Dominated Heir 2 Ch. 04

there is an unwanted sex machine usage here, but sexy times way at the end, just the heir being his asshole self for fun.

Who the fuck was Geralt?

That had been my second concern to the strange machine with a long leg, motor, and dildo that the Master went around behind me with. Why couldn't the tormenting part be over with?

"Please, Master." The words caught in my throat, unable to come out louder than a whisper.

"Yes, slave?"

The metalic noises had me obliviously moving my feet. Things between us had progressed so well. This show in front of another man couldn't happen.

"Please." My mouth felt dry and sticky. How would my mom handle this? She was good at straight out lying to get what she wanted. I'd seen it plenty of times. And I even knew the expressions that men seemed too dumb to know. "Please. I only want to ever be touched or seen like this by you."

The sounds behind me continued, but he didn't immediately speak. If only I had some clue of his emotions. How better to regain control of this.

I received my answer with a prod and zap to my inner thigh. "Reposition to exactly how you were while delighting about me impregnating you."

"Yes, Master," I replied, lost in my attempt to figure out what I'd done wrong. One month. That would become my mantra. Soon enough, I would have him won over, though. The human side, which I knew I'd glimpsed, would come through and the misery he loved inflicting would end.

Thankfully he didn't have any mirrors located in front of me yet to see my loathing of his tormenting words. Even through my squint and repressed sigh, I forced my sore body to position as he ordered.

Something created pressure as it slid into me, finding its spot near my mostly numbed cervix. He actually intended to do this. To torture my core by increasing the depth he could fuck me.

The unnerving calm in his words took hold once again. "I need to go. Don't move. This would be uncomfortable if it tipped sideways while inside you."

***

That asshole may have given me the best orgasm of my life earlier in the day, but then he crashed any joy he'd brought to me. He didn't even bother cleaning me up of the fluid that seeped down my leg. And it felt like far too torturously long before one of the moving redecorating men came. Geralt, I had to assume. And he'd been the most gorgeous of them once dressed nicely in a tight, gray long-sleeved shirt and ass-fitting jeans. Dark short but messy hair and light eyes added to his appealing features. Mid twenties at most.

The attractive bastard had a tool kit and busied himself behind me at my feet. I couldn't help but think back on the story of my mom's dead lover letting one of his colleagues fuck her publicly as punishment for a late dinner. Worse, she also allowed it.

I still remembered the way this man had watched me. The way he'd wanted me as I hung from bound wrists with my legs spread wide in front of him. And now I could only imagine what he might be staring at as he snapped something hard onto each ankle. I doubted he had any interest in the fluid leaking down my leg.

And where had the fucking Master gone off to to leave me here with this man who'd shown attraction to me? Shouldn't he remain to make sure nothing happened? He hadn't even answered when I asked that only he got to touch me.

The other two men I knew to work for the Master entered. They carried large mirrors and got to work setting those to the entry side wall. Two spoke to each other in a language I believed to be German. And I couldn't help but think it probably had to do with vulgarity toward my nudity.

I feared punishment too much to acknowledge them. I didn't even make eye contact. But that changed the moment the man behind me touched the area of my folds around where the dildo inserted into me.

He already had my ankles trapped, but I still tried to twist. For the least I knew, this could have been a test of whether or not I would silently let other men touch me. "Don't touch me there."

The room went silent. The other two men both said something in German and chuckled.

I may have tolerated a lot so far, but to be touched in that area wouldn't have been allowed by the possessive heir. The wealthy Master wouldn't mind him moving that fucking machine, but not touching me back there in such a way.

One of the other men briskly stepped from my peripheral view.

At that point, I panicked with futile attempts to free my wrists and collar from the baluster. I couldn't escape. I knew that, but still I tried. A smack landed hard on my backside. The bastard spanked me! I wasn't his to touch.

"Don't fucking touch me again!" I bucked my backside as much as I could--which proved extremely uncomfortable with the dildo lodged in me.

Now the other man lowered his tools by the mirror and disappeared from sight. He returned quickly with one of the white packages, ripping the wrapping. Those had been mine to open. Not that I actually wanted any of the gifts, but it didn't seem like a behavior the heir would accept.

