Chapter 285
"I am Nicole Cooper!" she insisted.
"What?" I pressed my ear to her face, feigning confusion. "I didn't catch that."
"I am Nicole Cooper!" she repeated, louder this time.
"You are not Nicole Cooper," I corrected, my voice dropping to a husky murmur. "You are my pet."
I stubbed out my cigarette, needing a moment to gather myself. This woman was pushing all the right buttons, igniting a fire in my blood.
This time, I pulled out a cigar.
Nicole eagerly grabbed the lighter, but I blew out the flame before she could touch it. "What's wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"I wouldn't accept a light from you," I purred, my gaze holding hers. "But from my pet... I might."
The blood drained from her face, leaving her pale and shaken.
She knew she'd gone too far, but to back down now would be to lose face, to admit defeat. And Nicole, for all her flaws, was nothing if not tenacious.
"I am your pet," she choked out, forcing a smile. It was a brittle, unconvincing thing.
But knowing her true intentions, I felt no sympathy for her predicament.
"What was that?" I asked, my voice devoid of warmth. "What are you to me?"
"John, please...I want..." she began, her voice cracking.
She was blatant, I'd give her that, but I decided to play with her a little longer.
I placed the cigar between my lips, and this time, she managed to light it without a hitch.
"May I have it now, John?" she asked, her voice small.
I studied her, noting the slight tremor in her hands. "Can't handle kneeling anymore?"
"No, it's not that..."
"Then why are you shaking?"
"The floor is hard," she mumbled.
I lifted her chin with a finger, my expression hardening. "Ms. Cooper, you're lying. And I despise liars."
Panic flashed in her eyes. "No, I'm not!"
To confirm my suspicions, I slapped her face, lightly at first, then with increasing force. After seven, eight blows, her cheek was flushed crimson.
But she didn't flinch, meeting my gaze with a mixture of shame, resentment, and a flicker of something else... something darker.
Recognition dawned.
I lowered my hand, taking a long drag from my cigar and blowing the smoke in her face. "My pet," I murmured, my voice dangerously low. "Do you enjoy this?"
"John, I..."
"I'm not asking Ms. Cooper," I interrupted, my tone ice-cold. "Do you understand?"
Her gaze dropped, and then, under my unwavering stare, she whispered, "Yes, Master. Your pet enjoys it."
"Your hair is in the way," I said, my voice rough. "I can't continue like this."
"Then... John, may I borrow it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
I scoffed. "Figure it out."
"Oh..."
She sounded so small, so utterly defeated.
She glanced around, but there was nothing in reach.
Her eyes met mine, pleading. "John, can I stand up?"
"Tired of kneeling?"
"No, I... I found something to use."
She rose to her feet, then slowly, deliberately, peeled off her pink panties, using them to tie back her hair.
I watched, transfixed, as the scene unfolded before me. It was like something out of a movie, but the actress couldn't hold a candle to Nicole's raw sexuality.
Her cheeks flushed as she tied the damp fabric around her hair.
She might not have been a starlet, but the sight of her like that, so vulnerable, so utterly at my mercy, sent a jolt of desire through me.
The beast within me, dormant for so long, stirred to life.
Her short skirt rode dangerously high on her thighs, threatening to reveal everything with the slightest movement.
Was this a game to her? A way to test my boundaries?
Had I underestimated her, made her believe she could control me?
As I hesitated, she finished tying her hair, her eyes locking onto mine. They were dark, filled with a raw hunger that mirrored my own.
But I couldn't back down, not now.
"Resourceful," I said, my voice strained.
She sank back to her knees, resuming her ministrations. "Is this pressure okay, John?"
"It's fine."
"John... will you forgive me now?"
"Three transgressions, Ms. Cooper," I reminded her, my voice like velvet steel. "Do you think that's enough?"
"No, Master," she breathed, her gaze fixed on my face. "Please... punish me."
"And how should I do that?"
Her eyes darted around the room, landing on a metal ruler on the desk. It had been there before I arrived, a forgotten relic of the previous occupant.
She offered it to me, her hand trembling. "Use this, John. Please."
The woman had a penchant for the dramatic.
I took the ruler, testing its weight. It was perfect.
"On your face, Ms. Cooper?" I asked, my voice deceptively soft.
"Anywhere but my face, Master," she whispered, her eyes bright.
I tilted her chin up with the ruler, my gaze boring into hers. "Tell me, how many others have punished you like this?"
"No one, Master," she breathed.
I mentally multiplied that number by ten.
"Tell me how they did it."
"Like you, John," she whispered. "Just like you."
"Do you enjoy it, being treated like this?"
"No, Master," she gasped. "Not by them. Only by you."
She turned, offering herself up, and the ruler sang through the air.
As the welts rose on her skin, the last vestiges of my restraint shattered.
Pity had no place here. This woman had tried to destroy me, to send me to prison. I would break her, mold her into something new.
But fear alone wouldn't be enough. I needed to give her a reason to obey, to crave my touch.
The question was, how best to reward her compliance?
Her body shook with each blow, her cries a mixture of pain and something else, something disturbingly close to pleasure.
"Is the pressure still adequate, Ms. Cooper?"
"Yes, Master," she gasped.
"This time, I'm addressing Ms. Cooper."
"I find the pressure... exquisite, Master."
Her body went rigid, her legs trembled, and then she went utterly still.
She'd folded that quickly?
Mental dominance was far more potent than physical force.
After a moment, she stirred, her voice weak. "John, I..."
But I wasn't finished with her, not yet. The game had just begun.
Three rounds later, Nicole was spent, utterly broken.
She clung to my legs, her voice a ragged whisper. "John, please... let me rest. I can't..."
My anger had abated, replaced by a cold satisfaction. "Clean yourself up."
She whimpered, struggling to obey, wiping at the mess on the floor.
A knock sounded at the door.
I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. Nicole mirrored my panic, her eyes wide with fear.
"Under the desk," I hissed, shoving her down and adjusting my posture, trying to appear casual.
The desk was just big enough to conceal her, and with my body blocking the view, it should be fine.
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