The Things Done to Me Ch. 11

Author's Note: All characters are above the age of 18. I want to thank my wife for editing and my friend Ann for her encouragement.

Today was uneventful and rainy, just as Vince had said it would be. Thank God; I needed a boring day after all that had happened. It's therapeutic. However, it would be more therapeutic if I could speak with you, Dr. Bea. I just feel like you help me put things in perspective... like feeling guilty over enjoying a perfectly uneventful rainy day. What a stupid thing to feel guilty over - but here I am, wondering if I deserve it.

Sex yesterday was so intense that it left me in a subspace stupor, so Vince had me take it easy today. He touched, kissed, and held me, but nothing more than that. It's sweet how he worries about me, but at the same time, it leaves me hungry for him. The pain. The pleasure. The possessiveness of his arms around my body. The gravel in his voice. The scent of his sweat mixed with mine. I don't mean to be so poetic...I guess I'm still drunk off of those moments. Maybe a day away is a good thing; I wouldn't want to become stuck there.

Demi Tanzer was almost apologetic today during our design session. Almost. I get the feeling she's the type that never apologizes for anything that she meant in the heat of the moment, so that's really the best that I could hope for. She's a scary-intense individual - passionate beyond what is reasonable. However, we're working well together.

I suggest lace collars and cuffs; she counters with a white leather body harness with removable silk sheets that hang off the harness. I talk about lacy teddies worn underneath a dress, peeking out from the sides and around the chest. She quickly sketches a latex dress that would work with lace worn underneath - or with nothing underneath if the bride is daring enough. We're turning wedding dress design on its head, and the results are elegant, sexy, and surprisingly understated despite their radical nature. I can't help but think that somewhere, in all the designs we're discussing, we're designing my wedding dress... or collaring dress. Whichever comes first.

Vince told me he's helping clean up what's left of Dr. Krysolov's presence here in the states. So far, twenty-nine American women have been found and rescued from his operation. He tells me that barely scratches the surface. There may be hundreds of missing women found due to my experience. I find that gratifying.

What I stumbled on was a new angle to their operations. The idea of tricking women to prep themselves for brainwashing and willingly hand themselves over to their kidnappers is... dark. However, they've been operating for years before they implemented this new strategy. Many wealthy, powerful men will be caught up in this - both domestic and foreign. Vince also mumbled something about a movie star or singer. I'm honestly afraid to know who he could be referring to.

Vince said that he's working on a strategy to address my problems with daddy-dearest. When I asked him what exactly he was going to do, he just glared at me. I told him not to get into trouble, and he raised an eyebrow. I just hope that my former-hacker boyfriend knows what he's doing.

And, on top of all of this, the COVID pandemic is raging in the background. Hospitals are filling up, and half of the country doesn't believe it's a problem. Idiots. I can't turn on the TV without hearing about morgue trailers and the lack of testing kits. I hope you're okay, Dr. Bea; I've only seen you a handful of times, but talking to you has helped me. I miss you.

_____________

Vince sat back at his industrial black metal desk, surrounded by three back-lit high-end monitors. It looked more like a cockpit than a desk, with an integrated chair that included a split Dvorak keyboard and trackball mouse on armatures that could be swung out of the way when not needed.

Vince wore a pair of orange-tinted glasses, a button-down white shirt, and a straight black tie. The webcam pointed at him wouldn't catch the jeans he wore or bare feet. He was professional enough for anyone who might want to video chat from Teleigence without having to wear a full suit.

With a single keystroke, the image of Jeremiah Winther filled the central screen.

"Hi, dad!" Vince taunted.

"I'm not your uncle, and I'm most certainly not your dad. What is it you want, Vincent?" Jeremiah said.

"Seeing as I want to marry your daughter, I thought I'd try it out. You're right, Jerry - I don't respect you enough to call you dad," He snapped back.

"Did you just call me to insult me?"

"No - I wanted to talk to you about the conversation Mark had with Sephie. Hurling insults at you is just a bonus."

Jeremiah rolled his eyes. "I've talked to Mark about that conversation. It's a shame how twisted you have her. You can be sure that I'll pry her from your grasp."

"Oh? You talked. He didn't show you a video of exactly what was said?" Vince asked.

