Master B-0077

Had I thought Ashlee had lived a comfortable life in her small Texas town? I did, and only because I’d taken what I’d seen outside of the white picket fence and invented a story of my own. The house was nice. The blonde little girl who I knew was my half-sister was smiling. Laughing. She was beautiful and so full of happiness. I naturally assumed that with her living there, the house had belonged to her parents. I should have known my father didn’t do anything more with them as he’d done with me and my mom. The man was a ghost. A good-for-nothing I dreamed of someday killing. That was, if I could ever find him. He deserved to pay for cursing our two families with such hardship. Ashlee and I didn’t ask for what happened to us, but there was nothing anyone could do about it now. It all took place, and now I had a nephew out of it. I was an uncle.

No, not really. Not yet. Titles didn’t exist in these walls. Neither did people who didn’t reside within them. No little boy. Not while I was at the Gardens. Out there…he was family. Real family, like I hadn’t had in years. I could check up on him. I could help him if I wanted. Did I want to? God…I did. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t deny the needs I kept trying to push away. The wants…Ones I never thought were a possibility. But it didn’t matter right now. I wouldn’t think about the boy. Not yet. I had to focus on her.

Down here, it was just me and Miss Perfect. Master and slave. Not even half brother and sister. I refused to see that status. It was just us, and whatever I wanted to do to her, which probably wasn’t anything good. Just because I didn’t like some sicko touching her didn’t mean I’d had a change of heart. Ashlee was still going to hurt with me. Maybe I’d even kill her. I didn’t like her past, but that shit occurred every day. It transpired here by the hour. Bad shit sure as fuck happened to me while I was trying to take care of myself. She was lucky I’d given her this much time, wasn’t she? I wasn’t responsible for her rape because I ran from her instead of being a good big brother and actually staying in touch or being there…right? Fuck. I wouldn’t think about that either. Not her, not me, or how our lives were full of people hurting us. I wouldn’t think about anything at all.

Silence reigned as I went in and out of sleep on the sofa while the women kneeled. Hours passed. It felt good to doze with the awareness of the new tattooed mark from the dead slave added to the tally on my forearm. I liked it even more that I’d gotten it here at the Gardens. That they catered to me made this place even more real. Better than home. To know I could get inked up at any time and then split their skin was invigorating. This place was great. Tattoos and death. Nothing was better than that. Or…maybe something was.

My cock hardened just thinking about it. Prey. The word repeated as I listened to the dark hair girl shift the weight from her knees. Were they anticipating my next move? Were they wondering how long it would be before I decided to take one of their lives? After last night and the aftermath of this morning, absolutely. But it was hard to think too much on that as the all-too familiar prickling pull to numb out returned between consciousness. To sleep gave me relief. To be awake and aware, now that was something I’d avoided for years. If I wasn’t working, I didn’t know what to do. Most often it led to thought, to my past and lonely life. To the festering hole that wouldn’t go away. That only sent the looping of my thoughts back to Ashlee and Kyle. They were part of me even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

My eyes opened as I debated to grab a drink. The back of little Miss Perfect’s head was level with my foot as she stared at the dark wall. I took in the column of her neck and how it met her ivory shoulders. Her breasts were high, pushing into the nearly see-through slip. She almost looked better to the side. Even her profile was flawless. I almost couldn’t believe this is what she’d turned into. The resemblance to the child I saw, to me, was as clear as day, but I never imagined this. She was perfection. Everyone at the auction had seen that.

“Did I have beer in the fridge? Something harder? Bottles anywhere?”

I sat. The dark-haired slave who kneeled off to my side turned to look towards the kitchen. Her mouth opened and she glanced back at me, worry covering her face.

“I’m not sure, Master. I can check for you.”

“There’s no beer. Just bottles in the pantry. Vodka, Gin, and I believe Whiskey.” Ashlee kept her stare forward. “Second shelf from the top.”

Should I be impressed? The emotion was one I quickly pushed back.

“Whiskey.”

Ashlee went to stand, but my hand clamped to her shoulder, pushing her back down. “Not you, Miss Perfect. Slave,” I yelled out as the dark-haired girl looked at me. “You, bring me the Whiskey.”

