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Bought and Paid For

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XXVIII

She placed a soft kiss to his neck. He had stubble on his neck and face. If he wanted, he would grow an impressive beard. He hummed softly, indicating she was away. SFhe kissed his lips and ran her hand through his hair.

“Good morning,” she whispered.

“Good morning,” she murmured.

“You have your conference call this morning,” she reminded him. “It’s seven o’clock.”

She trailed kisses along his jaw.  

“I have the shower running. I’ll have coffee for you when you get out and your suit ready.”

He murmured again. She scratched his chin.

“You need a shave,” she told him. His eyes fluttered open.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“I’m going to go make some eggs and toast,” she told him. His arms went around her middle. His hands moved lower. He squeezed her bottom firmly. He ground her hips against his erection.

“After you take care of that for me,” he said. She nodded and he gently pushed her off of him. He got out from underneath her and she followed him into the bathroom. The water was running. He undressed and tested the water and then looped his fingers beneath her collar. He pulled her into the shower and pushed on her shoulders. She moved down her knees and reached for his erection. He leaned against the wall of the shower and closed his eyes. She wrapped her lips around his cock.

He stroked her face, before he grabbed her hair. He dictated her pace and how much of him she took in her mouth. She did her very best to bring him to completion quickly. She had a lot to do today and he had work to do before his conference call. Her master did not seem to want things to end quite so quickly.

He pulled her from his cock with a firm grip in her hair. He pulled her up and spun her around. He bent her over beneath the hot spray of the water. He was able to slid into her with ease. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but after seeing to him with her mouth, he never had problem fucking her directly afterward. She was always ready for him.

He slid into her from behind. His hands remained on her hips for a moment before they reached up to close around her breasts. He massaged them as he fucked her, groaning sleepily.

“Oh, fuck, ja,” he breathed. On of his hands went to her shoulder so he could fuck her harder. It wasn’t enough for him. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her waist. He hunched down and angled his hips.

“Oh, god, Master, I’m gonna… can I… please, can I?”

He readjusted them again so his hand was on her chin and he nose was pressed to her cheek. He fucked her up against the wall.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathed. An orgasm rippled through her and she bent her head back on his shoulder. His hand wet to wrap around her throat. He fucked her a few more moments before coming inside of her.

“Good girl,” he whispered. They kissed beneath the spray of the water, both beneath the hot spray of the water.

“I picked out the blue tie for you,” she whispered. She reached her arms back to touch his head. His hands pawed at her breasts and he ran his lips across her cheek. “I love how it makes your eyes look.”

He said nothing. His hands slid downward. His fingers slid into her.

“Master, breakfast…”

Halt die klappe,” he said. “Ich will dich wieder.”

A smile came to her face as he thrust inside of her again. He bent her back over and grabbed onto her hips. He fucked her hard. Despite the pleasure it did bring her, he made no attempt to see to her own satisfaction. He came again, and this time, after a few moments of silence and a slap on the bottom, ordered her to go make breakfast.

She hurried outside, laid out his suit, ran downstairs and got his coffee, brought it up to rest on his night stand and then hurried down to make dinner.

He walked downstairs, in his suit, his blue tie tied neatly, sipping at his coffee.

“After the conference call I’m going to go change. Have some fresh coffee for me.”

“Of course, Master,” she said and came forward with his plate of eggs and toast. “You look very handsome.”

He sighed.

“I don’t want to do this,” he said. “Two hours of a waste of time.” He picked up his form and began to eat. “Two hours I could be working on something meaningful.” 

She went toward the kitchen and began to clean up.

“What’s it on?”

“I have to spend two hours talking to that cunt of a woman.” He jabbed at the eggs on his plate. “And some idiot American about expansion into overseas markets. I can tell them how to expand into overseas markets and yet I have to sit here and listen to them give me their idiot ideas so I can put it into a report.”

She came closer with a glass of OJ. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into his lap.

“I’m going to wrinkle your suit,” she told him, but could not help but smile. He wrapped an arm around her and continued to eat. “I’d much rather have spent my morning in bed with you.”

“You’ll get through it,” she assured him. “And I’ll be out here, waiting for you when you get back.”

“Hmm,” he said. He wrapped his hand around her breast and closed his lips around her nipple. “Awaiting me eagerly, I expect.”