"No. Why would he have -"

"I have video," Vince interrupted Jeremiah.

He squinted at Vince and sneered. "Fine. Show me."

Vince hit a key, and a split-screen, displaying Persephone's and Marks webcam feeds side by side, started playing on his left-hand monitor. He muted the sound on his end but heard the discussion play out on Jeremiah's computer speakers. Vince watched as Jeremiah's eyes widened, and his expression changed from disgust to rage.

Both men sat through the video in silence. Once it ended, Jeremiah glared back at Vince and asked. "How do I know this video isn't one of those deep-fakes they're talking about these days?"

"I guess you don't. I'm not going to waste my time pointing out how hard it would be to fake a video like this. You're going to believe what you want to believe regardless of the facts." Vince said.

"Regardless of this... video, I still don't want you with my daughter. I can't imagine the perverted things you do to her," he sneered.

"You don't need to imagine - you can ask Sephie yourself. But I want the honors of telling you the most perverse thing I do to her. Want to know the most horrible, awful thing I do? It's letting her choose for herself," Vince said with a wicked smile.

"What do you mean, you let her choose for herself?"

"Before I first touched her, I gave Sephie a list of every kinky thing I could do to her; she noted which kinks she would never consent to and which she enthusiastically wanted to try. She has a safeword that she can use to make me stop everything. And after every time we have sex, we talk about the perverted things I did to her, so she can tell me what she did or didn't like," Vince explained.

"You're disgusting," Jeremiah spat.

"Would you like to hear the disgusting things Sephie said about what I did to her this past Tuesday?" he retorted.

"You probably treat her like a slave."

"I will admit that she washes me every morning after my workout - but that's something she wants to do. I cook her meals, clean the kitchen and do the laundry. Sephie takes care of the rest of the apartment. But if she ever wanted to be treated like a slave, I would be glad to do so - it just isn't one of her kinks," Vince said with a smile.

Jeremiah studied Vince and snorted. "I'll know soon enough if you're abusing her."

"Oh - are you talking about that private investigator you hired, Jerry? You should know that his wife almost caused Persephone a panic attack in the middle of the grocery store. Did you know he's done work for known criminal and domestic terrorist organizations? He's also been a person of interest in a string of murder investigations in another state. Did you check into his background before you hired this guy?"

Jeremiah blanched. "He came highly recommended by a friend that I trust."

"You really have to reexamine your friendships. That's okay, though - he and his wife won't be bothering either of us ever again. Before I called you, I hacked every computer he owns that connects to the internet and downloaded some very incriminating files from his computer. You put Sephie in danger by hiring him; let's just say I've removed the threat," Vince snarled.

"You've always been an arrogant little shit," Jeremiah spat back at him.

"And you're a sexist asshole, Jerry. You have very little respect for your own daughter's wishes or the opinions of your own wife. But if you ever want to meet your grandchildren, I suggest you start treating her like an adult and honoring her choices."

"And if she wanted to leave you, would you honor her choice?"

Vince smiled. "If it's truly her choice and not due to some bullshit ploy of yours? I'd let her go - but only after begging her to reconsider."

Jeremiah clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He hit a key, and the screen went blank.

"Well, goodbye to you too, Jerry," Vince said to the blank screen.

_____________

Persephone grunted as she did leg reps on Vince's home gym. She took off yesterday from working out, so she wanted to double her effort today. Sweat poured from her, covering her nearly naked body and dripping off of her. In between reps, she could hear Vince still talking. "What are you still doing in there?" she said under her breath. She did one last rep and then stood up.

She could still hear mumbling on the other side of the wall. All that stood between her and sex with her Master was that door, and yet she knew the rules: unless it was an emergency, she wasn't to open the door when he was working. He dealt with far too much sensitive data for her to be casually entering his office.

With a pout, she walked back into their bedroom. As she turned the corner to the bathroom, she stubbed her toe on the large leather trunk that Victor called his toy chest. Persephone cocked her head to the side and replayed in her mind all the times he had opened the chest. A wicked smile crossed her lips as she bent down and tried to find the mechanism to give her access to the toys.