She jumped to her feet as I loosened my hold to slide to the back of her neck. At my pull, Ashlee followed my lead, crawling until she was now kneeling between my legs, still facing the wall. Blonde was bright against my black jeans, and I didn’t hold back from picking up strands of the silky length to let it slide between my fingers.

“Miss Perfect. That’s what I’m going to call you. Did you memorize everything in there?”

“I tried, Master.”

Her voice was shaking just as much as her body as I continued to run my digits through the tresses.

“What about the bathroom? You knew to bring me something for my headache. I’m assuming you went through all the stuff in there too?”

“I wasn’t…trying to appear nosey.” She paused. “I was trained for this sort of thing. To learn. To know where everything is so I can be prepared. I was just trying to help.”

“Help. Yes, you’re trying so hard.”

I trailed down the side of her cheek, working my way down until my hand was covering her throat and cupping under her jaw. Her pulse was racing against me as I tilted her head back so that she’d have to look up at me. When my other hand settled on her chest and began to lower, the shaking grew more powerful.

“Fear.” My lips pulled back to the side in a half smile as I brushed her cleavage, moving in to tease over her nipple. Pressure registered against the hold I had to her face, and my grip only tightened as I rolled the nub between my fingers.

“Master.”

“Shh.”

The other slave came to kneel a few feet away with the bottle. I didn’t so much as break my gaze from Ashlee’s as I moved to her other breast. A small, panicked sound left her, and my lids lowered through her mounting anxiety. If there was ever a fight or flight response, my half-sister was walking along its edge at my touch.

“Were there other men after your rape? Did you date? Try to find your son a daddy?”

Another little whimper as I leaned forward, moving my path between her ribs. Resistance grew at the hand that held her face, but she froze as my lips leveled with her cheek.

“Answer me, Miss Perfect. How many other men were in this pussy before you came here?”

“N-None, Master.”

Tears broke free at her admission, getting my own face wet as I rubbed my mouth and cheek against her soft skin.

“Not even once?”

“No…Colt Douglas tried talking to me a few times, but I never went out with him. I had to work. I had a son to take care of. Men are—” A sob cut her off. “Let me kneel. I won’t say a word.”

“Men are what?”

For some reason, I found myself kissing against the tears. Kissing and trying to sooth on a level I hadn’t reached since my mother was alive. Hadn’t I given her affection when she seemed overwhelmed? Upset and closed off? I’d tried, but she didn’t care much for bonding. For touch. Ashlee didn’t have that option. She couldn’t push me away, although she was trying. That only made me want to do it even more.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“Men are liars. They’re not to be trusted.”

“Yes, I agree.” My shoulder shifted as I reached further down, letting the pads of my fingers settle over the top of her slit. I turned her face away from me, moving to kiss just behind her ear and hairline as I teased her clit. “You were smart to see that so early. Most men are pigs. They’re vile. Self-centered. You don’t have to worry about that anymore; you have me. Here, you know exactly what you’re getting. The worst of the worst. Maybe the sickest man of all. You were well prepared.” I let go, sitting up as I reached for the bottle. “Now, take off that slip and go back to your spot.”

Ashlee sniffled, standing and letting the thin dress slide down her curvy body. My fist tightened around the bottle as I soaked in every inch. Wrong or not, I was past the point of caring. She was a slave, a body, and she belonged to me. That’s where it ended. Any emotion or twisted craving I felt was becoming more of a bonus by the minute. I was accepting this situation. Even…liking the idea of it.

“Hey.” My head shook as the dark-haired slave tried to sneak away. “Your fun’s just beginning. Slip off. I want you on the floor,” I pointed in front of me, “legs spread. I want a show and you’re going to give me one.”

Brown eyes darted to Ashlee, only to come back to me. She swallowed hard, letting the dress slowly lower just under her large breasts. Although she listened, the way she looked at me was something I recognized immediately. This girl may have been terrified, but she couldn’t hide the starstruck dazzle deep in her depths. She knew who I was, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Every second that my dick gets softer, your neck gets closer to meeting my knife. On your ass and spread your fucking legs.”

She shoved the slip down. I rolled my neck on my shoulders, easing back against the sofa to relax and enjoy my Whiskey. Shaky legs spread wide, and the girl’s fingers twitched and trembled over her pussy. Despite any awe she felt at knowing my identity, she wasn’t comfortable so exposed. I chugged back some of the amber liquid, wincing as I swallowed.

