My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 (7 page)

I looked up at her. She was staring
down at me, her face uncertain, conflicted, like she was fighting
herself, not me. “All better?” I asked, wondering whether she had
liked my touch.

She opened her lovely mouth, although no
words escaped those full lips, lips I wanted to kiss, or better, to
have wrapped around my cock. My eyes moved to her breasts, her
nipples so hard. I wasn’t sure whether it was because of me or just
that it was cold in the room. I had purposely left the air chilled
so she would start wanting my body to warm her own. And dear Lord,
I wanted to do just that, because she was hurting me without even
laying a hand on my flesh, my cock now painfully hard.

I looked back up at her face.
Both of her cheeks were flushed, betraying her arousal. I refrained
from smiling, knowing this one reacted badly to arrogance, and if
she was a spy, I needed to tread carefully, as well as making her
fall for me, so it would be harder for her to betray me when she
went back to the Black Russian. I wondered whether I should tell
Frano of my suspicions. No, I’d keep it to myself for the moment,
because Frano would probably take her off me if I relayed what I
thought, and I couldn’t allow that to happen: she was
my
charge,
my
slave for the next
few weeks, and I wanted every one of those days.

I let go of her leg and rose to my
feet. “Stand.”

She pushed up, covering her breasts with
her arms, looking a little wobbly, but not enough to cause
problems.

“
Does your foot
hurt?”

“
A little.”

“
Can you walk on it or do
you need assistance?”

She frowned, probably not expecting
the offer of help. And she was right to be surprised, because I
normally made my slaves crawl even if they could walk.

“
Well?” I asked. “Should I
carry you or not?”

“
I can walk.”

I smiled. “You are a strong woman, I
like that. Now, follow me.” I turned and headed for the door once
more.

Footsteps followed, lighter
ones intermingling with the guards. I headed out of the room and
stopped in front of the next chamber, or more precisely a prison
cell, something that I had been forced into at the age of sixteen
after I’d cut
Padre
Michael’s manhood off.

The guard unbolted the door,
allowing me entry. The blonde woman on the bed instantly sat up.
Unlike Margarita, no, I didn’t like that name, it didn’t feel
right, but if I shortened it...
Sì
, I
would call the new slave Rita. Happy with the name change, I turned
to Rita, instructing her to sit down on the chair by the door, then
refocused on the blonde slave, who was now on her knees, something
that I had taught her to do in my presence, which I didn’t want
right now, the image of a kneeling, naked slave looking bad in
front of Rita.

“
Don’t do that, Honey,” I
said. “Please stand.”

The woman looked up, her eyes surprised,
then she slowly rose to her feet, her worried expression mixed with
excitement, her desire obvious. But, like all the other slaves
who’d fallen for me, there was a hint of fear underlying Honey’s
love, my heavy hand forever bruising her soul.

I smiled at Honey, appreciating her
beautiful body, her flesh the same color as the name I’d given her.
She was like a voluptuous sex symbol from days long gone, a sweet
Marilyn Monroe. And unlike Rita, she no longer needed to be
shackled. She wanted to be here, oh, she didn’t at first, but I’d
broken her quickly. She was a true disappointment, because she’d
given the impression she didn’t want anything to do with me on our
first meeting. Although I could tell she was attracted, all the
women were, this one had slapped me, insisting that she wasn’t
interested. But now she begged for me to fill her, her husband all
but forgotten in her need to get me into her bed, something I would
enjoy today, but not due to Honey, Rita the reason.

I walked up to Honey, knowing I wouldn’t
be seeing her after today, her sale going through, one of Frano’s
Spanish clients buying her for a considerable sum. I enveloped her
in my arms, kissing her head, the woman responding as I expected,
her arms wrapping around me tight, as if she was scared I would
leave. She was a true sub, someone who the Spaniard would enjoy
very much.

I let go of her, the woman not doing the
same. I glanced over my shoulder, the puzzled, yet curious look on
Rita’s face arousing me. I wanted to show her what a generous lover
I could be, and what I would do for her.

