Her Master's Teacher Read online

  Releasing one of her hips, I gripped my hand around my cock again, stroking slowly as the head rested against the swell of her ass.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, Claire. I’m going to shove my cock in that tight little cunt of yours and I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of it.”

  Pushing down between the slickened skin of her cunt, my head breached the tight circle. She jumped and I held tighter with my hand on her hip, my teeth grazing the skin of her neck. I shoved in deeper and shivered at the tight warmth, the soft and decadent envelope of her body over my dick.

  Holding my place inside her, I waited for the tension in her body to slip away like the water over her skin. Minutes passed, my hips moving slowly, not drawing me out or pushing me further in either. The motion between us was there, but I wanted her to relax into it.

  However, that relaxation never came.

  Instead, my beautiful girl pushed back, forcing me deeper inside. My breath hissed between my lips.

  Suddenly, she was moving. Slowly at first, she slid herself over my cock, pulling back and forth, the tight walls gripping at my width. My hands gripped her body tighter in response. I wanted to push forward, but I wanted to see what she would do more.

  Her chest arched forward, pressing her breast firmly against the palm of my hand. Fuck. I wanted my mouth on those perfect fucking breasts. Her shoulder was a weak substitute. When my teeth clamped down, she cried out again, forcing her hips back more until I was buried inside her.

  Suspicion touched my thoughts at her actions and I whispered, “What games are you playing now, beautiful?”

  I didn’t wait for a response.

  My hands were on her hips and I took control. Wrapping my fingers along the bone, I pulled her back and forth over me. She started to moan, a light mewl at first that built in volume in time with the building of my speed. Our bodies slapped together, a sound louder than the spray of water that poured over our heads.

  “Fuck. You are everything I fucking imagined.”

  Pulling her away from the wall, I reached up to force her head down, bending her over even more as I pounded into her. Running my hand down her spine, I watched her ass bounce where it rose up along her lower back.

  Her moans started again, light and breathy. I was nearing my release, not able to slow myself down to draw it out any longer. She was exquisite and I imagined her body splayed out over my bed, bound and gagged against my wall. She was mine to play with for the next month, at least, and I swore to myself that I’d have her in every way possible.

  She started to cry, meeting each of my thrusts by forcing her body against me. The muscles of her cunt rippled along my dick and clenched down, milking me as I moved. I couldn’t hold it.

  I swear if the woman hadn’t braced her hands against the wall, her head would have gone through it.

  I pushed forward one last time with so much force that she almost lost her footing. It didn’t matter in the end because I gripped her hips lifting her so that she was on her toes. I wanted to flood her with my cum, but I had to pull out, cursing under my breath when I spurted out onto the floor.

  Our breath was heavy and I lowered her back down to her feet. When she tried to look up, I reached out again, gripping her hair and holding her in place.

  Remembering my place, I cleared my throat, releasing her hips and ordering, “Clean yourself up.” There was no emotion to my voice, no hint of the fire she’d just built inside me.

  Stepping out of the shower, I ignored her sudden tears. Toweled off and dressed, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the sink counter once again.

  My eyes were locked to her body while she shampooed her hair and rinsed away the memory of what I’d just done to her.

  My stomach growled because it was time for lunch and I smiled to realize how delightful it would be.

  Chapter Ten

  Claire

  There was hope.

  At least, that’s what I was telling myself.

  I wouldn’t have thought it at first, not from what I saw in the bedroom and when I was forced to crawl down the hall, but he gave himself away when his lust took over. The words he spoke in the bathroom gave away more than I think he realized.

  Every time you glanced at me in class, every time you watched me walking down the halls, I knew. I looked back every so often and recognized the interest you were feeling, I felt it too…

  He’d intended his words to be a stab, something developed and spoken in order to cause shame and fear. It didn’t work. Instead, I heard something else entirely. He was interested in me, he’d watched me. There was a connection that had been established between us prior to his captivity of me.

  That was something I could play on.

  This wasn’t a cold stranger abusing a nameless face…maybe with Aiden, but not with Holland. He felt something towards me, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Toweling off as he watched me, I eyed him discreetly, wondering how I could use the emotion he may or may not realize he had against him.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No.”

  I wasn’t. What I’d just forced myself to do, rubbing myself up against him like I was a dog in heat, it sickened me, but it had to be done. As soon as I noticed the possible connection he felt to me, I’d decided to play into the role he wanted, to gain his trust and bide my time to figure out an escape.

  “Very well. I’ll just have to find something for you to do while I eat.” He winked and I wanted to stab him. “I’m a growing boy and I’m starving.”

  Forcing the acrid bile back down my throat, I looked away in an attempt to hide the scowl on my face. When I turned back, I noticed how he flicked a small metal switch by the mirror. I’d seen him touch it before, but it wasn’t until now that I wondered what it did. A fan hadn’t sounded and no additional lights had turned on.

  Extending his arm, he motioned towards the door. “Ladies first.”

  “I have no clothes.”

  A grin twitched at the corner of his lip. “I know.”

  Bastard.

  “You’re going to parade me around in front of other people, aren’t you?”