“Better.” I took another drink. “But not good enough.”

Something between a deep groan and cry filled the space as her lids squeezed shut. Her speed slowed, and a broken-up breath left her as she made a path down to circle her entrance.

“Lick your finger and keep doing that. But open your fucking eyes and look at me. If you close yourself off again, you won’t get another chance.”

“Yes, M-Master.”

Full lips enveloped her digit, and she went back, circling and dipping into herself. Straight hair swayed as she shifted and bit against her bottom lip. A good few minutes passed as her breathing began to change. My smile was automatic while I continued to chug back the liquor.

“Finally.”

I glanced over, immediately feeling the darkness in me stir. Ashlee’s cheeks were rosy, and her stare was stuck on the wall. Although she was still, her finger tapped nervously against her leg telling me her thoughts were probably racing.

“You don’t want to enjoy the show? You do. You know you want to. Watch.”

“I don’t.” Her head jerked to me full of unease. “But...I will if that’s what my Master wants.”

I growled, locking to her bicep to jerk her to sit on my lap. “You think that’s going to save your ass from talking back to begin with? You have a temper.”

Pushing the bottle to Ashlee, I watched as she took a drink, cringing as she tried to force it down.

“More.”

Whiskey dribbled over her chin and her face drew in as she sent blonde hair flying through the shake. She didn’t like it, but she obeyed.

“Again.”

Coughing filled the space at the continued gulps, and I laughed, grabbing the bottle to bring back to my lips. Half was already gone, and the weight of the world was lifting…easing from me as I put down the Whiskey and wrapped my arms around Ashlee. Her ass was right up against my hard cock, and she was so warm against me. On fire as I pulled her back against my chest.

“You’re so damn stiff. Relax. Watch.” I fitted her legs over the sides of mine, spreading them as I widened my own. I exhaled against her neck, keeping my attention on the slave who was pushing her finger deep in her pussy. “Beautiful, isn’t it? She’s getting so wet.” I lowered one hand to grab to her thigh. “Are you, Miss Perfect? Do you secretly like what you’re seeing?”

“I don’t feel comfortable. This is…a lot.”

“But it’s just us. No one else can see. Give it a few minutes. You’re going to love this.”

My fingers twitched, remaining in position only inches from the one thing I shouldn’t have wanted. Shouldn’t…but did. I let the alcohol do its job, not having to wait more than a few minutes before Ashlee sunk into my body, making herself comfortable. The slave on the floor was breathing hard, moaning out through the teasing of her clit. My hand slid up, not quite touching. Air got trapped in her lungs and the moment she breathed in, I let my fingertips brush over her folds almost nonexistent. I hovered, making contact, but only in small bursts.

“I knew you’d like this. Men aren’t only liars, you know. They’re good for some things.”

“Like this, Master?”

Whether there was sarcasm in her tone or not, I wasn’t sure. I grabbed the bottle making her take more drinks before I downed even more, myself. When I leaned to return the bottle, a laugh exploded from Ashlee as she fell over. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she seemed to catch her mistake. The fact that my smile was genuine had me smacking her ass and spinning her on my lap so that she had to straddle and face me.

“Look how cute and giggly you are when you’re drunk. Adorable. Let’s change that, shall we?”

My hand cupped her face as Ashlee’s expression melted into one of uncertainty. “How do you want me to be, Master?”

“I’m not sure yet. Angry. Afraid. I haven’t decided. Move against me.”

I bucked my hips sending Ashlee rocking forward. As I used my other hand to show her the motions, my lids closed, basking in the pleasure.

“There we go.” I paused, glancing to the other slave on the floor. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Yes, Master.”

I went back to Ashlee, lowering my voice. “What if I had a secret?”

“A…bad secret? About you?”

Pulling her face to mine, I kept my stare locked to hers. My tongue slid over her lips, and she let out a breath, gripping to my t-shirt as she took over the motions of sliding against me. I was so fucking hard I couldn’t stand it. “Maybe. Maybe it’s about both of us. Do you want to know my secret? Do you think you can handle it? I’m not so sure you can.”