“
Federico,” I said to the
guard, “secure Rita in place, then leave.”

Federico pointed to the large metal
ring on the floor, which was attached to the wall by a chain. “Put
that around your waist,” he said to Rita.

Her gaze dropped to the spiky ring
lying next to the chair, her eyes widening in response. It looked
like it had come out of the middle-ages, a cruel torture device,
although it wasn’t meant to hurt, only to cause fear, the spikes
solely on the outside.

Federico placed the gun to her head.
“Do as you are told.”

She glanced at me, then reached down
and put it around her waist ever so carefully, probably weary of
pricking herself. Federico checked it was secured, then promptly
left, closing the door behind him, the bolt going across the
outside of the chamber.

I turned back to Honey, who was
talking to me, telling me she would do anything I wanted. I
believed her. I took a hold of her head and kissed her hard. The
woman melted against me, welcoming my tongue inside her mouth, the
slave shameless in front of Rita, that’s if she even noticed her,
Honey’s focus purely on me.

Her hands went to my towel, pulling it
away from my body, exposing me. I wondered what Rita was thinking,
whether she was watching me with lust or hate. I hoped it was the
first, or even both, because I didn’t want her to break as easily
as Honey had, regardless of the short time I had with
her.

I pushed Honey onto the bed. The slave
fell back with a smile, her face so happy. For a moment I felt a
twinge of guilt over her sale, because I’d never had a slave fall
so hard for me. Her declarations of love were different from the
other women, almost innocent, like a love-struck teenager who’d
fallen in love for the first time, which I found strange,
considering she was in her twenties and married.

I opened the drawer by the bed and
pulled out a condom, slipping it on, then climbed on top of Honey.
We kissed for a while as we ground against each other, then I
lowered my head to her breasts, suckling on both of them until she
was keening, begging me to fuck her.

I glanced at Rita, wanting to see her
reaction. Her face and neck were flushed, the woman’s eyes so wide,
her shock and aroused expression beautiful to see. Usually women
took longer to warm up, embarrassment making them slower to arouse,
but again, Rita wasn’t a normal woman.

I returned my concentration to Honey,
kissing down her stomach. She lifted her pelvis, an open invitation
if I ever did see one. I licked her below, the woman not tasting
like her namesake, but still sweet nonetheless. I wondered whether
it was arousing Rita more, whether she was imagining me instead of
Frano bringing her to completion. I didn’t want my cousin on her
mind, only me: my hands, my tongue, my cock, my whole body on her,
inside of her, filling her until she cried out my name.

Honey started keening again, thrusting
herself hard into my face. Her hand went to my head, the woman
taking liberties, probably because I was allowing her to do way
more than usual. But no one controlled me sexually, that was long
past. I pushed her hands away, then rose up over her.

Excitement filled her eyes. “Let me
taste you too.”

I hadn’t intended upon that,
just wanted to service her so that Rita would think I was a
generous lover, but how could a man turn down such an offer. I
pulled the condom off and climbed onto her chest. She took a hold
of my manhood and greedily sucked it in, making me groan, the woman
having learned well under my hand. I cocked my head back, enjoying
the suck and pull, and the way she tried to entice the cum out of
my body. Her tongue flicked around my shaft as she rotated it in
her mouth, the woman definitely knowing what she was doing.
Oh,
yes
,
she would please the Spaniard very much.

I started groaning as well as
thrusting, wanting to come down her throat. I heard a gasp, making
me stop, the sound coming from across the room. I opened my eyes
and looked over at Rita, who now had her hand on her pussy, the
woman definitely wanting what Honey was enjoying. Her eyes latched
onto mine, her desire now changing to horror, no doubt over being
caught. Again, I refrained from smiling, although inside I was
grinning like crazy.

I removed myself from Honey’s mouth
and kissed her, a thank you, then leaned over to get another
condom, quickly putting it on as Honey begged me to go without.
Never. I’d only gone without a condom once and that was for the
girl Frano had ruined for me.

