Read Plaything: Volume Two for Free Online Page B

warm. Robert stopped in front of me, and the woodgrain was replaced by the finely tanned leather of his shoes. I admired the brogue pattern, the tailored cut of his suit legs, so engrossed in the moment that the heat of his fingers under my chin made me gasp. He tilted my head upwards, but I kept my eyes down.
    “Good girl,” he said. “Look at me.”
    I took my time to meet his gaze, taking in every inch of him. Watching him, reading him, inhaling long, slow breaths filled with the perfect scent of him. Our eyes locked. A flutter in my stomach. And then heat. Heat right through me. I kept breathing. In for seven, out for eleven.
    He swallowed.
    The corner of his mouth twitched.
    “That’s good,” he said. “Really good.”
    And it felt good. It felt good to be good for him.
    His thumb brushed my lips. “You must always be ready, Amy, ready for anything. Any command, any request, any touch.” He said the last part pointedly, moving forwards to press his crotch to my face. I could feel him, hard, through the fabric, the steel of his belt buckle cold against my forehead. He wrapped my hair around his fist, held me tight. “You will stay calm, and ready. You will keep breathing. You will show them how much you want it. All of it. Whatever it may be.”
    I would have nodded if I had leverage, instead I grunted in the affirmative. My palms stayed on my thighs, my body relaxed. I took a deep breath when he finally stepped away, but my eyes didn’t falter as they found his. I was ready. Ready to open wide and give him the obedience of my throat. Ready to please him, to tease him, to suck him fucking dry.
    I could do this. I could do any of this.
    The gift Robert had given me went beyond hope. In a perverse, twisted, warped view of rationality, he’d given me my power back. The power to accept. The power to play. The power to choose.
    And I chose to want this.
    A smile crept across my lips. “Please,” I said. “More.”
    “Please, what?”
    “Please, sir,” I corrected.
    “That’s better,” he said. “But the answer is no. I have other plans.” He moved away, and I adjusted my posture, dropping my eyes to his feet and presenting myself in just the way he wanted. “I want you to think about your fantasies. I want you to imagine yourself with that faceless man, the man who takes you however he wants. The man who commands you, who shows no mercy. I want you to imagine his hands all over you, his fingers inside you, his warm breath on your neck.”
    “Yes, sir.” My voice was barely a whisper.
    “You’re going to touch yourself, Amy, and I’m going to watch.”
    A flush of self-consciousness, and my heart sped up. I kept my breathing steady, my posture at ease. “Yes, sir.”
    “I want you to touch yourself the way you imagine him touching you.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Don’t hold anything back from me, Amy. I want to see you . I want to see everything.”
    I nodded. “I understand, sir.”
    “Begin. You may close your eyes at first, if it helps.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    The fantasies came so easily, despite everything, just like they always had. I pictured the darkness, caught the deep, earthy scent of my imaginary lover. His hands would be heavy, his skin rough, maybe even calloused. My hands moved from my thighs, tracing patterns across my skin as they made their way up to my breasts. My imaginary lover wouldn’t be gentle, and I wasn’t either. He’d raise my tits high, gripping them hard. My nipples had already tightened. They felt like bullets against my palms. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, disappearing further inside my fantasy, and I squeezed hard, as he would, enjoying the way my flesh yielded to my fingers. I pinched, and pulled, and twisted, keeping up the pressure until sparks of pleasure shot through my skin, then eased up, teasing with just my fingertips until the sensation subsided. My knees shuffled further apart, and I arched my back, presenting more of myself for my