“Do you want anything special?” she asked. He had a few more bites of egg.

“Just be ready to see to whatever needs I might have when I come out,” he said.

“I will,” she promised, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Nine to eleven?”

He nodded and took a bite of toast.

“And fresh coffee at eleven-o-one.”

He grinned and took a sip of his coffee.

“Yes.”

“You need to go in and review your numbers,” she reminded him. He sighed and she gingerly ran a hair over his neatly combed and gelled hair. “You look so handsome,” she told him. “And you we both know you’re smarter than them. It’s just a game, and you’ll outsmart them and get what you want. You always do.”

She knew how to calm him down now. It was actually rather easy. Instinctively, she usually knew what he needed to hear, and when she gave him that, he was generous with his affection.

“I do get what I want,” he agreed. He looked up and she took the subtle invitation for a kiss and leaned down to place her mouth to his.

“Oh, it is hard to leave you and I’m right down the hall,” he grinned and gently patted her hip. She slid from his lap.

“I’ll miss you,” she said. He smiled and pulled her closer to him. “I do like when you have your conference calls though,” she admitted. She touched his tie. “You look so handsome in suits.”

“I think you just have a suit fetish,” he said, but he was smiling still. His eyes still looked tired. They stayed up late last night. He had put on a German show she liked. She had no interest in it, but he had started the conversation, and soon they were talking most of the night. She fell asleep with her head on his chest, talking to him softly.

“Maybe,” she smiled. “There’s nothing better than a man in a nice suit. Especially not one so handsome and successful.”

This was the difficult part. Sometimes he wanted to hear it. He wanted to know what she thought of his power, money, good looks and business success. Other times, he needed to hear that it was just him. The money, his business, his success, it didn’t matter. It was only him. Sometimes there were hints as to what he would prefer, but it was always a gamble. This time, she chose correctly.

“Hmm. Alright, I need to get to work. Make sure your chores are done. While I do enjoy punishing you, I’d rather have a nice afternoon.”

“I will.”

He kissed her again and then headed to his office. She had everything done by eleven, and waited anxiously for him to come out. When he did come out at 11:13, the coffee was made, hot and fresh. He shook his head as he walked down, looking incredibly normal as he unbuttoned his coat and tugged his tie loose.

“You asked me why I hated women once,” he said as he came around the island and took the coffee from her. “And I told you I loved them, they just needed to learn their place. Well let me tell you. After that, I think I do hate women.”

He took a large sip of coffee.

“Though obviously… not you,” he replied with a sideways smile.

“It did not go well then?” she asked. She removed his tie for him.

“No, it went fine. I got my way. Or I will. But that bitch.”

“You’ll win,” she reminded him. “Don’t let her ruin your day.”

He sighed and calmed himself.

“You’re right,” he said.

“Do you have a lot more work to do?”

“A bit. I have some clothing for you. Upstairs in my dresser, top drawer, a pair of swear pants for you, and a t-shirt,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He put it into the lock of her color and removed her color. She frowned. “Someone is going to be coming to the door around one o’clock. I want you to answer it. Ok?”

She nodded, but her heart was already pounding.

“Do I get you first? Or –”

“Just open the door,” he cut her off. He handed her the half empty coffee cup. She went to the maker and poured the cup of coffee. “Chores done?”

“I just have to clean the upstairs bathroom,” she answered.

“Alright, finish that up, get dressed, and you can read a little bit. No T.V. Understand?”

She nodded quickly.

“Good. I’m going to go change,” he said. She hurried off to the bathroom so she could finish her work and possibly take a nap before the person cam to the door. She was nervous about it. She didn’t know who to expect. It was obviously a friend of his. She did not know if she could take another visit like that of Dr. Elliot’s. Not right now. She would endure it, she trusted her master. Still, she was tense all day. Even when he kissed her and went back to work, and she headed upstairs to change, and finally, when she laid down in the living room to take a nap, she was tense, a bit nauseas, and could not relax.

The door bell jarred her from her stressful musings. She prayed as she walked. It just couldn’t be Ulrich. That terrible man from before. She didn’t even really want it to be Elliot. She had liked him… kind of… but she didn’t want to deal with others. She wanted to stay here forever, with just her master.