The burly male tossed down the box, revealing a black circular metal ring with red straps that matched my collar, wrist cuffs, and strappy harness. As he came close to my face with the mouth-opening gag held out, I really began to thrash at the collar.

"No, no..." Oh god, what was happening to me? How had I allowed myself into this position to have this stranger readdying to put a gag in my mouth designed for blow jobs? None of it even made sense to me anymore. The jealous heir hadn't led me to believe in the possibility of this cruelty.

The large male had a terrifying bite to his accent. "When your Master is not here, we are your keepers."

I still tried to fight the way he grabbed my face with one hand and opened my jaw to force the ring into my mouth. "Ngggg." I could say no more, but only grunt as it found a home while spreading my teeth.

He squatted in front of me, adjusting it. "You will be well trained."

I had the desire to behave like a rabid animal, but the despair of accepting a fate of these three men using my mouth as a playground for their cocks.

The man connected the straps around my head and tightened it. "No cream, Geralt."

The dildo pulled from inside me, and I could hear the clanging of metal and drilling behind me as something was quickly being put together.

Cream? What was meant by cream? And why was that area of my body now accessible?

I grumbled my hatred and refusal to the man, but it only came out in pathetic grunts.

"You are a bad slave," the man in front of me said, reaching back to dig something else out of the box. Whatever he pulled out was black. Before I got a good look, it was shoved into the ring in my mouth like a short stubby cock that didn't quite reach my throat, but lessened the amount of air I should have easily breathed.

The ridiculously handsome man who'd touched me from behind, spoke next. "Just relax and this will be easier and less uncomfortable." A cold item prodded my back entry.

Uncomfortable? Everything about this was violating and outrageously uncomfortable. Any failing protest rapidly dissolved into the sort of despair that left me feeling broken.

This Geralt had no accent, and a nicer voice than the other two men. That didn't make him likeable, though. "This is just a part of the billionaire wives club."

I was no one's wife. Certainly not to the egotistical prick who'd tricked me into being attached to this baluster and further violated and humiliated. And the bastard would know how much I hated him the moment he returned.

"Don't speak to slaves." The one in front of me grumbled as he rose, horrifying me with his closeness at my side before he grabbed a nipple ungently.

"I'm about to add it again," Geralt said.

Then I felt the hardness of the dildo insert into my core. A hum accompanied it penetrating and a pressure to my rear hole before both pulled back. Like a fucking machine that went uncomfortably deep to my cervix, but my core had been numbed so the ache wouldn't be felt.

The Master mentioned me being able to handle his full length. He just meant I'd be fucked by a machine until my organs were repositioned. He'd ordered this to happen so I would be presentable by Thanksgiving. And all after he'd earlier tricked me and pretended to be nice to me.

The sharp pain to my breast caused a jolt. Then a harsh tug that pulled my chest forward toward the baluster. The German was fast, reaching for the other nipple to do the same. Not that I could take as deep of breaths as I would have liked, but even breathing created an uncomfortable pinch as it pulled at my breasts.

Then as I struggled to handle every shocking thing happening to me, the men went back to their work. Geralt remained behind me, drilling something.

These weren't people who would do work for the bastard heir and leave my life. They were permitted to touch and punish me--even mentioning their power over me.

And what the fuck was a billionaire wives club? More of the heir's taunting, most likely. No sane woman would ever tolerate him enough to marry him. My mother tolerated plenty from men, but even this jerk, no matter how wealthy, wouldn't be worthy.

CH 5 return

My loathing for the self-proclaimed Master only increased by every passing second of discomfort as the dildos rapidly thrust into me. So long I had to endure without deep breaths and attempting to angle just right so the dildos were the least uncomfortable. Even then, as the numbing cream slowly wore off, there was no possibility of minimal comfort.

The three men never left. They continued their busy work or sat at the sadistic breeding table within my view. Sometimes they even chuckled while speaking a foreign language and flicking glances my way.