She felt around the back of the truck and felt something odd. With a click, Vince's toy chest unlocked. She lifted the lid and gasped. A wave of regret overtook her as she realized that she just ruined several surprises that he was holding back.

"Too late now," she mumbled. Then an idea popped into her head. She took several different items from the trunk and threw them on the bed. "Friday night self-punishment," she said. Without a second thought, she stripped off her underwear and ran into the bathroom to shower off. Then she came back in and prepared herself for when Vince came walking through the bedroom door.

When he did come through the door, she noticed his eyes shift first to her, then to his open trunk. She nervously bounced, waiting for his reaction. "Bad Kitty, indeed," he frowned.

Persephone knelt in the center of the bed, wearing cat ears and a cat tail buttplug. She had written in lipstick on her stomach the words "Bad Kitty," above which a chain hung between two nipple clamps. A red ball gag was in her mouth, and a pair of handcuffs kept her arms behind her back. She made herself into a pretty package, ready for her due punishment.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Someone figured out how to open my trunk. Apparently, she felt so guilty about it that she tied herself up for my enjoyment," Vince shook his head.

Persephone nodded enthusiastically and then looked down in mock shame.

"You know, if I really wanted to punish you, I could just walk out this door and watch a movie without you. A comedy? Or maybe a porno and just masturbate while you writhe in here all alone," he suggested.

She quickly shook her head and whimpered with genuine disappointment.

"No? Then what should I do to you? How should I punish you?"

As if to answer his question, she flopped down on the bed and raised her ass in the air.

"A spanking? A fucking? I think that's more of a treat than a punishment," Vince said. "No. I think it's time you learned a thing or two about self-control."

Persephone whined in response and tried to get back up on her knees. Vince walked over and pulled her up by her shoulder. With a sigh, he unbuckled the strap to her ballgag and let it fall to the bed.

"Why did you do that?" she said after she stretched her jaw.

"Because we haven't talked about safety protocol for ballgags. The first and most important rule is never to do what you just did. If I don't know you're bound and gagged and there is an emergency, the consequences could be dire," he stated.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was sexy, so -"

"The other problem with ballgags," Vince interrupted, "is that I can't hear you use safewords. When we use ballgags, we need another way for us to communicate if there is a problem." He took off his tie and paced around. "The fact that you didn't think of that is exactly why I don't want you to have free access to my toy chest."

"But I trust you, and I knew you'd -"

"What? Have a solution? Not take advantage of the situation? It's not just me I'm worried about, Sephie. If you should ever change your mind and want to play with other Doms or decide to leave me, I would still want you to be safe. I want you to know the right way to do things, so you don't end up hurt," he said.

"I would never leave you," Persephone said.

"I'm not going to hold you to that," Vince replied.

"You don't have to; you own me."

Vince glared at Persephone. "I just spoke with your father. He asked me whether I would let you leave if you wanted to. I said I would, and I meant it."

"And I just told you that I would never leave you. I meant it." Tears filled Persephone's eyes. "This was meant to be cute and sexy and sweet, but instead, you lecture me and bring up the specter of us being apart? Are you stupid, Vince?"

"Damn it, Sephie, I'm -"

"Use me," she said as tears trickled down her cheeks. "Fuck me. Humiliate me. Hurt me. I'm yours. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Sephie," he uttered. Vince embraced her, held her head against his chest, and stroked her hair. "I love you. It is sexy and sweet."

"Well? Are you going to apologize?" she asked.

"No. I'm not wrong." His voice took a cool edge that sent shivers down Persephone's spine. He picked up the ballgag and pressed it against her lips.

"Wait!" she said.

"Open," he demanded.

Her eyes teared back up as it dawned on her that he was upset with her - not just play-acting. She opened her mouth obediently and accepted the ballgag, which he then tightly secured.

"Anytime," Vince said as he walked to the toy chest, "you are gagged or otherwise made unable to speak, you should have some form of communication made available to you." He pulled a red silk handkerchief from the toy chest and then shut its lid. "Do you understand?"

Persephone nodded.

"I'm going to put this into your hand. Releasing the cloth, whether intentional or not, is the same as saying your safeword. Do you understand?"

Again, Persephone nodded and added a whimper. He balled up the fabric and pushed it into her hand.