Once the barrier was on, I positioned
myself between Honey’s legs, then plunged deep inside of her,
Honey’s cries matching mine, the woman feeling so damn exquisite. I
had learned from her that I was only the second man to have taken
her, her husband being a high school sweetheart, not something I
had wanted to hear. I targeted married women, hoping they had
experience, and that there wasn’t too much innocence to dirty. But
this one was too innocent for my liking. It almost made me consider
sending her back to her husband, to slip her out while Frano and
Alberto weren’t looking, but I knew I couldn’t do that, my job was
what it was: I was a slave groomer who made strong women into
submissive whores—like I once was.

Honey wrapped her legs around me, trying to meld us together.
It felt good, but I wondered whether Rita would feel better. I
imagined her powerful thighs locking me in place, trapping me,
squeezing me as her pussy squeezed my cock. I groaned, desperately
wanting her to take me, but I was no longer the submissive weakling
of my past, I was the master, the one who made women do as
I
pleased. And I could
never trust someone enough to be a sub again, because I knew it
would lead to unspeakable misery, like it had with the
Padre
.

I picked up my tempo, enjoying
the feeling, but not enough to come, the woman not who I wanted to
be in. I yanked her legs away from me and pulled out, then flipped
her onto
her
front. She instantly went on all fours, offering herself up to me.
I rubbed her ass, massaging the beautiful mounds, so full and ripe,
her tiny waist making them look even more inviting. I kissed one,
then the other, my eyes blurring for a moment, the acid I’d taken
finally kicking in. I smiled as I imagined touching Rita’s rear,
Honey’s voluptuous behind becoming taut before my eyes, increasing
my arousal.

“
Please, Master,” she
called out. “Take me.”

I frowned, her voice breaking the illusion
of Rita submitting to me.

“
Don’t call me Master, my
name’s Jagger,” I said to Honey, not wanting Rita to hear that
word. Oh, I would master her, but I had to do it without her
realizing it.

Honey looked over her shoulder, no doubt
surprised, especially since I’d struck her many times for calling
me anything but Master. She looked confused, unsure, as if she was
being tested and didn’t know the correct answer. I ran a hand over
her back, hoping to reassure her.

“
I hate being called
Master,” I lied. “It was Frano who insisted upon it, so please call
me Jagger.”

She stared at me, continuing to look
uncertain.

“
Truly,” I said, smiling,
“this isn’t a test, it’s me speaking, not Frano through
me.”

A hesitant smile flickered across her
face, then it settled in, the expression endearing, beautiful in
its honesty, unlike my own. “I love you,” she said, her words
unwelcome.

“
I love you too,” I lied
back without hesitation, making her eyes light up. I’d never
uttered those words to her before, never wanted to either, but
right now I wanted Rita to believe it, because once Honey was gone
I would pretend to be inconsolable, then maybe she would soften to
me, like the other women had when I’d cried for them, one of the
many ploys I used to manipulate the slaves into doing what I
wanted.

I went to enter Honey, but she turned
and grabbed me, kissing my face all over, giving me love of which I
didn’t deserve. I took a hold of her head, making her look straight
into my eyes. “I don’t want you to be sent away,” I
said.

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“
Yes,
amore
. I asked Frano if I could keep you. He
said no, that you were meant for another, but I fought him, yelled
until he relented.” I smiled. “You will be with me from now
on.”

Squealing, she wrapped her arms around my
neck and pushed me onto my back, climbing onto me. Her lips went to
mine, the woman passionately kissing me, taking my breath away. I
knew my lies were cruel, but I had a job to do and Honey was a
means to an end. She grabbed my cock and pushed it inside of her,
making me gasp. She started rocking against me, using me, loving
me, wanting me, while I let her, not something I usually did, but
then I didn’t usually tell a slave I loved them. And anyway, wasn’t
love giving yourself to another, which I was doing now.