Read Girl for Free Online Page B

one tiny roll in before the Master grabs me and shoves me to the floor, onto my side, then rolls me over on my back.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Girl?” he asks. “Did I tell you to move?”
    He doesn’t need to raise his voice. Every single thing that comes out of his mouth is a threat.
    I don’t dare shake my head. He is so thoroughly intimidating, straddling my body. If only I could tear my gaze from his for a moment to collect myself, but he would never allow it. He stares down at me, his blue eyes burning with a dark fire that looks like banked anger and something else. Something impossible not to recognize: banked desire. He wants me.
    My heart leaps, my body thrumming as he continues to stare at me, into me. There are long, breathless moments in which I feel as if I am held suspended in mid-air. In which I swear desire is like a sound wave just out of reach, then a buzzing in the room, then a drumbeat pounding between my thighs.
    He takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and I can’t begin to imagine what that means. Then he blinks, leans down and slaps my face—one light smack, then another. He pauses only to take the gag from my mouth, and I have perhaps a single second to press my lips together before he starts slapping my face once more, my left cheek, then the right, harder and harder.
    Why do I feel joyous? Maybe it’s because he hasn’t taken his burning gaze from mine. He’s hurting me, but I want the pain. I want to take it for him. To be nothing for him. To be everything. I want it because he is the most wicked sadist I have ever met, which makes my heart trip and tumble. Which makes me need to please him all the more. And something in my chest loosens, opens up like a black chasm lined in silver.
    Terrifying.
    Yes, please.
    Finally he turns me over and drags me on my knees to a small sofa, but I don’t have a moment to see what it looks like—the room is a blur of red velvet and gold damask and God knows what else as he bends me over the sofa, my breasts resting on the seat. I hear him remove his belt, and with the first blow I know he’s doubled it, making a heavy loop of the leather. He hits my poor ass with it, hard and fast. The pain is intense right from the start, and at first I get a nice flood of endorphins, pleasure making me wet, making me need to come. But very quickly he’s hitting me too hard for any of those lovely brain chemicals to help, and it’s simply my unbridled desire to please that enables me to take it.
    Anything for him.
    I hear his ragged breathing over me as he drops the belt and his fist goes into my hair once more. He pulls me to the floor, onto my back again, and kicks my thighs apart. I watch him through a haze of wonder and pain as he drops the belt and smacks my breasts with his bare hand. My body arches into the pain, into his touch, into the lovely brutality.
    Anything for you.
    “Do not defy me, Girl.” He places one booted foot on my right shoulder, then reaches down to give my breast another hard slap. “In time—and let’s both hope you’re smart enough—you’ll come to find I have little patience for an unruly slave. You are mine.” He slaps the other breast, the pain making my ears ring. “ Mine. I will be sure you never have the opportunity to forget that.”
    Yes, please.
    He stands there watching me for endless moments. Then he leans down and grabs my jaw in his strong hand. He says in a low tone, almost a murmur, “You are too damn beautiful for your own good. Or maybe for mine.”
    Before I can help myself, I shake my head my head the tiniest bit, and he allows me to do it.
    “Yes. I don’t know what this means, either.” He stops for a moment, takes a deep breath, purses his lips, then squeezes my jaw harder. “If I asked you—told you—to suck my cock, you would,” he says harshly.
    I nod, not knowing what else to do, not knowing what’s going on.
    “If I beat you—and I will—you would accept it