The Bookstore Ch. 06

Marie's face crumpled. A sob caught in her throat as she threw herself forward, frantically kissing the tops of his feet, as he'd made her do last night. "Please don't make me leave you, Master!" she cried. "I'll do better, I promise!"

He grabbed her hair and pulled her upright. "Calm down, princess," he said, his tone showing some of his exasperation. "I wasn't planning to kick you out. I just meant that we have some training to do."

Her tears dried as if by magic. "Oh," she whispered, embarrassed. He released her hair and she settled back into her kneeling position. He shook his head, bemused. She was certainly a handful, for a girl so naturally inclined to submission.

"As I was saying, we need to work on this. Do you agree, princess?" It was a subtle hint but she caught on right away.

"Yes, Master," she breathed, "please teach me to obey you better."

"Very good," he approved, and she felt her heart swell with the praise. "Now," he went on, "spread your pussy for me, princess."

She'd thought she was ready for this, but Marie swallowed hard. Jesus, how could he say things like that to her and expect her to respond with equanimity? Tentatively she moved one trembling hand around to her pussy and used her thumb and fingers to pull her lips out and up, just as he had last night when he was torturing her with the vibrator. Her heart pounded and her breath came in little gasps.

"Good. Now, use your other hand to rub your clit." He saw her eyes go wide and waited.

Marie brought her other hand forward, but then she froze. She'd never touched herself in front of someone before. She'd thought peeing in front of him was bad, but this was much worse, much more private. But she couldn't fail him again—she just had to make herself do it. Good God, she'd probably already waited too long. Biting her lip nervously, she brought her middle finger to her clit and started to strum it lightly. Within seconds her hips were straining to roll, beginning a familiar rhythm, and Marie fought panic as she wondered how long he'd make her do this.

"Good," he said again. "Now keep that up. I don't care how fast or slow you do it, but I want to see your hand moving. And keep yourself well spread so I can see."

Marie moaned, moving her fingers as slowly as she dared, feeling her clit growing impossibly hard already. Her nipples, too, were hard as diamonds, and her face flamed as she imagined what she must look like to him.

He had turned back to the table for a moment, and now he held a deliciously fragrant bit of omelet to her lips. She took it carefully, concentrating on continuing to masturbate while she chewed and swallowed. Her empty stomach contracted, wanting more. He took a bite himself, then fed her another one. He repeated this a few more times, watching her carefully. When her hand started to speed up without her seeming to realize it, he ordered, "Stop." With a cry of distress, she did as she was told, her slippery fingers poised above her aching clit. "Now finger yourself," he said.

It was supremely challenging for Marie not to touch her clit now, when she was dying to rub the heel of her hand against it, at the very least. But the new sensations as she finger fucked herself started to take over, even as she mechanically ate the bites of breakfast he fed her, and even drank some orange juice as he held the glass for her. "What a hungry little slut," he commented, and when she just groaned in humiliation he reached out to pinch one of her nipples. "Aren't you?" he added, hinting.

"Yes, Sir, I'm a hungry slut," she choked out, breathing hard.

When the plate was empty, he looked significantly down at her thighs and said, "Open."

Marie looked down and gasped, hurriedly spreading her thighs again. She hadn't even realized they had been inching closer together, making it easier for her to buck her hips as she humped her own hand. Her face felt hot, but she knew the shame was contributing to the incredible desire she felt.

"Now your clit again, princess."

Panting and whimpering, Marie did as he said, her eyes closing, her face a mask of lust. She had risen up on her knees, her pelvis thrusting obscenely.

"Stop."

Marie's eyes flew open, her hand frozen in mid-stroke.

His gaze bore into her. "Did I tell you to close your eyes?"

She wanted to hang her head in shame but didn't dare move. "No, Sir," she whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry."

He drew up a chair and sat directly in front of her. He reached down and batted her hand away from her pussy, then roughly shoved three of his fingers inside her. With his free hand he seized her hair and jerked her head back. He leaned into her face. "You...will...learn," he said, softly.

Marie's heart pounded. She never felt more like his property than when he had her like this, painfully impaled, held motionless and mesmerized by his fierce eyes. A helpless little sound came from her throat.

Hearing her whimper, and seeing the way her body arched instinctively to try to escape the intrusion in her pussy, he had an idea. One more little game, he thought, then he'd get the day started. Still staring into her eyes, he ordered, "Now fuck me."

He watched her eyes widen and her face heat as she took his meaning. "That's right," he went on. "Fuck yourself on my fingers, princess... just like a little slut who can't help herself." He felt her pussy clench in reaction to the humiliation and he smiled inwardly. It was a predictable response, but with her these reactions were so new, so primitive. She still had no idea what she was, what she needed. Yes, he thought to himself as she began to grind herself up and down on his hand, grunting as she accommodated the width of his fingers, I've got a treasure here.