Page 15 of Cruel Master
Even through the voice changer, I can’t mistake the total certainty in that statement. It resonates deep in the sick part of my brain that gets excited by things it shouldn’t.
“You might not want this, but you need it. Your behavior just earned you two punishments. You disobeyed an order, and you spoke to me disrespectfully. Do you understand the reasons you are being punished?”
I don’t answer. There’s a moment of silence, then he pulls my ass cheeks apart and squirts cold lube between them. I cry out, more from the shock than anything else, because what the fuck? This can’t be happening. It can’t be real.
“Answer me, Juliet. You don’t want to make it three punishments.”
I gasp out a “yes,” but my mind is elsewhere because something weird is happening. The lube, which felt cold a moment ago, is heating. Stinging, even. “What—”
“Have you ever heard of figging?”
Unfortunately, I have, and my ass clenches at the very thought of it. Ginger, shoved up there? He can’t be—
“I’m not planning on doing that, but this lube is a strong second. It’s infused with ginger. It won’t damage you, but this isn’t going to be comfortable.”
“What? No. Please.” The sting is growing worse by the second. Like the burn that comes from chopping chillies bare handed, but in the worst possible place. Sweat coats my clammy skin, and when something hard and thick presses against my ass, I lose it.
“Stop it. No. You fucker. Don’t.” I squirm on the altar, but he just rests an arm on my body, stopping even the tiny bit of movement I have.
“Your time just went from twenty minutes to thirty. Say “Sorry, Master,” or it’s an hour.”
The plug presses in, and I cry out. Even without the stinging lube, the stretch would have hurt. Together, it’s enough to overwhelm my senses. There’s only the pain and me floating in it. I breathe deep, heat wrapping me, as the stretch grows unbearable. He doesn’t push the plug home but holds it still at the widest point as I let out a low moan.
“Last chance.”
I struggle to pull myself back from the floaty place. I want to argue, but the pain is a drug, and it makes the words slide out. “Sorry, Master.”
My voice is thick and fuzzy.
“Good.” He slides the plug all the way in, and there’s relief but not much of it. If anything, the sting intensifies. My ass is on fire, burning up from the inside out.
“Thirty minutes. Every time you speak disrespectfully to me, you end up right back here. Understood?”
I slur out, “Yep.”
He slaps my ass hard enough to make me yelp.
Fuck him and his fucking Master bullshit.
It’s a single clear thought in a fuzzy haze. I don’t want to say it again. Once was bad enough. But I force the words out. “Yes, Master.”
“Good.”
He places a glowing digital timer right in my field of vision. In the pitch darkness, even the dim numbers seem painfully bright, and I blink my eyes a few times to clear the spots. It’s set for thirty minutes and, at the touch of his finger, begins a slow count down.
Christ.
Fuck.
I’ll never survive.
“Take this time to consider the right way to address me. I expect a polite, deferential tone from now on. When I return, we’ll discuss your second punishment.”
ChapterSix
Hadrian
The second the door closes, I collapse against it, breathing hard. My stomach roils. That’s my Juliet in there. Squirming, strapped to the altar, suffering at my hand. My Juliet. It doesn’t feel real.
