"Did you touch yourself last night?"
I blanch, my brain firing off lies and counter lies. He made it very clear at the castle that I wasn't allowed to touch myself without his permission. No doubt that's what the shield was for. With a sigh, I force my body to relax. There's no way I could have technically touched myself. Not with that monstrosity in place. Planting a serene smile on my face, I look down at my fingers then back up at him.
"No, Sir."
"But you attempted?"
"You said I wasn't allowed to touch myself," I counter.
"Very good for being able to repeat my rules back to me, but that doesn't answer the question."
I pause, searching for the words. Yes, I attempted, but I didn't succeed. That should count for something. Biting the inside of my cheek, I stifle a laugh. Master Grigori must think I'm stupid if he really believes I'm going to out myself.
"If you said that I wasn't allowed to touch myself, then that means no attempts are allowed to be made."
His lips stretch in a wide grin. Crossing his arms, he shakes his head. "I can do this all day, Little Bird. I assume you must be hungry by now. You haven't had anything to eat since yesterday."
I open my mouth to deny his claims when my stomach grumbles, breaking the pause of silence. Looking down, I scowl at my waist, irritated that it would out me like that.
"I can go a bit longer without eating."
His eyes slant into a glower. "Don't test me on this, Lastachka." He stalks forward, pinning me in between him and the bed. "You don't want to start relying on me to give you your nourishment. I have all the time in the world to make you beg for every morsel that passes in between your lips. Or, I can tell the cook to only make healthy options that will meet your nutritional requirements without giving you the pleasure of taste. How does that sound? Or, would you rather finish this up, stop being stubborn, and enjoy some eggs, bacon, and waffles?"
My stomach rumbles again in protest. I just can't win with this man. First, he denies me orgasms, then he threatens to give me only tasteless slop? My lips twist in a scowl as I look at the messy remains of his orgasm plastered on my skin. He denies me everything but can take and do whatever he wants. It's just not fair.
"You can't do this to me."
He blinks in surprise. "Can't I? I don't recall late-night emissions or food restrictions being listed on your hard limits." Pausing, he runs his fingers over the dry patches, scraping at a few bits here and there. "Besides, you look good dressed in nothing but my cum."
The sensation of his nails against my skin sends a shudder through me. It shouldn't feel this good, damn it. Nothing he's doing should affect me like it is. What the hell is wrong with me? Is it just the fact that I haven't had a good, hard scene in months? That has to be it. I feel a small amount of relief as reasoning takes hold of my brain. It's such a rational explanation. It still does nothing to help settle the growing anger and resentment that being in this program causes.
"It's not fair!"
Unperturbed, he continues picking at the flaking pieces. It begins to overstimulate me, grating on my sensitive nerves until I can't stand it anymore.
"I quit!"
"You what?" He barks out, laughter tinging his voice. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Unless you want jail time. Knowing John, he's got enough policemen, lawyers, and judges in his pocket that you'll go away for a very long time. Threatening someone with a knife is a very serious charge, to begin with. What do you think the report will say when they're done doctoring it up?"
Blood drains from my face. Gripping the nightstand behind me, I use all of my strength to keep myself upright.
"You can't do that."
"I never said that I would do that, now did I?" He smiles again, this time it's all teeth. No humor shines in his eyes. He's deadly serious. "Besides, that's if I actually decide to let you go. Come now. It's not all bad, is it? Why would you want to trade in all this for a jail cell?"
"It's still a prison. It doesn't matter how you dress it up."
"Ah, but even a gilded cage is better than sleeping on a hardened cot wondering who's going to come after you first, the inmates or the prison guard."
I sigh at his words, defeat sagging my body. He's right. I hate it with a passion, but he's right.
"It's not fair," I reiterate, determined that he understands exactly where I stand.
Pulling back, he crosses his arms and stares at me a moment, pity clouding his eyes. I much prefer him cold and distant. For him to feel sorry for me makes it all the more real that he owns the strings I dance on.
