blood was smudged on her chin and I noticed the cut on her lip. When I didn’t speak, she curled into herself and lay on the white bedding. The sight of her broken spirit remained with me as I left the bedroom.

I told myself this was necessary—that she needed to learn her place, to understand the consequences of her actions. But as I close the door behind me, the echo of her soft whimper followed me.

I strode into the living room, the familiar scent of leather and wood grounding me. The decanter of scotch catches the dim light, and I pour myself a generous measure, the amber liquid swirling like molten fire in the glass. I take a long sip, letting the burn sear away the unease that began to creep into my chest.

She’s clever, that one. Too clever. Her submission, her obedience—it’s all too natural, too effortless. And yet, there were moments, fleeting but undeniable, when I caught a glimmer of something else in her gaze. Perhaps it was a spark of calculation or a whisper of manipulation.

And tonight she fucked herself back on my dick, she took it all, sucking the seed out my balls like a fucking demon whore. That pussy. That delicious juicy wet cunt. When she came she not only drenched my dick but had soaked my balls with her cum. The thought that she would be like this with any other man left a bad taste in my mouth. It was infuriating.

I sank into the couch, cradling the glass in my hand, staring into the empty fireplace. She was playing me, wasn’t she? Testing the boundaries, seeing how far she could push before I push back. And I did push back—harder than I intended, perhaps. But it was necessary.

With a heavy sigh, I take another drink, the scotch warming my throat but doing little to quell the turmoil within. The fire of revenge that once burned so brightly in me felt—dimmer now.

No. I won’t let her win. I won’t let her worm her way into my head. She’s mine to control, mine to shape. And yet, as I sit here in the quiet, the image of her tear-streaked face lingered, and I can’t help but wonder if the real battle isn’t with her at all—but with myself.

Did any of it matter? As long as she remained my pet bitch and whore.

***

I pushed the bedroom door open. The air felt thick, heavier with the weight of what transpired. She was silent and still lying in the same position I left her in. When I opened the cage door she didn’t move. The cage was spacious enough for me to climb in behind her. I spread some of the cream on my hands before gently applying it over the welts on her legs and ass.

“Get on your stomach,”

I said quietly.

She moved instantly, but slowed her motion when she gasped in pain. When she turned onto her belly, the full extent of my rage was on display. The reddened skin was the worst around her ass with welts from hits that made contact more than once on the same spot. The lines across her thighs were more even. Her ass took the brunt of my rage.

“You may speak freely,”

I said liberally applying more of the numbing cream over her caned flesh.

“I’m sorry for disobeying you, Master,”

she whispered but her voice was barely audible.

I frowned at her words while I continued to apply the cream.

“How did you disobey me?”

I asked while wondering if she would confess trying to entrap me with her feminine wiles.

I glanced at her cum stained pussy and cane marks. My cheeks burned as my cock began to harden at the sight.

“I spoke when I came. I’m sorry,”

she whispered. “I-I didn’t mean to.”

I thought back to when she came around and what I said to her. She said ‘Oh, God’ during her orgasm. It was an excuse I used against her because I thought she was trying to manipulate me.

“You took your punishment like a good bitch. All is forgiven,”

I said gently.

“Oh, thank you, Master. It slipped out—”

“Put it out of your mind. It is forgotten,”

I said, interrupting her.

Was it this simple? She was being genuine?

“Yes, Master,”

she said pulling the covers against her chest, as if seeking comfort from them.

Her body relaxed and I continued to massage her skin, fortunately there were no cuts on her skin. She would be out of commission for a few days, but I could let her explore the house and terrace.

***

Amari had the freedom of the house, yet after the first few hours of her newly found independence, she came into my office and lay beside my chair. As I worked I couldn’t stop glancing at her but she didn’t move until I got up to make a cup of coffee.

Which would have been fine if my housekeeper hadn’t been there. Lydia practically ran out of the house. My little pet bitch bowed down in her apologetic stance until I patted her head. I could hire another staff member the next time I came. She made a video call with her family but I lurked in the background ensuring she didn't say anything about her actual situation. I heard the concern in the mother’s voice and the excitement in the child’s.

She followed me everywhere for the next two days and it wasn’t long until she began to brush herself against me or nuzzle her snout at my shorts. Her lip was healing and there were only a few marks left on her ass. It wasn’t until I came out of the shower to see in the ‘horny’ pose that my resolve cracked. She was on her hands and knees with her head in the air and ass thrust out to show her tail off.

I yanked the white towel off my waist, she knew what she was asking for, and she could suffer the consequences.