  He was quiet where he stood, his eyes moving over my body to a point where his stare was almost palpable against my skin. “I’m going to do whatever the hell I want.”

  I nodded. My mind felt torn apart, racing in two separate directions, my instincts demanding I fight while my logic suggested I play along. Suppressing my desire to strike out, I curled my hands into fists at my sides, bit my tongue and moved to exit the room. The soft pad of my feet against the floor was met, step for step, by the sound of his boots.

  “Normally, Courtesans do not walk in front of their owners. The only reason I’m allowing it now is because I can’t trust you not to run.”

  “Owners? I thought I was to refer to you as Master.” I spit the word out, my eyes rolling at how ridiculous it sounded. I understood the use of it, however. These men used everything, including terminology, to instill their sick delusion of power.

  “I’m not surprised you picked up on the distinction. You are now part of a society of affluent men, Claire. You’ve been handpicked and selected, a woman worthy of being treasured and admired. Within this group, the two terms, Master and owner, are very different things.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  He chuckled. “Do you think that knowledge will save you?”

  I didn’t humor his question with a response. I had to keep him talking. “What’s the difference between the two? If I’m part of all this, it’s probably best I learn how it works.”

  Nearing the end of the hall, we encountered a door and I stopped in front of it.

  “Open the door.”

  I was his diligent slave apparently. Without question, I reached out, pushing down on the knob and pulling the door open to find a large foyer stretched out in front of me. The home was elegant, every light fixture, wall color and piece of furniture looking like it had been hand-selected to
display the wealth of the homeowner. I was surprised. Nothing like this had existed in the two rooms and hall that I’d seen so far.

  “Are you impressed?” A whisper against my ear caused me to jump. He stood behind me, close enough to allow the heat from his body to warm the skin of my back.

  “Not really.”

  I wasn’t playing the game very well, but he was smart enough to know I wouldn’t submit so soon. It felt nice to let the fight slip out of me every so often, even if only on snarky words. My desire to push back against my captors was like a time bomb pulsing inside me. I was afraid that holding onto it for too long would short-circuit my thoughts, which would cause me to act out in such a way that I brought damage unto myself in the form of their punishment.

  His hand was braced against my spine and he pushed me forward. “Keep walking until you reach the next hall. You’ll need to turn right once we get there.”

  Doing as I was told, I put one foot in front of the other, silently cursing the fact that I felt so weak. I couldn’t help but look at the front door longingly, battling once again with the decision to attempt escape or to follow directions like the good little courtesan I was supposed to be.

  I couldn’t help my curiosity and I wanted to get as much information out of Holland before the other man returned. Aiden had not been forthcoming with information. The asshole hadn’t even let me talk.

  “Are you going to explain the different terms? Master, courtesan, owner. What does it all mean?”

  I prayed that Holland’s young age and overinflated ego would seduce him into divulging facts about this place that would later be useful. I wanted him to brag, to astound me with how smart and put together he believed he was.

  “Your owner is the man to whom you’ll be sold. He’s not a Master because he doesn’t train the courtesans within the society. There are very few Masters, in fact. Our terms are subject to our own definition. I’m not sure I need to explain the term ‘courtesan’. You’ve learned already what that role entails.”

  “When am I being sold?” It was the most pressing question I had at that moment, it gave me a deadline, a certain amount of time during which I could figure this place out and escape. If I was moved elsewhere it would put me right back at square one.

  “You already have. We don’t groom a courtesan until a request is made. They tell us what they want and we provide it to them.”

  Shock tore along my spine. I’d been specifically requested, ordered as if I were nothing more than a custom car or worse, a quick meal at a fast food place. I kept digging.

  “So what makes you so sure the owner will be able to keep me? If he doesn’t know how to train his slave, who’s to say that I’ll obey him?”

  Laughter, dark and cruel, sounded behind me. “Because he’ll kill you if you don’t.”

  Reaching the hall, I turned the corner as he’d instructed. A kitchen appeared in my view.

  “So I’m going to die?” I made my words shake on purpose, pretending that fear overtook my control over my voice.

  His hands were on my shoulders, his body pressing up against my naked skin. “I wouldn’t worry about that. By the time you leave here, you’ll have no objections to pleasing the man who bought you.” He released his hold to step around me and move into the kitchen. “Take a seat in one of the chairs at the table.”

  Choosing the chair closest to me, I sat as instructed. A whimper escaped me when the bruised portions of my ass met the wood. Holland glanced back, noticing my discomfort, but not making a move to help.

  Returning his attention to the fridge, he opened the door and rummaged around inside. Without looking back, he said, “It’s going to hurt for the next couple of days. Aiden appears to have done a number on you. The marks look horrible against your skin. I hope you don’t cause anymore.”

  Pulling out some food, he placed it on the counter, then reached above his head and flipped open a cabinet to grab a plate. “You should eat. I’m not sure you’ll have the opportunity again once Aiden and Rebecca get back.”

  “Rebecca?”

  He glanced over at me. “Aiden’s courtesan.”

