I smirk, sliding a finger across her bottom lip before pinching it in between my thumb and forefinger.
"Ahhh, how did you manage to make it this long without someone causing you serious damage? I've only known you for one day, and already I want to paint my hands crimson with your blood. Do you know," I pause to bring my fingers about her throat, squeezing softly, not enough to restrict blood flow, but enough for her to feel the latent strength pulsing through me. "I've killed men for less. And here you are, nothing more than a fuck toy, thinking you can defy me."
Her pulse flutters against my palm; whether it's because of my words or my hand, it doesn't matter to me. Stepping back, I keep my hand in place and stare her down, not letting her even catch a whiff of movement until it's too late. With a flick of my wrist, I bring the tawse up in between her splayed legs, striking the pussy that's too wet for its own good. The smack ricochets off of the walls, punctuated by her startled cry. Tears flow down her cheeks as I bring the unforgiving leather up, again and again.
"Please." Her begging burbles up from her throat.
“You think begging is going to help you now? You think your pretty words are going to make me stop?”
These aren't fake tears. Not like earlier. Her eyes are rimmed in red as the tears don't stop. Each smack makes her buck and writhe, but my hand around her throat keeps her grounded. Her pleas don't stop. She cries and begs, spilling half-baked promises she would never want me to claim. Pulling away, I stare down at the mottled mess. Her skin is tight and puffy. Angry red stripes line her skin.
"Can you still work with this?"
Ivan shuffles over, looking up at me for a moment before bending to inspect her. His thick fingers skim over her lips, bringing a low whine from Chelsea. I ignore her as I watch, transfixed as Ivan manhandles my submissive. We've shared women before, but this time, watching him spread her pussy open to reveal her pert nub, my insides clench as my blood runs molten. He's perfunctory in his examination, but it doesn't help that she actually sighs in pleasure as he runs his fingers over her clit, making sure no delicate tissue was actually damaged. He pulls away, muttering to me in Russian that she's good to go.
Even as I take my hand away, she still sobs, little hiccuping sniffles that do nothing but harden my resolve towards her. Somehow, she managed to fly under the radar, with everyone thinking she's the perfect submissive. But perfect for whom? Obviously, she thinks Richards would be her knight in shining armor, but that doesn't explain all of it. Bending down, I grab the folder and thumb back through, pacing the floor as I read sections out loud.
"Demure, quiet, excels at her studies. Doesn't seem to attract much attention." I pause and look over at her. The tears have dried up, but sorrow is etched into every feature of her face. "Tell me. How does one go from threatening to kill another student with a knife to being a model submissive?"
When she doesn't answer right away, I lift the tawse back up, a visual reminder that obedience is the best course of action. Shaking her head, she mutters and stammers so low I can't make out what she's saying.
"What was that, my dear?"
"I don't know," she wails, louder this time. "I - I." She hangs her head, the visible white spots of her face turning as crimson as her poor, abused pussy. "I guess the school was a good fit for me after all."
I snort in derision. "And that's why you're such a good submissive right now?"
"Professor Richards thought I was."
Her words were so faint, I almost missed them, but I didn't. They pierce a part of my heart, the smallest of slivers I thought long buried.
"Well, he's not here anymore."
"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I saw him walk away with that whore, Melody?"
The pain is raw in her voice and in her face. It's as if she's grieving the man.
"But as I understand it, no promises were made? No collar was given?"
"No." She turns her head, but not before I see new tears welling in her eyes.
"I didn't see any triggers listed. No hard limits either."
"There's nothing you can do to me that hasn't already been done."
Her voice is flat, monotonous. No wonder she isn't scared of me. She has her own demons lurking about in her brain. Nodding to Ivan, he walks over to the contraption and pulls a lever, lowering it until she's looking straight up at the ceiling. She looks so small and forlorn, with both of us crowding over her. Shaking my head, I force myself to bury my pity. She doesn't deserve it. Not yet. Once she's satisfied my need for blood, then we can start fresh.
"I'm not going to fight with some figment white knight you have in your brain. Jeremy isn't going to come rescue you. You're stuck with me now, and you'll be wise to remember that not only am I a jealous lover, I'm a vindictive asshole. I wanted us to have a conversation first, but it seems to me that you need a constant reminder of who you belong to now. Every time you get turned on, I want you to remember me. Every time arousal flows through your body, you'll think of me."
