Page 55 of Silver

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. You’ll wear them while we continue. What’s next on the agenda, little slut?”

I lick my lips, my face heating. “Training my naughty asshole, Sir.”

“Right. Get into position.”

Humiliated, with my nipples throbbing, I lower to my forearms and push my butt out. I purse my lips and try not to think about what he’s doing while he spreads my ass cheeks and rubs lube on my tight hole. Next, he lines the dilator up with my rosebud and pushes it into me without any warning.

A sob escapes my lips. He’s not injuring my tight hole, but the pressure is intense and unwanted.

Silver sets a palm on the small of my back and fucks me with the rod, moving it in and out, making it impossible for me to ignore the awakening nerve endings in my rectum.

I hate that it feels good. I hate that my pussy is wet. I hate that my sore nipples are pulsing as if they enjoy the stimulation.

I hate this life I’ve fallen into. I want out. I want it to end. I want to run.

I start crying because I’m beginning to realize that’s probably not going to happen. I’m not going to run to the police at the first chance I get because I need this. I need this fucked-up man to train and control me. I need him to teach me how to be his slave.

He’s right. I’d be lost and devastated and wandering aimlessly without him. That realization makes me cry harder. My tears don’t deter my Master from his task. He turns on the vibrator and continues fucking my ass until my juices are running down my thighs. I’m so close to coming I might do so without any contact with my clit.

Suddenly, he pushes the hateful dildo in deeper, turns up the vibrations, and reaches around to rub my clit. “Come, little slut.”

I’m sobbing as I obey him; my body is his to command. My orgasm is intense and takes my breath away. My ass pulses around the rod, and my clit throbs as he keeps rubbing it harder and harder until I come a second time.

My knees are shaking violently when he finally removes the dilator. He leaves me like this, a shivering ball of nerves, naked and exposed, emotionally and physically spent.

He’s back seconds later, once again helping me onto my knees. He squats next to me to wipe my face. “Shhh. That’s my good girl.” After he sets the cloth aside, he removes the clamps from my abused tits, both at the same time.

As the blood rushes back into my nipples, I scream at the pain. I want to reach for them, hold them, squeeze them. I need to apply pressure. And I almost do just that, my hands flying up.

But Silver bats my wrists out of the way before slapping both my tits in quick succession.

I cry harder, more tears running down my face.

My Master pulls my braid, so my head is forced back, and wipes my face again. “I know your nipples are burning, but you know better than to touch them.”

“Yes, Sir,” I choke out, still sobbing. My entire body is quivering from the cold and fear and shock.

I gasp when he holds the rubber bit up to my mouth. “Open.”

Uncontrollable weeping continues as he shoves the rubber between my teeth and fastens it to the back of my head.

He guides me onto my hands and knees. “I won’t go easy on you today, little slut. You need to know what your routine will be like. Now, kennel.”

More tears fall as I glance at the fucking cage. I crawl in that direction as if I weigh a ton, surprised that my arms and legs are taking instructions from my brain. I’m not sure they are. I think they’re taking instructions from Silver.

I can’t stop wailing as I crawl into the kennel, though my sounds are diminished by the gag. I’m so humiliated. Why is he doing this? Why is he like this?

And why the fuck am I letting him order me to do such degrading things? I could fight him. I could kick and scream and claw at him. I could probably even bite him. Instead, I obediently crawl into the dog kennel, turn around in the cramped space, lower to my welted bottom, and lift my wrists to the top of the bars.

While Silver reaches through to secure my arms up high, I spread my knees. My ugly crying continues as he straps my legs open before closing the cage door and locking it.

He walks away from me without a word.

I’m marginally aware of him eating his breakfast and then gathering the dishes. He leaves the room, locking the door.

I keep crying until I’m worn out and spent. Still trembling, I stare at the bottom of the cage between my legs. My bottom hurts from the fucking dilator stretching it. At least the welt on my ass is soothed by the cold metal floor. I grip the bars above me to hold on to something.