Buy My Soul (Sixty Days 2)

I showered before I sent the countdown notification to the client base, being sure to pick out a pristine suit with weighty cufflinks for my reappearance in her room. I opted for black. Black shirt. Black tie. Black jacket. Shoes polished to a mirror shine. A graze of dark stubble on my jaw.

I checked myself in the mirror before I deemed myself ready, making sure I was every bit as preened as she was soiled. The contrast would speak volumes. To the webcam viewers. To the onlookers.

To her.

She was the one I was priming myself for.

Her reaction would be everything.

Her needy subservience would be everything.

I sent one of my team out for a finest takeout meal from an Italian restaurant on the beachfront. A delicacy of pasta in an opulent sauce, paired with a roasted vegetable starter.

I presented it to perfection, gleaming cutlery, classic white porcelain. A fresh pitcher of mineral water brimming with ice. I carried it upstairs with my heart thudding, ensuring I’d allowed enough time for her to eat her fill before the showing, but when I swung the door open and filled the room with light, she barely glanced in my direction.

She was on her back, legs spread and knees lolling against the mattress. Her expression was one of resignation. Calm and jaded all at once.

I wasn’t expecting it. Not so soon. Wasn’t expecting the way she kept her eyes from me, glancing at my shoes for a heartbeat before returning her gaze to the ceiling.

I toed the pitiful breakfast tray aside as I made my way across the room, placing the platter down on the bed beside her and standing tall and silent.

My eyes roved over her nakedness. Her shallow breathing. The grime still on her skin from the day earlier. Her fingers stiffened at her sides, and I knew then, from the tiny gesture, that she’d touched herself in my absence.

Her face was beautiful but dirty. I had no doubt my cum was still dry on her pretty mouth.

“Good girls eat their breakfast,” I told her. “Good girls earn their dinner too.”

“I wasn’t hungry, sir,” she lied.

“Nor thirsty?”

She shook her head. Another lie.

A terrible lie.

One I’d make her pay for.

“Sixty days of obedience include taking care of your basic human needs,” I said. “You’ll eat what you’re given. Whatever you’re given.” I smirked, even though her eyes weren’t on me to notice. “Believe me, sweetheart, some meals will be more appetising than others. Some will be in your stomach only a short while before you retch your guts up all over yourself.”

If there was a wave of apprehension in her she didn’t show it. Her face was unmoved.

It riled me surprisingly deep.

“Manners, slut,” I said. “You’ll speak when spoken to.”

“Sorry, sir,” she responded, but she wasn’t sorry.

She wasn’t anything.

The meal must have been hard to ignore, but she was making a good job of it.

“You’ll eat this,” I told her. “You’ll eat and be grateful, otherwise I’ll be feeding you on offal three times a day from here on in.”

Her eyes met mine and held for a moment. I wanted a spark of life. A spark of fight.

A spark of fuck you, sonofabitch and the promise to put up her fists as I pushed her body to the limits.

Yet again, there was nothing.

She rolled onto her side and took a fork in her dainty fingers, stabbing at a piece of pasta and chewing it down as though it was nothing more than a microwave ready meal. She took a decent glug of iced water and forked up some more.

And then she thanked me.

It was dull. Meaningless.

Subservient in the least satisfying way.

“What is this?” I asked. “What’s with your dutiful spinelessness this evening?”

She swallowed before she answered.

“I’m doing what I’m told, sir. I’ll do whatever I’m told. Give you whatever you ask of me.”

I tipped my head as I watched her eat, weighing up my options, and that’s when I saw it. It was over in the briefest of flashes. One tiny glance up at me as her thighs squeezed together.

Despite everything, her body wanted what was coming. Wanted me.

And despite everything, mine wanted hers right back. Wanted her without the cameras. Wanted her performance all for me. Her boundaries breaking purely for me.

My sensibilities wilted. I hated how they wilted.

I hated how I cared so much for this sorry little creature and hated the magic of her spellbinding complexity all the more.

I ripped the cutlery from her hands and threw it to the floor, plunging my fingers into the bowl of pasta and taking a handful of her hair as she gasped. I tipped her neck until her jaw opened naturally, ploughing the food into her mouth with enough force that her cheeks bulged for me.

“You have no idea what it means to give whatever I ask of you. You’re nothing but a body at my command, and you’ll suffer for it. Believe me, you’ll suffer for it.”