She took a deep breath, put her hand on the handle. The door bell rang again and she opened the door. The man smiled, gave a nod, and spoke to her in German.

Guten Tag, Fraulein,” he greeted. “I have the delivery for you.”

“Oh um, fr Ma-Mas-Mx? Maximilian Furst?”

“He checked his clipboard. “Ja. That’s it.”

“That’s my boyfriend,” she said, licking her bottom lip. She played with the bottom of her t-shirt a moment. “Come in and I’ll go get him.”

He stepped inside and looked around appreciatively. Just as she turned to go to her master’s office, she found him coming down the hall with a smile.

“Ah, Guten Tag. Ja, Ja, danke,” he said. He looked to her with a smile and put a kiss to her lips. “Do I have to sign.”

“Yes, right here. You’re from America right? Canadian maybe? Sounds American,” the delivery man said with a smile. He seemed like a jovial man. A bit heavy, rosy cheeks, but a happy smile.

She glanced at her master, but he had his eyes down, scribbling his signature. She looked back to the delivery man.

“Oh, Yes. I’m from Montana,” she lied.

“Montana? I’ve never heard of that state.” The delivery man had a crease in her brow. Her master looked up as he handed the clipboard back, a knowing twinkle in his eyes, a proud, smug lift to his lips. “That’s down by texas?”

“It’s north west, kind of. Up by Canada,” she explained. “Oh, you know California? So then there’s Washington and Oregon,” she demonstrated with her hands. “And then there’s… it’s a state, and then Montana. And Canada is right here.”

He nodded with an excited smile.

“Very nice. I love the accent,” he said with a grin.

“Thank you,” she smiled, though she wanted to tell him she was from Delaware. She had a Delaware accent when she spoke German. Not a Montana accent.

“Do you need help bringing it in?” her master asked.

“Oh, No. Its not too big. You have a spot ready for it?”

“I do,” he answered. The man nodded and tugged the clipboard beneath his arm.

“I’ll be right in with it.”

He disappeared out the door.

“What is it?” she asked, rubbing her arms. It was cold outside. He put his hands over her arms, warming her.

“It’s a surprise,” he smiled. She grabbed the front of his sweater and tugged.

“What is it?”

“Making demands?” he asked, teasing gently.

“Please,” she whispered.

“You’re a good girl, you know,” he told her. She grinned and tilted her head back. He took the invitation and gave her a kiss.

The delivery man came back up the steps grunting.

“Eh, might need your help, sir!”

Her master pulled back, sighed, and went to the closet to quickly slip on his boots. She saw it as her master walked out the door and he turned his head to see her face. A large, genuine smile came to his face.

The two carried the Christmas tree into the living room. She smiled brightly, following them in.

“One moment. I’ll go get the stand,” the delivery man said. They leaned the tree up against the wall. The delivery man hurried out to get the stand.

“You got me a Christmas tree,” she grinned. He put his hands on her waist. “You got me a tree.”

“You wanted one,” he answered. She put her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered. He smiled.

“I take care of my girl,” he answered softly. “I told you… I can be loving or cruel. It’s your choice.”

She got up on her tip toes and kissed him.

The delivery man walked in with a brig crate, the stand resting on top. She examined it and then looked at her master in some confusion.

“What’s a Christmas tree without decoration?”

She all but squealed in excitement. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again.

“While we set this up you go and find out what we’re having for dinner.”

“Ok,” she smiled. She wanted to say “yes, master,” but knew better. She gave him a look, hoping he understood what she meant, and then went on her way into the kitchen, a bright smile plastered across her face.


“How’d you manage to snag that,” the delivery man asked with a smile, setting the tree into place. Max looked at him, momentarily not quite sure what he was asking. He soon recognized the glimmer in the man’s eye and followed the jab of his chin toward his little slave. Max was torn between pride and anger. An incredibly rude thing to ask, yet Max chose to embrace his pride instead of his anger.

“Can’t give away my secrets, now can I?” he responded lightly. The man grunted as he slid the tree into the stand. He stood with an appreciative smile and jabbed his chin toward the kitchen where Jessica was scurrying to complete her task.

“Lucky you. What is she… twenty years younger?” the man asked. Max was unsure why the man thought such chummy behavior was appropriate. They were in no way friends, in no way equals, but his pride got the better of him once again, that damnable ego driving him forward.

