Present Tense (Out of the Fire #3) - Candace Blevins Page 0,58

— and whether she’d like it or hate it.

Twenty minutes later, Eunice was impressed that Kelsey managed to focus on the game while he fucked his little cunt of a toy doggie style on the rug beside her. He was in her pussy, and he’d wedged a huge, knobbed dildo-shaped plug into the slave’s asshole. He felt the knobs and ridges as he slowly went in and out, in and out.

He enjoyed the process of training slaves, but once they were trained, he lost interest in them. He didn’t figure he’d ever own a slave long-term, because if she was too dumb to learn then he wouldn’t want her around, and he’d never been one to allow a smart-assed masochist to brat for punishment. Oh no, he found something they truly hated, or a number of somethings, and they quickly learned to obey.

There was no way to continually train an intelligent woman for years and years, which meant there was no way he’d ever find the perfect slave. He’d come to terms with this years before, and he found pleasure in training slaves for other people, or for training slaves because they wanted the experience. Either way, he charged five thousand dollars for the first three days, and a thousand dollars a day after. Touch-up training was a thousand per day with a three-day minimum. It’d turned into a lucrative side business.

Sometimes he liked the woman, sometimes he didn’t. This bitch was a shallow cunt whose heart wasn’t into submitting, but that didn’t mean he was any rougher on her than he’d be on a slave he happened to like. In fact, when he found one who wanted to submit, who got off on submitting, he was often harder on her than he’d be on one who was just going through the motions because her Master required it.

And all of them were well-trained when he finished with them.

When Kelsey finished her forty minutes of driving, she was naked with three of the cruel clamps a huge distraction — one on each nipple, and one on her right pussy lip. She had a dozen or so clothespins on her breasts, and the scent of her pain filled the air. He’d put the slave into the birdcage, and she was now sitting hunched over, her knees to her chest and her arms around her legs, swinging from the ceiling. She still wore the huge, knobbed plug in her ass, and he’d added an identical one to her pussy — and a rope harness to make sure both stayed in. Her tongue was captured in chopsticks and hung out of her mouth, because the bitch had issues with staying silent. He’d known she needed to pee when he put her into it, there was no reason for her to keep telling him, but without something to hold her tongue, she would’ve.

The base of the birdcage had a nice lip, so it was fine for her to pee in it. She’d sit in her own urine once she did, but he wouldn’t leave her in it longer than fifteen minutes. Just enough so the rope would soak it up and she’d feel the wetness both under her and around her. Then he’d make her clean it up, sanitize it, and then go outside and do pushups and pullups and other exercise for an hour before he’d finally take the harness off and allow her to shower.

But the bitch had to let go of her damned stubborn-headedness and pee, first.

“You have a choice,” he told Kelsey. “I can take the clothespins off with a whip, and then remove the industrial clamps by opening them and releasing them properly, or I can add weights to the industrial clamps until they are dragged off, and then I’ll take the clothespins off by opening them first.”

“The first, please sir.”

“Ask me to do it.”

“Will you please use a whip to take the clothespins off, Sir?”

“Gladly. Walk to the wall, put your back to it, and grab the handles out to the side. If you let go, everything comes off the hard way.” He pointed to the wall he wanted her at, and smiled when she obeyed without comment.

17

Eunice was about to take the slave with him on his morning run when Mac dropped Kelsey off after her shift at Drake.

She kept her eyes glued to him when he asked her if she wanted to run with him. “Not today, but thanks for offering. This city has no twenty-four-hour manicure