The sun may still have been up when the door clicked open and the Master entered into my view, but it felt like slow, hellish lifetimes had passed. And he would never be forgiven for what he'd done to me. Not in ten thousand years. Not even after I received my degree. He owed me something, not the other way around.

He looked at me first, then to the packaging opened on the floor. Another white bag with puffs of tissue was cradled in his arm, adding more terror. Not a single nice thing had come from those gifts.

At least he was quick to lower the package and come over, pulling the black thing that filled my mouth. The thing I feared him doing involved his cock replacing it. Instead, he removed the gag completely, creating another ache as my jaw closed. As he did, he said, "I see you talked Geralt into opening a few presents early."

He returned upright and went around to where the machine continued its invasive pumping.

If only my mouth didn't hurt unbearably. I could speak my mind to him. I could tell him how much I hated him, but not through the chattering of my teeth.

From behind my trembling backside, he muttered, "I was trying to make sure you had a few gifts to open every single day." His tone held excessive disappointment. He turned off the machine and pulled it backward, freeing the two dildos.

There were a lot of thoughts I'd had over my miserable passage of time. But those men had power over me. What would they do to me once he left again?

The odd bars that were like stocks at my ankles freed my feet. "God, I wish I had the stamina to fuck this pussy again."

And I was beyond thankful he couldn't. My jaw trembled as I attempted to open it, but only a cry escaped me. One that hurt because of the clamps that tugged my breasts.

"Let's get you out of here." He came back around in what must have been a sick joy at my absolute horror, given how slow he worked.

Maybe my glare affected him, because his head tilted to the side with a sincere expression of concern. "Sweetheart, are you mad at me? I came back as quick as I could." He freed one of my wrists, taking my hand in his in a squeeze lovers might share.

I jerked it away. Even that use of muscle caused discomfort.

He then continued with the other cuff, and finally the massive padlock at the collar. "If it had been Vlad or Ivan in charge of your discipline instead of Geralt, I assure you, this would have been worse. And I didn't want that."

At this point in his absurd speech, I couldn't help but sob. Even when he helped me up onto wabbly legs that wouldn't support me. But the pat he placed to my back received a my hard return slap that he caught with a firm hold.

Terror filled me at the darkness that overtook his features. He could put me back on that torturing post. He could do worse if he wanted.

"I'm going to let that slide this one time. You're going to get cleaned up." His tone turned harsh, as did his glower. "But you won't get to sit on my lap. Nor will you get dessert, and you certainly won't get to be anywhere but your cage after our meal together."

Words hurt to speak. I'd somewhat managed some control of this situation before he turned angry and let them be in charge of me. "You..." My lips trembled, unable to properly speak. "Let them hurt me."

"No, slave. They're merely providing you proper guidance while I am unavailable. Now then..." He had the nerve to hug me, but I rathered twist to escape him than dare lower myself to embrace him in return. "Didn't we have a good morning together?"

He awaited my answer, but I wouldn't reply. "Sweetheart?"

I wanted to snap. I needed to. My teeth chattered when I gritted them and my exposed chest heaved. "I am not your sweetheart!" So what if he punished me. I could give a fuck less.

I turned in an attempt to bolt from him, only then realizing the pain of attempting to walk and support myself. My legs would have collapsed from beneath me. They buckled, but he caught me and pulled me close before a hard crash to the floor.

I didn't want to be held by him. Even if I fell and had to crawl, it would be better than letting myself be degraded and accept what he'd done to me. My arms were so sore when I attempted to hit his chest to break free, it felt like they were weights with no momentum behind them.

He turned us both so he could sink onto the chaise with me in his clutches, pulled onto his lap. The insincerity smeared over his feigned concern made me hate him all the worse.

"My mom dragged me through dirt so she could be with assholes who weren't half as evil as you." The words were muttered as I gave up on fighting him.

The long silence following my declaration was a tormenting one. It dragged on, eating at me. I didn't want to be treated this way for another minute.

"You win." I felt everything within me break as those words came out without my own thoughts to agree. But he'd won. Now I just wanted out. "I don't care what I lose, I just want to be away from you." Another month wasn't worth this. Another hour wasn't. I hadn't even survived a few days, there would be no way I could survive a month.