“Just thirteen,” he answered.

“Lucky number thirteen,” the man laughed. “Well good for you, man. If I was half as handsome and half as rich I might have myself with a girl half as beautiful.”

The man slapped Max on the shoulder. A small smile was one Max’s face. He ignored the sting that the man thought he was so much older than he was. Jessica was young, youthful looking, but in no way looked to be in her teens. The only possible explanation is that this man believed him to be well into his forties. He was going to have to speak to Jessica about that later.

“Just sign here one more time?” the man asked. Max signed his name and walked the delivery man to the door. He thanked him again, waved his hand, and locked the door tightly behind him. He walked through the kitchen on his way to his study. Jessica was reading the cookbook intently, but looked up when he entered the room. He gave a motioned of his hand to tell her she could remain on her feet and walked over to her.

He stood behind her wrapping his arms around her middle and pressed her back into him. He looked over her shoulder at the cookbook.

“We have the ingredients for this and this,” she told him, flipping between two recipes. He considered, pressing his nose into her hair and breathing deeply.

“You pick pet. I’m content with both,” he answered. She nodded and flipped between the two.

“What time do you want to eat?” she asked. He smiled and kissed her neck. Such a good girl. Even when the choice was hers, his needs were her determining factors.

“How about four?” he mused. “And after we can decorate the tree.”

She squirmed and turned in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he embraced her waist warmly.

“I love you,” she told him. “Obey, serve, please, trust, worship, love.”

He touched her cheek and looked at her mouth. It was almost frightening, the crippling need he had for this woman. She made him weak. The thought of losing her threatened to send him into frenzy every time he considered it, and with each passing day, as his love for her grew, it seemed like an ever more likely scenario.

“Master?” she asked softly. His eyes darted back up to hers. “You went away from me again.”

Her voice was gentle and she ran a hand through his hair.

“My thoughts get the better of me sometimes,” he admitted. He was obsessive. He knew that. It was not something he thought was negative. He had very few negative traits and in fact, if asked to name them, he would come up empty. His obsessive nature was what brought him such success in life, it was what brought him Jessica, but sometimes, those thoughts threatened to take hold of it, and it sent him into a dark place.

“There is nothing to worry about right now,” she comforted. “Just to finish your work and come back to me so I can soothe you.”

She ran her hands down the side of his face and neck and lay them to rest on his shoulders.

“Maybe a nice massage after dinner? A foot rub?”

He saw her on her knees, naked but for her color, gently kneading at his feet, devotion in her eyes as she looked up at him. Now, he had a much better image to focus on as he worked.

“I quite like the sound of that,” he answered. He pinched her chin and brought his mouth to hers. He reached around her and picked up her collar. He slowly placed it back around her neck, relishing in the feeling. He let out a soft, but deep breath as he clicked the lock back into place. He caressed the tag that marked her as his. Bought and paid for, signed, sealed, delivered. He had nothing to worry about. This one wasn’t getting away from him and he’d never sell her. He’d kill her before he let another man touch her.

“Dinner at four,” he told her, releasing the tag.

“Yes, Master,” she said. She took his hand and brought it to her lips. She smiled at him as he pulled away.

“Be a good girl,” he ordered and walked back into his office. She bothered him only once the rest of the day. He was on the phone with the CEO discussing a possible merger with a smaller software company. She was very quiet, waiting for him, and then revealed a sizable cut on her thumb she had received cutting onions.

He put his CEO on speaker, and without missing a beat, and without a single peep from her, cleaned up the gash and applied a butterfly strip through it. For a moment, when he saw her walk in with the hand in the bloody rag, he feared stitches would be necessary. He was not sure what he would do in that situation. He could not stitch someone up nor did he have the materials. The closest doctor he could bring her too was three countries over, and he couldn’t yet trust her in a hospital. But upon closer inspection and to his great relief, the cut was not so severe, although she did do quite a number on herself.

“Be more careful,” he scolded softly as he sent her back out the door to take some pain medicine from the cabinet. Once his phone call was over, he went out to check on her and found her dutifully, although somewhat comically, continuing to cook.

“How on earth?” he asked, coming around the island.

