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from her lower lips and pinched the skin between her clit, pulling on her hood in a jerking like motion that teased her delightfully. “Three,” he stopped touching her and pressed the violet wand just inches above her clit, flicking it to its lowest setting. “Two,” he said.
     
    Trish squirmed in his arms.
     
    Her Master only held her tighter at that. “One,” he warned before hitting the button and giving her a little spark. She yelped instinctively. The man snapped his fingers. “Cum for me slut,” he commanded authoritatively. Trish gave in to the rush of ecstasy with ease, but knew she was far from going over that edge. She dared not to try and fake it, lest she bring his ire to its height.
     
    Heartbeats passed and an impatient noise escaped the man’s throat. “Do not make me repeat myself,” he pressed his thumb against the red button and the wand sprung to life – releasing a sharp pinch like pain against Trish.
     
    She recoiled into his tight embrace. “I’m sorry Master.”
     
    The man simply growled at her failure, circling her clit with his fingers before giving her another shock. He moved closer to her ear and whispered. “I’m a useless fucking cum slut,” he circled the end of the wand around her clit letting her fear settle deep. “Say it.”
     
    Tightness was all that Trish could feel in her throat but she steadied herself. “I’m a useless cum slut,” she mewled.
     
    Effortlessly the man clicked the wand to life. “I’m a useless fucking cum slut,” he emphasized what she had forgotten.
     
    Pain bloomed on Trish’s left thigh as she let out a pained noise. “I-I’m a useless fucking cum slut Master,” she squirmed. Trish began to feel light headed, drifting away, knowing that the night would be long and full of punishments when the Master was fanning the flames of his ego. But despite the miserable treatment she could not escape.
     
    She did not want to displease her Master.
     
     
     
    An Evening in Exhibition
     
     
     
      “So where exactly are we going,” I asked James, we had been driving for some time now.
     
    “Fancy place,” he said. “Eleanor Verone,” he briefly glanced over to me. “You’re a little underdressed but ya should be fine,” he assured.
     
    “If tonight’s the night,” I said. “Then why didn’t your boss come see me? Why send you,” I asked, fiddling with the radio until I found a local classical station. James slapped my hand away seconds later.
     
    “You actually listen to that crap or are you just trying to act sophisticated?” His words dripping with disbelief as he switched to something more rock and grunge.
     
    “Sorry I don’t listen to mindless dreck,” I scoffed.
     
    “Places to be and such,” he said in answer to my question about the boss man.
     
    “So he could take the time to just idly sit in some café but not to come and physically ask me?”
     
    “He’s persnickety.”
     
    “Maybe he’s just not that interested.”
     
    “Oh that boy’s interested alright,” it was the first time I had ever heard any of them refer to him outside of his usual names and honorifics. “Damn near sweats bullets every time I catch him thinkin about ya,” his voice was cheery, but I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.
     
    “Right… so why you? Why not Carina?”
     
    “She’d spoil ya darling dove,” he said, the way that he skirted around my question with humor instead of a more truthful answer was not lost on me. I found it passing curious the way he called me the same pet name that Carina did, I couldn’t understand the two separately let alone as a pair. “Boss wouldn’t want that,” he added. “Unless you’d rather her company than mine,” he quipped.
     
    “Precisely what I was thinking,” I told him.
     
    “Just has a way to himself,” James paused considering his next words. “Always wanting to fix people,” he waited a moment as he kept focused. “Seeing somethin that no one