"Now, there are two ways this can go. You can drop the handkerchief, and I'll release you. Or, you can stay as you are and try to get me up and get me off without using your mouth or hands. Either way, you won't be allowed to orgasm, and you're sleeping on the sofa tonight," he stated.

'My first real punishment,' Persephone thought to herself. 'I'm sorry, Sir.' Tears began to fill her eyes.

"Sephie, no amount of tears is going to change my mind. So what is it going to be?" he asked.

She bent over and nuzzled the crotch of his jeans as a single tear rolled down her face. He ran his fingers through her hair and muttered, "My sad, bad kitty." She looked up at Vince, who then unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out through the opening. Then he put his hands behind his back.

Persephone rubbed her spit-covered ballgag and tear-covered cheeks over his cock and sack in an attempt to get him as wet as possible. His cock twitched and pulsed on her face; the scent of his sweat filled her nostrils. She asked herself if she could stoop any lower for his pleasure; a trickle of her juices inching its way along her sex answered that she could and would.

She moaned as his cock bobbed higher. "My precious pet slut," he cooed. "You have no idea what you do to me."

As if to answer him, she looked up at him and nuzzled his sack. She felt utterly and deliciously humiliated. He was everything to her at that moment, and her pride and dignity meant nothing to her. The thought of being so entirely owned by him made her shudder as her sex buzzed with pleasure.

Vince smiled and gazed down at her. "You look so sexy like that," he said as he stepped away from her. Persephone moaned and ground against the air. "Don't be so disappointed. I'm not going far." He walked around the bed and laid down with his hands behind his head. "Go ahead."

Persephone groaned as she understood he didn't intend to help her. She slowly maneuvered to straddle Vince's legs and then shimmied up his body so that her sex slid over his length. She sighed through her nose as she rocked on the underside of his cock. His firmness between the lips of her sex felt like warm silk. She angled her hips so his head was at her entrance, then she slowly slid down his cock, one inch, then back up half an inch.

Vince moaned. "Tease," he said with a smile. She slid down another inch and back up his length by half an inch. "If you fuck me like that, we'll be here all day."

Persephone responded with a glare, which made Vince laugh. "Fine, fine - you're on top. You control the action." She nodded and slid down his shaft painfully slowly just to prove her point.

When she finally hit the root of his cock, he moaned. The teeth of his pants zipper dug into her sex, robbing her of her pleasure. She wiggled her hips in an attempt to savor the twin fullness of him deep and the buttplug inside her. Then she leaned forward to grind her clit into the fabric of his jeans, but the zipper bit into her flesh instead. She whimpered in frustration.

'That's no fair!' she thought. 'If Master's going to leave me wanting, I should at least get to enjoy being edged!'

As if he knew what she was thinking, he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them further down his body, leaving his silk boxers exposed to her.

'He does love me!' She ground her clit into his silk boxers, and her shoulders dropped as a wave of pleasure rippled through her.

"Don't think that was for you. I wanted you to feel the zipper," Vince smirked. "Of course, that would also have meant I would have felt it, and I wasn't too keen on that."

'Asshole.'

"I know what that look means," he chuckled.

Persephone rocked on him slowly while he laid back. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt while he watched her undulate on his cock. She never had the chance to demonstrate to Vince what a beautifully slow fuck she was. He had always taken her forcefully. Now she could milk his cock, sway in front of him, and put all those years of gymnastics to use. She wanted to please him as she'd never done before - not for her boyfriends and not for her ex-husband.

"You look beautiful," he groaned. "I'm going to ask you to dance for me more often. So fucking sexy," he said.

Vince reached out, hooked the chain spanning her chest, and gently tugged. The shot of pain traveled her body and bloomed as pleasure between her thighs. She moaned and doubled her speed.

"So that's how I get you to go faster," Vince said as his breath quickened. He tugged at the chain linking her nipple clamps again, and she started slamming herself down on his cock. She saw his eyes roll up in his head. "Oh fuck, that's good," he said as he thrust back against her.

Then she stopped and gyrated on his cock. 'Not so fast, Master.'

"You fucking tease. You are such a bad kitty. I might have to punish you again tomorrow," he threatened.