“I’m so sorry, master, I was burning the sauce and tried to finish cutting as fast as I could and I –”

“I’m not angry,” he calmed her down and took her injured hand. He brought the finger up to his lips to give a kiss. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

She smiled at him and he placed another kiss to her thumb. Some blood was already seeping through the outer bandage. He shook his head.

“Does it hurt badly?”

“A little bit,” she admitted. “The pain medicine helped.”

He nodded and kissed her forehead.

“Be careful now,” he told her. “I want you in one piece when I come back out.”

“Yes, Master,” she said and he moved to return to his office. “Master?”

He paused and turned with elevated eyebrows.

“You’re a good master. The best.”

She said it with a shy little smile and he saw the beautiful sight of an undamaged, obedient woman. Somehow, he had managed to force her obedience and servitude, without breaking the woman she was. His emotions threatened to get the better of him again and was rushed with the need to dominate her. He wanted to hold her down and rape her and make her feel how deep his ownership ran. Beyond the physical and mental and emotional. He owned her soul and her heart.

“Back to work,” he said instead, face untouched by his feelings. She obeyed without a word.

When he next left his office the house smelled divine with only the slightest hint of burnt food. It brought a smile to his face and he was unwillingly reminded of that poor girl that had burned Ulrich’s Christmas dinner. His stomach flipped but he pushed it down. Jessica was still in her shirt and sweatpants, finishing dinner anxiously.

 

“I burned the bread,” she said, holding up her bandaged hand and scurrying around the island. “But only the sides here. So if you eat this piece and I can just cut around it… or I can put the others in. They’ll be ready super quick, I just didn’t know if I was allowed to and I didn’t want to bother you, but it’s not that bad I don’t think –”

 

“Hush,” he scolded, putting his hands on her slender waist. “It looks perfect.”

 

She smiled and looked over at the food.

 

“How close are we to Christmas?” she asked.

 

“About ten days,” he answered, jabbing his finger into a steaming bowl of stew. He tasted it and hummed in appreciation. “Delicious.”

 

He released her and walked toward the sliding door. He peaked out the blinds and smiled.

 

“Set the table,” he ordered without taking his eyes away from the view. She hurried to obey. ”Have you been snacking?”

 

She had a habit of sneaking food throughout the day. He didn’t mind. She wasn’t gaining weight. But any amount of defiance or autonomy on her part frightened him. He couldn’t bear it if she regressed now and he had to go back to harsh discipline and humiliation. It might destroy them.

 

“I had some of the bread and a few bites of beef,” she admitted anxiously. He could almost feel her anxiety.

 

He nodded.

 

“Come here,” he ordered. She came over hesitantly, clearly thinking she was going to be punished, but she had been honest so he would let it go. To keep her balanced, she could not be afraid of every little thing she did. That was how you got a zombie, a mindless robot, too afraid to ever be able to love. Love was rooted on respect and trust first and foremost. And he did not think you could respect or love what you feared absolutely. “I want to show you something.”

 

He placed her in front of him and slowly pulled the blinds. His back porch offered a breath-taking view of the alps, and as the first flurries of snow were beginning to come down, it was a magnificent sight. She gasped softly, staring in wonder. He smiled, more entranced by his sweet little slave than any mountain.

 

“That’s amazing,” she breathed.

 

“I think we can leave the blinds open, hmm. You won’t go running from me?”

 

“Never,” she answered, turning from the view to embrace him. She wrapped her arms around his middle, chin pressed to his chest as she smiled at him. “I love you.”

 

He bent down and kissed her nose. He applied a light smack to her bottom.

 

“Dinner on the table.”

 

She left his arms in a moment. He would never get tired of watching a woman obey an order so readily. It would never cease to bring him that warped burst of pleasure that pooled in his chest.

 

He took his seat and pulled out his phone.

 

“What would you like to drink?”

 

“I’ll have a beer. Drink what you want,” he answered. He looked through his phone for Elliot’s message.

 

She sat down beside him once the table was finished and waited. He tapped his plate and said nothing eyes still on the phone. She began serving his food.

 

He found the message, wrote out a response, deleted it, and then put the phone in his pocket.

 

“How was work?” she asked. “It sounded important.”

 

He rubbed his eyes. “Oh yes. We’ve been looking into buying or merging with a smaller software company. Smaller than us, but with a strong foothold in their region. With our resources and their leads, we would double in size by this time next year.”