"What exactly isn't fair. You broke the law. Instead of prison at worst or something on your permanent record at best, you're given access to a higher education that many have wet dreams about. You're given money for things you might need. You don't have to work if you don't want to. Let's take it a step further, shall we? Now that I own you, that comes with even more benefits than most of the other submissives would ever dare to dream about. I am richer than beyond your wildest imagination. “
I open my mouth to prove him wrong, but once again, he cuts me off.
“You think I didn’t research you? You think I don’t know that paltry house you come from with both parents too absent to care about the needs of you and your siblings.”
He reaches out to caress my face, his touch so firm, so strong, so...present. It’s like he actually sees me. I don’t know how I feel about him or his words. I wish he’d just let me be and let me wallow in myself. Why does he have to keep pressing?
“You’ll never have to fear again. My men will protect you with their lives; you’ll never again have to look over your shoulder, fearing the monsters in the dark. I am the ruler of those monsters, Lastachka. All I've asked in return is that you obey me without question. Everything that you consider bad that's happened to you has been a result of your actions. You've caused all of this."
Snorting, I motion to the remaining semen littering my chest. "Sure as hell didn't cause this."
"What can I say? You're a delight to watch while you're sleeping."
Heat infuses in my cheeks. I'm not embarrassed. That's not what this is about. I've been cummed on plenty of times. What makes me angry is the fact he did it while I was asleep. He came to me when I was vulnerable.
"You can get away with everything," I spit out, unable to contain my anger. "You and your Society can get away with murder, and everyone would look the other way. Yeah, I screwed up. So what. Everyone makes mistakes. That doesn't mean we aren't allowed protection from you monsters."
"Let me get this straight. You've been ass fucked twice in one night, and what you're concerned about is me jacking off on you while you were sleeping?"
"Yes. Because that's my space, damn it. You violated the only safe place I have in this godforsaken house."
I squirm as I become all too aware of the shield covering my clit. Of the humiliation of not being allowed to orgasm while he paints me in his. He peers at me as I suss through which one I'm most mad about, as if he can read my thoughts plain as day. Scowling, I turn away, only to have him grip my chin in his fingers.
"What is this really about? You're not stupid enough to believe that any place in my house is sacred to you."
As he stares me down, the silence fills the room. I bite down on my lower lip to keep from filling the silence, but his eyes are an unnerving presence, demanding I tell him everything. Shoving aside all my feelings of right and wrong, I pick out something that I can say without incriminating myself.
"It's the fact that you're not held to any rules. That's all."
He releases me with a shake of his head. It's like he can sense that I'm not being forthcoming. Well, screw him. I'm not going to place myself on the bench and just hand him the paddle. He may think of me as dumb and naive, but not even I would be that stupid.
"We are held to rules. The hard limits that you list in your paperwork; that's what we are bound by. If we break the hard limits, you can be sure John Anderson would have a few choice words. I have not had that sort of run-in with him, but I've heard whispers of repeat offenders disappearing." He holds up his hands. "I'm not saying something happened to them, but they never harmed another submissive again. On top of that, we all know the universal, unspoken rule of don't scare the vanillas. What do you think would happen if our submissives showed up at class with bruises, cuts, and God knows what else covering their skin? We could only keep it quiet for so long. We've been at this for decades, and that's all thanks to the fact that we're not idiots. We don't destroy our toys. You're a special case, though. I took great pains to deliver your lesson in the most painful ways possible, but I watched you. I calculated every strike so that it had a maximum effect with minimal damage."
He wraps his fingers around my bicep and hauls me into the bathroom. Blinking into the light, I squint up at the mirror, catching his expression as he looks about at the mess around him. A small niggle of guilt burrows into my heart as I look between him and the fading marks on my body. Twisting about, the angry, red slashes from yesterday are already a dull pink. The only major marks are the bruising on my ass from the belt and smatterings of bruises on my mound.
"You pierced me, though. That's permanent mutilation."