Page 110 of Swallow Your Sorries

“If they know what’s good for them.”

I reach for her again and she shoves me back with surprising force, though I don’t budge.

“Rule number two,” she holds up a finger. “You can’t just tear my clothes off whenever the hell you want.”

“You liked it in stretch class when I tore your tights. I can still feel your pussy squeezing my fingers and pulling me in deeper.”

“Gant—”

“No. Pick another rule. Dolls can’t stop their owners from undressing them anywhere. From doing whatever whenever they want. But you still have some control. I’ll give you a safe word if I’m toying with you too hard.”

She pauses, a curious look drifting across her features.“What word?”

I eye her hair. “You say crimson and I’ll stop. That’s my compromise.”

To my surprise, she doesn’t fight me. She’s too busy fighting herself internally because once again there’s excitement in her eyes.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Cute.”

“Cute?” She wrinkles her brow.

“Cute that you’d think I need one for anything you’d do to me. That you’d think I’d ever want you to stop.”

There it is, that spark igniting in her eyes again.

“Now, if you don’t want me to finish destroying every single piece of clothing you own, take the rest off and I promise not to touch you with my hands,” I say, holding them up. “In fact,” I grab the sash that just bound Sylo’s wrists to the table. “You can bind them for insurance. Tonight, I just want to look.”

“I’m not hurt anywhere else,” she insists.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Take it off.Everythingthis time.”

She hesitates before lunging forward and grabbing the sash from me as if she’s scared I’m going to tie her up instead.

One day.

I patiently let her bind my wrist tightly, watching as she knots the ends with fumbling fingers.

“Well?” I say when she just stands there.

My heart accelerates despite her slow speed of removing the school’s blazer and then her torn blouse. But then my patience wanes as she just stands there again, frozen.

“Take off the bra. I said, " I want to seeallof you.”

I think she’s going to protest, but then she obliges, keeping her shoulders stiff. But her tongue wets her lips as if waiting for me to lean forward and kiss them. Instinctively, I follow the motion, wetting my own as blood surges to my cock. Her eyes dart there for a brief second too before she’s looking anywhere else but at me.

When she gets rid of the thin, cotton bra, her nipples are covered by her blazing hair.

“Move your hair out of the way,” I say, circling her and she obliges, drawing her long ponytail up into a bun. I’m mesmerised by the motion, then by her tits that’s been haunting my dreams for weeks.

Besides the angry burn and a light spattering of faint freckles, her pale skin is smooth everywhere else, unmarred and untouched. Maybe that’s why the burn’s fucking with my head too. Just knowing that someone’s touched her bare skin somewhere, anywhere, makes my blood boil.

Stepping closer, I watch the rise and swell of her breasts for an eternity and as I do, I can feel her insecurities start to creep.

Her arms twitch, moving as if to cross them over her breasts, and something in me goes feral.

“Keep them down, or I’ll rip off this sash and bind you instead.”

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