Bought and Trained by Emily Tilton Page B

cried out,
     and came, hard, while with his left hand atop her back Leo pushed her down and kept
     her from rearing back or wriggling sideways as her body naturally wanted to do, in
     order to make the orgasm stronger, and also and more important to make it feel like
     a punishment. Pleasure as discipline was a complicated lesson to which Rose needed
     to become accustomed as much as possible before she reached the Institute, where she
     would be required not just to accept it but also to bestow it.
    Quickly, then, before the shaking could leave her body, Leo released her backside,
     with the vibrator still on, still protruding from her anus, unclipped her wrists from
     her ankles, and moved around in front of her. He sat on the low chair he had positioned
     there, and again seized Rose’s hair at the base of her neck. He lifted her face off
     the rug, noting with satisfaction the look of utter confusion on her face, and pulled
     her firmly toward his crotch.
    So involved was she in her positioning, and so deep was she in subspace, that she
     forgot that she had arms for a long moment, and let Leo control her entire upper body
     with her hair. She would have fallen flat onto her belly, with her head arched up,
     trying to take his cock in her mouth if he had not said, gently, “You may get on your
     hands and knees, Rose.”
    She did, making little panting whimpers at the feeling of the vibrator in her backside.
     Leo spread his knees and put his hands upon them. “Alright, Rose. Show me how much
     you want me to come in your mouth.”

Chapter Ten
     
     
    Rose looked at Master Leo’s splayed crotch. She had given Joe a blowjob once, when
     they were in college. He hadn’t even seemed to like it very much, let alone demand
     it of her, or tell her to kiss his balls, or drive his cock into her mouth.
    The red collar. She couldn’t be wearing the red collar when they got to wherever they
     were going, wherever the Institute was, because bad things happened to girls around
     whose necks their masters put red collars. Rose was, to her distress, terribly good
     at imagining bad things that masters could do to girls they had decided were in need
     of correction.
    Oh, God, what was she supposed to do? She looked at his huge cock, at his scrotum
     with its curly brown hairs. She smelled his arousal, the muskiness that lingered around
     his balls. He would get impatient, and slap her, and she would never get the red collar
     off. And he had said that it was alright that she didn’t know what to do.
    She leaned in, shakily, and kissed the side of his scrotum. She put out her tongue,
     and gave a little lick, and she heard him say, “Good girl. That’s a nice way to start.”
    She moved her head to the other side, and kissed there. Her heart quailed at the thought
     of what she was avoiding, but couldn’t avoid for much longer if she wanted Master
     Leo to change her collar. His cock was so big that the very sight of it frightened
     her. She had it inside her; it had made her come more pleasurably than she had ever
     come before in her life, but it was much too big for her mouth, and when he had been
     thrusting in there, holding her head, she had been sure she would faint.
    Now she had to take it in her mouth, and not only that but she had to show him somehow
     that she loved it, that she wanted to have him come there, wanted to swallow his come.
     When she had given Joe that one blowjob she had then lain down and let him make love
     to her; there had been no question of her having to swallow semen.
    If she wanted to arrive wearing a black collar, though, she would have to swallow
     Master Leo’s come. She had no choice. The thought brought on again that strange compulsion
     that seemed to lie under the things that Master Leo said about why she had to be a
     good girl and serve her master exactly as he liked. Somehow the thought of the red
     collar and how desperate she was to get it taken off—as if it were burning her