  After putting together two sandwiches, he crossed the room to sit at the table, sliding one of the plates in my direction. “Eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  He’d devoured half of his sandwich by the time I could say those three words. Swallowing it down, he shrugged, reaching out to pull the plate away from me. “Suit yourself. But you know that you need strength to fight this. Allowing your body to starve is not the best way to hold on to your wits.”

  I was so confused. “Are you trying to help me, Holland, or hurt me?”

  His eyes narrowed, caution carving a razor edge into his words. “I’ll let you rephrase that.”

  “Master…”

  Taking another bite of his sandwich, he chewed slowly while eyeing me. Swallowing the bite, he said, “That’s better.”

  He stood up and crossed the room, pulling open a drawer and removing a plastic spatula. When he was standing beside me again, he wrapped his hand around the bicep of my left arm. “Up.”

  Yanking me from the chair, he practically threw me across the table. My chest slammed into the cold surface of the wood and I groaned.

  “Stay there.”

  Rounding the table, his steps were heavy against the floor. My wrists were in his hands moments later and I felt the cool surface of steel replace the warmth of his palms. I couldn’t help my reaction. I tried to pull away. He yanked me forward until my hips hit against the edge of the wood surface.

  “Holland, what are you doing?”

  Chains rattled next, his body disappearing as he knelt down. The metal cuffs bit into my skin. By the time he stood up again, I realized I was locked down. “Holland?”

  I tried to look up at him, but it hurt too much to strain my neck from my position.

  “I’m sorry, Pet. I couldn’t hear you. What did you just call me?”

  “Master…I’m sorry, I meant Master.” My eyes rolled again. I couldn’t help it. The word was so ridiculous.

  His hands touched my shoulders. “I don’t think you’re sorry. At least it doesn’t sound like it.”

  When the warmth of his large palms was removed from my skin, the cold air swept in to replace it. Chills ran along my spine. Heavy steps circled the table, stopping when I assumed he was standing behind me. Shuffling around on the surface, I attempted to look at him, to make eye contact or anything, but it was impossible.

  His hands were on my ankles, chains rattling as shackles were locked in place.

  His tone was casual when he explained, “Aiden uses this table to train quite often.”

  A loud click alerted me to the fact that I was locked in place. Bracing myself, I expected the sting of his hand, the pain of abuse. It never came. Instead, I heard the wooden legs of Holland’s chair scrape over the tiled floor. Turning my head, I was finally able to see him. He sat back in his chair, holding the same lazy posture he always took in class. His green eyes were filled with humor when he looked at me.

  Picking up the sandwich he’d previously offered me, he took a bite, chewing slowly before swallowing it down.

  His expression morphed from bemused geniality to something darker and more serious.

  “I don’t like to punish.” It sounded like a confession, but the heat in his eyes gave away the fact that he didn’t hate it as much as he claimed. “Aiden typically handles that part of the training. He doesn’t care because, to him, it’s business. Money. That’s his bottom line.”

  I didn’t want to respond. I felt broken already just for being shackled across the table, my ass exposed to the room, to whomever should happen to walk through. I had to keep him talking. There was something there, something I couldn’t quite recognize. I prayed it was remorse or compassion.

  “So why do you let him make you do this? You don’t have to do as you’re told. You could leave, turn him in…do something…”

  �
�You’re mistaking my point in telling you this.” Popping the last bite of sandwich in his mouth, he chewed and swallowed slowly, never once looking away from me. “You’re going to get hurt, really hurt, if you don’t settle in and accept what’s happened to you.”

  My cheek was pressed against the wood, making it difficult to speak clearly. “I won’t accept this. Ever.”

  His head cocked to the side, a small grin peeking out from the corner of his lips. “You’re not like the others.”

  He waited for the response I refused to give him. I wanted to see what he had to say, but I wasn’t willing to goad it from him.

  “The others…” He sat back, putting his hands behind his head and lifting his feet to rest them on the table. “…they cried and screamed a lot in the first couple of days. Even when they weren’t being punished for their behavior, they cried. You’ve cried, but only in response to pain. I like that about you. Aiden won’t.”

  “Why do I give a shit what Aiden thinks? He’s a monster.” Closing my eyes, I was tired of looking at Holland. I didn’t know why I had to be strapped across the surface of a table to have this conversation.

  A door closed somewhere in the house and I opened my eyes to see Holland moving out of his lazy position. Pulling his feet from the table and lowering his arms, he spun in his chair to look towards the entrance. When his expression fell, dread washed over me.

  “What the hell is going on in here?”

  The click of dress shoes moved slowly into the kitchen. I couldn’t look up to see who’d entered, but I recognized the voice: Aiden.

  “I thought you weren’t returning until tonight?”

  “Plans changed.”

  I could hear the feet approaching the table, circling around behind me and stopping. My body began to shake, enough so that it caused the plates to rattle on the table. Holland reached out to stop them. I didn’t want to be afraid of this man, but I couldn’t help it. Just the sound of him brought the pain back where he’d struck me.

  “Holland, I want you to go to my office and wait for me. I’ll speak to you in private.”