 

“That’s exciting!” she said. “How does that work?” She laughed anxiously. “I don’t really know a whole lot about software or business.”

 

He smiled, pleased with her interest, and began to explain in more depth what he did. She seemed genuinely intrigued and did not once show any sign of boredom. They spoke through dinner, though he dominated the conversation with his response to her questions. The awe he saw in her gaze as he explained his responsibilities kept him quite happy, even as he nibbled on burnt bread.

 

Once finished, and after some lavish praise on her cooking, he took his phone out again and he walked into the living room. As Jessica cleaned up he wrote out another message. This time he punched send. He plopped down on the couch, dropped the phone on his chest, and sighed. He rubbed his forehead, mind racing.

 

“There’s my girl,” he said when he heard her enter the room. She knelt down before him, beside the ottoman his feet were resting on. He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb.

 

“How may I serve you, Master?”

 

“Hmm, how about that foot rub?”

 

She smiled and moved to the end of the ottoman. Gently, she kneaded at his sock clad feet. She was lucky. He was a clean man, he was meticulous about his hygiene. She kneaded gently, at his feet. She did a fine job at massages, her skill left nothing lacking, but it was always the sight of her at his feet, so obediently seeing to his needs, that brought him the most pleasure.

 

He flipped on a game, sipped at his beer, and enjoyed the sight of her at his feet. Once satisfied with his massage, he beckoned her closer. He relished at the speed in which she crawled up onto the couch and laid beside him, legs stretching out across the ottoman. A reward for a job well done. He loved her eagerness.

 

“How about you go make some hot chocolate, I’ll find a Christmas movie, and we decorate the tree? Hmm?”

 

Her face lit up and she nodded. With one more smack to her bottom, he jerked his head and sent her on her way. He remained where he was and flipped through the channels. His blood was pulsing, but he didn’t quite have an erection. He had worked himself hard that morning.

 

He continued to flip through the menu. He called, “do you like the old movies?”

 

“Traditional!” she called, and was suddenly present, sliding into side on the wood floor. “Rudolf, Frosty, a year without a Santa clause, the Grinch who stole Christmas. A Christmas Carole - oh! I do really like A Miracle on 34th Street! It’s a wonderful Life! That’s my favorite!”

 

He shook his head and chuckled. He knew the movies, but oh so American.

 

He selected It’s a Wonderful Life and queued it up. She had a habit of giving him options, even when he told her she could choose. She always made sure the choice was ultimately up to him. He always had the final say. He felt another rush of contentment. Never had he had such peace in his life.

 

She came back in, carefully holding the hot chocolate. She placed it down and waited.

 

“Go on then,” he said. “I’m content to watch.” 

 

She smiled and went over to the crate of decorations he had ordered. He took comfort in how happy such a simple thing had made her. The cost was negligible, the inconvenience minimal. The last time he had a tree in his home, he had been a little boy, and he’d decorated with his mother.

 

“That gold one is too close to the other,” he pointed out. She saw it and moved it carefully. She looked back at him. He gave a single nod. She smiled.

 

“I used to love to decorate. We would get the tree right after thanksgiving. After we brought it home, my dad would –”

 

“Jessica,” he cut her off gently, but sternly. Her voice cut off immediately and she looked at him anxiously. “This is your home now. Your life before me does not matter. Understand?”

 

He feared that if she dwelled on her life before she might regress, remember what she had been taken from and desire to return. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He was her world now. Anything besides him should not matter.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. She was very sensitive to scoldings. Even gentle scoldings.

 

“Just remember who I am and what I mean to you.”

 

“My master and my world. My whole world,” she repeated. Her eyes were a bit wide, eyes wet, and he realized why she was so shaken. She was terrified he would grow angry and decide the decorating could wait or that she did not deserve it. “I’m sorry, Master.”

 

“Hey,” he said softly, a smile on his lips. He got up from his chair and stopped before her. His hands took hold of her cheeks, his thumbs stroking the soft skin. “I’m not mad at you.”

 

Her small hands wrapped around his wrists and she gave a timid smile. He moved his hands and wrapped them around her waist, holding her closer to him.

 

“I love my girl,” he told her. He was careful with how often he told her that. Women were skilled at taking that powerful and vulnerable emotion and twisting it into something unbearable painful. “But a master is supposed to guide his slave, right? That’s all I’m doing.”