Ivan turns on a small light on his head before picking up the piercing needle. I keep Chelsea's gaze on me, not wanting her to realize what's happening before it's too late. I don't want her to damage herself because she’s panicking. Leaning down, I brush my fingers across her cheek before sliding my lips across hers. The moment she moans into my touch, Ivan doesn't waste any time. Her mouth opens to scream as the needle punctures delicate flesh. Fisting her hair, I lean down to capture her lips, swallowing her screams deep within me. Whether for pleasure or pain, her screams are mine now. I own them, just like I own her.
Pulling away from her decadent mouth, I look down to see Ivan’s handiwork. A smooth, shiny ball rests on top of her clit, nestled against her hood. At the top is another silver ball with an intricate design etched in. A smile curves my lips as I stare at my personal brand.
Though I’d love to see it emblazoned on Chelsea’s flesh so everyone knows who she belongs to, I can’t risk tying her that close to me. Not yet. They would be looking for identifying marks. Chelsea’s mouth gapes open as her brain processes what just happened to her body.
“Did-did you just cut my clit off?”
Her voice is hoarse and terrified. Her body quakes as her brain fills in what I’m assuming is a worst-case scenario for her. Chuckling, I motion Ivan out of the way so I can hunch down and do some inspection of my own. I'm torn between actually continuing the mind fuck and enjoying her reactions to her new piece of jewelry. I let my fingers drift about, skimming the area but not quite touching the piercing. Her quick intake of breath reassured me that she’s not completely traumatized, just momentarily scared.
“And deny myself the fun of teasing and tormenting you? I think not. Just a piercing. Just a small piece of jewelry to be your ever-constant reminder that you, all of you, belong to me. Not some fantasy that you cook up in your brain. Me.”
I blow against the piercing, my cock throbbing as she moans and writhes, trying to get closer to my mouth. Maybe that’s it then. If she doesn’t respond negatively to pain and physical punishment doesn’t deter her, perhaps denying her physical intimacy will do the trick.
Standing up, I unzip my pants, sighing as my shaft lurches forward, finally free of its confinement. I pull a condom out of my pocket and toss it to Ivan. I don’t even have to check in with him. I know he’s hard. Torturing pretty ladies always gets him going. He catches it in mid-air, his eyes gleaming as he shimmies out of his pants. Eager. A touch too eager for my liking. I really hope he enjoys her because it's going to be the last opportunity he'll ever have to touch her intimately. Until I can get this delicious conundrum out of my brain, no one will be safe if they touch her.
Sliding up to her face, I stroke back the hair plastered to her skin from all the crying. My cock bobs as excitement zips through my body at seeing her defenses cracked and waiting for me to bust them wide open. There's a bit of vulnerability lurking in her eyes as she stares up at me, a vulnerability I cannot wait to exploit. Keeping her gaze locked on me, I tap the head of my cock against her lips, pulling back any time her tongue reaches out to lap at me. Eventually, she will learn that all pleasure, given and received, will be at my command. Not hers.
"Since I've already enjoyed the pleasure of your ass tonight, I'll let Ivan have a taste. You wanted to seduce him, right? Wanted to take him into your bed in hopes that he would spirit you away from me? Now's your chance, Lastachka, try to turn his head with that pretty asshole of yours." I bend down to palm her breasts, groaning as her nipples jut up against my hands in a silent entreaty. "Are you still sore down there? I wonder." Nodding at Ivan, I turn my attention to Chelsea, unable to let myself enjoy his use of her.
Pulling back, I capture her lips with mine, stifling the gasp as Ivan starts to work on her. A pained whine fills the room, barely concealing Ivan's grunting. I look up, noting the deep furrows in his brow as he tries his best to ease himself into her tight hole. My cock twitches as I remember her ass contracting around my shaft, the ripples of pleasure that washed over me with every twitch of her body.
"Open."
I'm unable to resist her body any further. I avail myself to her mouth. Getting off is the only thing on my mind right now. Not Ivan, not her blatant disobedience, just her body engulfing mine in any way possible. I rest my thumb against her chin, opening her even wider. Her eyes water as her jaw strains against my touch. In one long stroke, I fill her mouth, bottoming out as my balls smack her nose. Chelsea's fingers fail about in an impotent show as she frantically tries to pull out of the restraint. I count to ten before pulling out, giving her a moment to heave around my tip.
"Every time I pull out, you better breathe, girl. Understood?