"I see you've been listening. Good girl, now walk over here." She stood from the wooden chair where she'd been sitting upright, awaiting my arrival.
"Slowly, Gabriella."
I unbuttoned the first two buttons of my shirt, leaving my tie askew and my jacket in place. It was her task to undress me.
"Kneel." With head bowed, she knelt at my feet, hands clasped behind her back, as she waited for her master to instruct her. I looked down at the soft red-gold length of hair, like a waterfall, down her supine back.
The collar around her neck and the wisps of material that barely concealed her sweet pussy, were her only adornments. I checked her posture, making sure there was nothing out of place. She would only be rewarded after she'd done exactly as I said.
…
There was never any doubt in my mind, after the first time I'd laid eyes on her, that we would one day be here. I'd summed her up with a glance. She had the makings of a true sub.
That quiet, unassuming way, those hungry looks; she'd given away too much to a wolf on the prowl. My cock had known it too. The slight weeping at its tip on our first encounter was evidence of that.
She had further sealed her fate when she'd bitten into her lip while gazing longingly up at me. I could sense the virgin blood in her. I wanted it. And so I set about attaining it. It hadn't been that hard. If she hadn't felt the pull then, too, maybe she would've stood a chance. Now it was too late, too late for both of us.
…
The room was set up for my pleasure, every vice at my fingertips. She's the only female to have ever breached these particular walls. All the others had been...stand-ins, shall we say. But they’d been taken elsewhere.
The room, like my ideal, had been in the works for a long time now. The moment I realized what it was that I needed, that I hungered for, I'd set about getting things ready. For her!
My Gabriella, my little Kitten. She'd only been a dream the; aa thought a wish. But now she was here. Real, flesh and blood, unblemished, untouched, and mine. Mine to mold and to do with as I wished. The dominant in me gnashed his teeth. I had to hold myself in check. It was her first time, after all.
"Begin."
Her lips touched my shoe top seconds before my hand came down and clutched her hair, pulling her head back none too gently.
"Wrong."
The fear was palpable, not fear of punishment, but fear of rejection, of dismissal. She knew what displeasing me could mean. Or rather, I'd taught her the consequences. I kept a stern look on my face as I held her eyes with mine.
"What were you supposed to do, Gabriella?"
She swallowed audibly, but she dared not remove her gaze from mine. That would be an offense worthy of what had become to her, the severest of punishments, the withdrawal of myself from her presence.
She longed for my nearness, something I'd trained her to do in the weeks since I'd claimed her.
"I'm waiting, Gabriella."
"Master, may I?"
"Good girl." I withheld my smile, though I felt it tickle at the corners of my mouth. I always felt like smiling with her; she's so eager to please. Releasing my hold on her hair, I let her get back to it.
"Again."
After the removal of my shoes, she sat back on her heels. With arms outstretched, she reached up and, with slow, methodical, and precise movements, released my belt from its buckle.
Her eyes strayed time and again to the tent that had formed in front of them. Her hands shook as she pulled the belt free and laid it aside. With my pants unbuttoned, she drew the zipper down ever so slowly, being careful not to touch.
She pulled them down slowly, past the silk boxers that strained to contain my length. These, too, were neatly folded and placed on the ottoman at her side. Looking down at her, I could see the pulse beat frantically in her neck as she licked her lips.
"No, Gabriella." This is where she always ran into trouble, where she broke away from her training and touched before it was time. I guess I should never have let her taste me so early in her training.
But how was I to know she would become so addicted to my taste on her tongue? So much so that even the threat of my lash was not a deterrent.
She looked up at me with sad eyes and pouty lips as she whimpered softly. Reaching down, I caressed her cheek lovingly. "Soon, little one...soon."
…
She finally stood to remove my jacket, leaving my silk boxers for last. I could feel the slight tremble in her body as she went about removing the rest of my clothing with unhurried ease.
She'd learned her lessons well in the last few weeks. It had been hard not taking her any one of the hundreds of times I'd held her, but I wanted to savor. There was no rush once you'd found The One.
It's a testament to my perversity that the one woman I wanted above all others was the one I abstained from. But there was a reason for this; before I take her maidenhead, she must be prepared.
When I finally put her beneath me, she will be mine completely. Mind, body, and…well, the soul I'll leave for the one who created it. Everything else will be mine. I demand it; I will settle for no less.
…
With everything gone, except the offending boxers, that were now sporting a wet spot, she finally reached for them. Her breath sped up as her fingers touched the skin of my hips.
She rolled them down my thighs slowly, her body following the movement, so that she ended once again kneeling at my feet. Twelve inches of velvet steel sprang forth and bobbed once before settling in an arc just above her upturned mouth.
The long string of pre cum that hung down between us was like manna to her starving soul. I watched to see if she would once again lose control. I saw the fight within as she wrestled with her want.
Her hunger was evident as she licked her lips. Her nipples pebbled, and the sheen of her essence bathed her inner thighs as she looked up at me pleadingly. I held out my hand to help her up. "Come."
…
I lifted her in my arms; her head tucked onto my shoulder. The sweet smell of her perfumed hair rose to my nostrils. It was the scent I had chosen; her whole body would be scented the same, a blend of honeysuckle and musk, light without being overpowering.
She snuggled like a little lamb as I approached the bed? I could feel the staccato beat of her heart against my ribs. No doubt she wondered if tonight would be the night.
I laid her across the bed, taking my time to study her. The golden collar at her throat with the lock that rested just in that little space where her pulse beat, the tiny waist that was easily spanned by my hands, and the gentle flare of hips.
Perfection. She's been on a strict diet, no, I'm not starving her to death, but like many of her age, her eating habits were deplorable. Already I could see the results of fresh fruits and vegetables, as opposed to processed foods and tripe. Her hair looked more radiant, her nails healthier. All in all, she had become and was becoming the beauty that I knew she was.