Sold to the mafia

Isaac

I’m silent as I step into her room, taking in the sight of her tempting curves. She’s spread for me as she lies on her back, her knees bent and heels digging into the mattress. My dick hardens in my pants as I see her pussy bared to me and glistening with need.

It’s been so long since I’ve wanted something so intensely; she’s devouring my every waking moment. Katia, my little kitten. Even when I close my eyes, she’s there. I’m practically obsessed.

And now I have her.

My heart pounds with anticipation as I walk slowly toward her, the plush carpet muting the sounds of my movements.

In this moment, she’s lost in her thoughts. Her expression is smooth, and her chest rises and falls with easy pressure. She belongs to no one. Not to me, not to her past.

The thick comforter beneath her small frame appears completely white, but upon closer inspection I can see the thin silver threads woven throughout create a faint damask pattern. The strands match the color of the thin scars that mar her soft skin, trailing from her shoulders down her back.

They only partially display her pain, but they also show her strength; they’re proof of what she’s overcome.

She has more healing to do. I’m going to help her. I know what she needs, and I can be the person who soothes her pain by showing her the intense pleasure this kind of relationship can bring. A dark part of me craves it.

She refused my collar for weeks. I knew she wanted it, but the last one she wore wasn’t by choice.

It’s only several steps until I’m standing over her, admiring her gorgeous features. Her plump lips that beg me to kiss her, and her long blonde hair fanned out beneath her sun-kissed shoulders.

My gaze drifts to my collar, firmly fitted around her neck. She could take it off if she wanted. But she won’t. She craves the trust and the bond between a Dominant and Submissive. But she needs the relationship of a Master and Slave.

And now she has that. I’m proud that I gave that to her.

At my seemingly sudden touch, her whimpers fill the silent room. Fuck. She’s soaking wet waiting for me. My fingers trail over her soft, wet folds and I marvel at how ready for me she is, my dick straining against the zipper of my pants. Her head falls back slightly while soft moans escape her lips, but with the blindfold over her eyes, she can’t see me. She didn’t even know I was next to her until the tips of my fingers were hot and slick with her arousal.

I can prove to her that she can trust again, and she can sate my desire for complete control.

The moment she agreed and stepped onto that stage to be sold, she was mine.

“I’ve missed you, kitten,” I murmur in a deep voice and even cadence that make her lips part with desire.

“I’ve missed you, Master,” she breathes into the hot air, her breath coming in ragged and need lacing her voice. Her soft voice mirrors her skillful obedience. Obedience she learned from someone else, but it’s mine now.

It’s only been a few hours, but knowing what I had to do, the pressing matters that kept me away, made the hours seem like days and I truly missed her touch.

Her tight walls squeeze my fingers as I shove two in. I have to close my eyes as the divine feel of her begs me to take her in this moment. Instead, I pump my fingers in and out, listening to the wet noises mixed with the sounds of her soft moans. She deserves to be rewarded for waiting like the good girl she is.

Katia bites down on her lip, muffling her cries of pleasure. Her sticky wetness drips down my wrists. She’s obviously missed my touch just as much.

I watch her gorgeous body as she resists the natural instinct to writhe on the large bed as I stroke against her front wall, feeling the fires of desire stoking ever higher.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

Sometimes she prefers to be bound, the thick coarse rope holding her to the bed. Sometimes she even enjoys having it tied around herself. The sight of her waiting for me bound and helpless… I won’t lie; I fucking love it.

Never her ankle though. I’ll never wrap anything around her ankle.

The dim light in the room barely reflects the jewels shimmering from her studded ankle bracelet. It hides scars that have yet to fully heal for her. It’s heavy, mimicking the weight of the chain that once pierced into her skin at the bone. It’s her choice to wear it. One day, when I’ve truly given her freedom from her past, she’ll throw it away forever.

She may be a Slave to me, but I’m her Master, and I know what she desperately needs.

Her thighs tremble as her orgasm approaches, but I don’t let up. She knows not to cum yet. Not until I give her permission. I own her pleasure. We both know that.

I slide my fingers in and out of her and watch as the lust on her face changes. The thrusts of my wrist make her body jolt slightly and her legs are shaking with need for her release, but other than that, she’s still.

I could do whatever I want to her right now. Not because I’m stronger, not because of a contract. But because she wants me to. No. Because she needs me to do whatever it is I want to do to her in this very moment.

“Why do you need me?” I ask her. I know she’s meant for me. I knew the second I saw her that she needed me just as much as I needed her.

“Master,” she whimpers, her head slightly turning to the side with the need to thrash as I continue the ruthless motions.

Even with the heavy, jeweled metal covering the scars over her ankle, she hasn’t realized. She has no idea why she needs me.

I grab her throat with my left hand, halting my movements. I put heavy pressure on her rough, sensitive G-spot with both fingers inside her. She’s close and she needs this release, but I need to hear her say it.

“Why call me a Master, Katia?” My voice is harsh as I withdraw my hand from her welcoming heat and rip the blindfold off of her. I’m careful to make sure I don’t catch her hair, but she doesn’t know that. She has no idea how careful I am around her.

She doesn’t answer, fear flashing in her pale blue eyes. Her breath hitches.

She wants to please me, but she can’t answer me. Because she doesn’t know the answer.

“Because you are my Master,.” she says with faux confidence.

I lean forward, tightening my grip on her throat and whispering into her ear, “Why?” My breath tickles the sensitive skin of her neck, creating a shiver down her shoulders.

Her shoulders rise and fall with deep breaths as her eyes stay focused on mine. “Because you bought me,” she answers in a soft voice, and even as she speaks the words she knows it’s not what I was looking for. I can see the disappointment in her eyes.

My lips press against her forehead, reflecting the pain I feel from her answer. “No, kitten,” I reply. That has nothing to do with it. Her safety is guaranteed with me. Her worries are nonexistent because I take the burden. She doesn’t understand that, because to her, the word Master meant something much different. It was about control. And I have that, yes. But this is so much more than that.

I step back, leaving the cool air to replace my warmth as I unbuckle my belt.

I’ll show her why I deserve the title. The thick leather sings in the air as I pull it through the belt loops.

She’ll learn. And then she’ll truly be mine.

“Get on your knees, kitten.”