Page 93 of Depravity

Every fibre of my being wants to tell him where to shove his demands, but I hold my tongue. I know this man likes to keep his cards close to his chest but if the rumours are true, he’s just as fucked up in the head as I am. Just as controlling, just as obsessive.

And I’ll admit, I have a perverse sense of pride in showing my wife, showing what I am capable of, because this man here has always seen me as second best when I am far from it.

I lead him through the halls, and it feels like the air is thick with anticipation.

My wife is kept in a remote part of the manor, away from the main hustle, so there’s no potential for outside disturbances to distract her from her training.

I know the maids went in this morning after I left. They made her fresh, cleaned her up, ensuring she is ready for my lunch time visit. My cock hardens at the thought of her and as I open the door, the sight leaves me breathless.

She’s tied up. Spread-eagled. Dressed in a pale pink babydoll chemise that rides high on her thighs.

Her makeup is just how I like it best; a nice bit of blush, a little eyeshadow, and big black sweeps of mascara, although I can see from the smudges that she’s been crying again. Her hair, as usual is in two neat plaits coming down to rest either side of her pert breasts.

On her chest is the white bandage, covering where I branded her. God, I can’t wait to pull it off, to fuck her with that right there, in front of my face.

Her breath hitches as we walk in and her eyes dart to Antonio. There’s a flicker of something there; fear, I guess. As if I’d ever contemplate letting another man touch her. As if I’d be that reckless.

Antonio steps closer, tilting his head and I know he’s staring between her spread legs to where those pretty crotchless panties frame the toy that’s buried in her soaked pussy. Even now, even as we stare at her I can see her hips moving, just a little, just enough. She’s riding that thing, desperate to get her release.

My poor little wife, how long has she been lying here now? Three, four hours? And not once have I let her come.

Around her neck is that jewelled collar which serves as both adornment and a tool for her training.

In the background, the sound of the television playing our sex tape on a loop fills my ears. It’s a visual symphony that serves as a constant reminder of her place, her purpose, her sole reason for existence.

Antonio's gaze flickered to the screen, and I can’t help but smirk at his reaction. He’s always presented himself as being so proper, so controlled, and here he is, witnessing the depths of my depravity in ultra-HD.

"This is what you're doing?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks upon Brynn's silent, submissive form.

I shrug back. "She's my wife," I state. "I can do with her as I choose.”

“And you’re choosing this?” He says, like he hasn’t done worse from what I’ve heard.

“You act like there’s no purpose behind it,” I bristle, “But there is, I’m turning her into a sex addict, just like we do with some of the more difficult slaves in Oblivion."

At the mention of her conditioning Brynn whimpers, a sound that’s music to my ears. With a tut of admonishment, I press the remote in my pocket, and she jerks as the collar delivers asharp shock that makes her cunt clench even harder around the vibrator.

"I'm training her," I say again.

Antonio's concern seems to shift to exasperation. "Electricity and pregnancy don't mix, Conrad."

Like I don’t know that. "I know exactly what I'm doing," I assure him. I’ve calculated every risk, every potential complication. I doubt Brynn will take many more days like this anyway, so the effort is more than worth the reward. Soon she’ll be gagging for my cock, desperate to ride me at all hours.

Antonio rolls his eyes and turns to leave. "One month, Conrad," he repeats, his voice stern as he delivers the same ultimatum Magnus gave me. "Get your house in order, or it's all over."

The door closes behind him with a definitive thud, and I’m left alone with Brynn once more. The clock is ticking, but I’m a man accustomed to pressure, to the thrill of the gamble. I’ll meet Antonio's deadline, and when I do, there’ll be no doubt that I am in control, that I hold the reins, not only to Brynn's submission but to the future of the empire that my family have built.

As I watch Brynn, silent and almost obedient, I feel a surge of satisfaction.

She is my masterpiece; a living, breathing testament to my power.

She is everything I deserve, everything I could want.

I shrug off my jacket and loosen my tie.

She whimpers as she watches me, and we both know what is coming. I stare down at her again before I clamber onto the bed.

I’ve worked hard all morning. Worked really hard. It’s time my wife had a little of my attention.

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