"I'm sorry, slave." His arms curled tighter around me in a despicable embrace. "I was too proud." The words were spoken low.

Every asshole in history waited until the end to apologize. And now he did as well. And there wouldn't be an ounce of truth to it.

He pulled me even tighter to his chest. "I didn't know they would do that to you, and I won't let it happen again."

If I had the strength, I would have freed myself from him. Instead, my muscles gave up. "I hate you."

Ch 6 Master POV

Master

There were times for punishment and times for comfort. Did my little slave deserve punishment? Without a doubt she did. And a painful lashing, in truth. But discipline would do her no good while she lingered in this state of heightened emotion.

Holding her in such a coddling way felt nice, even endearing as her fragility burst free. As those bitchy walls of arrogance shattered into ruins.

"Never again," I cupped her head, forcing her to look at me through strands of unruly, tear-wettened hair. I meant it. The men weren't used to a woman like her. They were used to the women who went to the clubs in search of someone to humiliate them.

This little prize nestled on my lap was nothing like that. She didn't know how much she would love submitting to me.

She began to sob again. Okay, it was becoming annoying the extent to which crying brought her comfort. I'd only been in the presence of one crying woman. My mother, who'd cried many times before she left. The expression of such emotion filled me with unease.

"No more crying and overreacting," I chided, firm but still kind. "I brought us a nice dinner to enjoy together, little slave."

The way her teeth bared and a crease formed at her brow suggested a fight remained within her. "Fuck. You." The words came out in a surprisingly strong growl. Tears still dribbled down her wet cheeks. "Just let me go." The last words were more of a request than an order.

I had the video evidence that ensured she couldn't claim kidnapping or assault, so there were no legal ramifications to her leaving. But I had no desire to let her go--ever. She placed value on so few things, reigning this in would be difficult. Aside from her education, I only knew of one other thing that mattered.

"Letting you go means I cut your mother completely from receiving anything of value from my father's estate." My arms around her loosened. "Shall I kick her out of his home before Thanksgiving? She doesn't even have a car or anything of value in her name."

Were the gold-digger instead like my mother, she would have absolutely nothing. Though, the threat to be rid of my slave's mother would be impossible, in truth, given my slave's mother latched onto my uncle who'd moved in to watch the place.

My prize's head tilted downward as much as the wide collar allowed. A yield for her, and another win for me.

"Wonderful, Sweetheart." I patted her leg. Now that the tension settled, I could take in the beauty of her still in the collar, cuffs, and strappy red harness. Even messy-haired and tear-tracked, her physical perfection lingered. "I know how much you love fettuccine alfredo with extra sauce and a side of broccoli, so we should eat before it gets too cold." I'd already learned everything that there was to know about her before my father died.

She peered upward from beneath her tilted brow. By the lingering resentment, I still wouldn't trust her to be rational enough not to stab me were she to have immediate access to a knife. Luckily, I didn't order anything requiring a sharp utensil.

"Good girl." My grip to her head switched to combing through her snarled locks of straight hair.

Leniency, I decided, would do her well in the moment. As would claiming fault for her current condition. "I hurt you, and, for that, I am sorry."

She said nothing, nor did she express any readable emotion beyond an attempt to compose herself as she refused me eye contact. A few minutes passed and I motioned for the Doms to leave when they came into view. They found my coddling quite entertaining, possibly poor management of a willful slave.

They quietly left, but not without expressing their disapproval. Now I had to play the waiting game for when she chose to accept how things would be. If anyone were to threaten my mother's contentment, I could shrug it off, but not my little slave. Her foolish concern for the hag who birthed her proved to be my only source of leverage.

"How about I let you call your mom while I set our food out?" I couldn't resist tucking my hand between her thighs. I already felt the beginnings of a swell in my aching manhood. The woman who'd spent years tormenting me still had me suffering a near full-time erection after several fuckings.

Chapter 7

Just when I thought things couldn't become worse, he threw in a sucker punch to my gut. I may have held a grudge over my mom dragging me through the dirt in her quest of asshole men, but I still loved her.