 

“Thank you,” she replied softly. She leaned forward and placed a kiss to his lips.

 

“Now,” he said, bending down and taking a bulb. He placed it on the tree. “Let’s get this tree decorated and watch the movie. You’ll get the fluffy blanket from upstairs and we’ll cuddle for the afternoon.”

 

Her smiled was one of the brightest she possessed.

 

“Did um… did you have Christmas traditions?” she asked, unsure if that was an acceptable question.

 

“I’m not going to talk about that,” he answered rather brusquely. She nodded and fell silent. He watched her put a Christmas ornament on the tree, looking rather unsure and dejected. “After my mother left,” he told her, voice gentler, “my father never bothered. I had girlfriends that had trees. I would sometimes decorate with their families, but… the last time I decorated a tree with my family I was… eleven I think.”

 

“I can’t picture you with a girlfriend,” she mused. He looked over sharply. “I mean, obviously girls would want to be with you,” she explained, coming closer and touching his arm as she put on the next bulb. “But you going out on dates and being a boyfriend and not a master. It seems wrong.”

 

He nodded, unoffended by the clarification. He looked through the crate for another ornament.

 

“I met Ulrich when I was nineteen at an underground BDSM club in Berlin. He sat down next to me after a demonstration of a woman being whipped and raped by a number of men. It was all staged of course. She was quite willing. He lamented that it wasn’t real. That the cries of a real woman, truly at a man’s mercy and unable to escape…were so very different. I asked if he’d ever heard it. He was careful, obviously, but he knew I understood. That it wasn’t enough. It needed to be real. We went back to his hotel, where he had a girl there, a young prostitute, they never go to the police… That was the first time that I treated a woman the way they deserved to be treated.”

 

He paused, examining the bulb. Jessica listened intently, carefully placing the next ornament on the tree.

 

“She was scared. She cried,” he remembered. “She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, but… I was only nineteen,” he reminded her. “Ulrich was… Jesus… twenty-five. He’s always liked them a bit on the young side. Sweet little French girl. Probably dead now….”

 

He bent back down for the next bulb, concentration broken.

 

“When did you start buying slaves?” she asked. He wasn’t sure if it was a question she should ask or if he should discipline her for it, but he was not angered by it, and he had shut down most other avenues of conversation. Besides, Jessica was different. She would be his forever. He’d never part from her. Easy conversations needed to take place.

 

“Ulrich, he found Belko first on the dark web. Took a chance and went to check out what he had. Belko has most of his used girls just online, transaction over the internet, middlemen deliver, no trace. That’s how we started. I would mostly pay for time with his girls. Bought my first when I was about twenty-eight. Megan. She was Irish. Green eyes and strawberry blond hair. Very cute. Her whimpers used to drive me insane…” he remembered fondly.

 

“Well why get rid of her then,” Jessica asked, venom dripping from her voice. His first reaction was to hit her for daring to use that tone on him, but with a single glance at her his lips curved upward. He reached out and seized her hair in a painful grip and yanked her toward him. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him in fear. He just smiled down at her, a cold, smug smile of amusement.

 

“Because she was like every other woman on this planet,” he answered. “Arrogant, vapid, disobedient, ignorant, ill-mannered, foolish, short-sighted, simple, deceitful, insincere… I can go on, Jessica. Do you want to me to go on, Jessica?”

 

“No, Master,” she whispered and his smile widened.

 

“No, Master,” he repeated with a whisper. His hand tightened in her hair and she grimaced slightly, but arched her neck the way he wanted it. He leaned down, but merely hovered his mouth above hers. He pulled back a fraction and spit slowly onto her mouth. He raised his other hand and caressed the saliva into her lips with his thumb. “Now, apologize to me for using that tone.”

 

“I’m sorry, Master,” she breathed. As her lips parted and she spoke the tip of his thumb went into her mouth. Once finished, she closed her lips around his thumb.

 

“Good girl. Now apologize for being jealous of a girl vastly inferior to you,” he ordered. Her lips curved as they opened around his thumb.

 

“I’m sorry, Master.”

 

“Good girl,” he said and released her. She patted her aching scalp and licked her lips. She knew better than to wipe his spittle away. “I sold her after two years. Her disposition was displeasing. She couldn’t cook, she rarely spoke to me, and she was fresh. Sold her at a loss actually. First offer,” he snapped his fingers, “got that ungrateful cunt out of me house. Lenka was my last slave before you. Turned into a whore with minimal effort. Once she was trained, she didn’t care who touched her… a woman who worships a man, cannot stomach another having his way with her. Then I dated. Women will do what you want when you have the money I do. Tie me up, of course, now how about a new pair of boots from Gucci….”

 

“You weren’t dating the right girls,” Jessica informed him. “I never understood fashion.”

 

He chuckled.

 

“It’s not just that,” he explained. “It’s the sound… it’s different. It’s… it’s everything.”

 

“I think I understand,” she answered. She stepped closer as she found a spot for the next bulb. “They didn’t deserve you.”

 

“And do you?” he asked. She looked up.

 

“I try to,” she answered.

 

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he answered. She made to protest but he put his hand on her back and gently tugged her closer. He kissed her softly on the mouth. He whispered against her lips. “The sounds you made, the first time I raped you….” He kissed her again and pulled back.

 

“Will you put the angel on top?” she asked with a smile, taking it from the box. “You should do it. It’s always the man of the house.”

 

He took the angel and smoothed out her dress. She watched happily as he reached up and placed it on top of the tree. She hurried over and turned the lights on. It had come pre-wrapped. They backed away to look at it and she wrapped her arms around his middle.

 

“I love it,” she smiled. He only nodded, a little curve to his lips.

 

“Go get the blanket,” he ordered. She hurried to obey. He plopped down in his favorite spot and took a sip of hot chocolate. She came back the blanket it her arms. She turned off the lights to the room without his permission, but she moved around with such excitement he did not have it in him to even scold her. The tree lit up the room, and she scurried up next to him. He relished the feel of her cuddling up to him beneath the blanket. She pressed her face to his chest and he played the movie.

 

“Master,” she whispered just as the movie began.

 

“Mmhm?” he asked.

 

“I forgot to turn the fire place on,” she told him.

 

“You can put it on,” he answered, thinking she was looking for permission.

 

“But I’m nice and warm now,” she replied after a few moments.

 

“Ah,” he mused. “So it’s me that needs to get up and cross the room.”

 

She bit her bottom lip and turned her eyes up toward him. He sighed and tossed the blanket off of him. She giggled and he took the blanket, pulling it from her completely. She gasped and giggled as he crossed the room with, turned on the fire place, and walked back toward her.

 

“That was mean,” she scolded with a smile.

 

“I’m a mean man,” he answered, wrapped her back in the blanket and holding her close to him. “And I have to put up with a fresh little slave.”

 

She pressed herself closer to him.

 

“I love my mean master,” she told him. He looked down at her.

 

“I’m trying to watch a movie,” he said. She giggled again.

 

How’d you manage to snag that? he remembered as he looked into her twinkling eyes. I wanted her and I took her, he thought, happily. And I made her mine.

 

He slid his hand down her back and squeezed an ass cheek hard. He patted her and looked back at the screen. She settled in against him again, resting her face on his chest.

 

His phone buzzed and he reached into his pocket. He read the text from Elliot and typed out a response. His thumb hesitated above the send button before he finally tapped it. His friend responded a moment later.

 

“Good news, slave,” he told her. “We’re going to Hungary for Christmas.”

 

She glanced up apprehensively.

 

“I’m sure you’re anxious to see Elliot again?”

 

“Yes, Master,” she said softly. Her arms tightened him. She put her head back down, cheek on his chest.

 

“My friends will love you,” he said, rubbing her back gently. There was pause.

 

“Friends?”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

Her hand slid beneath his shirt and rested on his stomach.

 

“My good girl,” he smiled and gently pulled her closer. She snuggled closer to him. He felt her tense up. Her breathing was a bit labored. She was whispering something softly. He grabbed her hair and arched her head back gently. “What was that?”

 

“I trust my master,” she whispered a bit more loudly. He smiled and kissed her one more time.

 

“I’ll take good care of you,” he promised. “I’ll protect you.”

 

“I trust you,” she said again. “Good. Head down, watch the movie.”

 

She obeyed. If possible, her arms tightened around him either further. He watched the rest of the movie with a smile on his face.