30 DAX
I scoop my unconscious sub into my arms and carry her from the auction room. I had planned on testing her submission more to see if she would obey my final order. I needed to know for sure that her submission was real—not just a product of fear of what a new reality outside these walls might hold. Making her submit to another man because I wanted her to seemed like the ultimate way to test just how deep her submission for me runs.
I had this whole scenario planned, where I’d part her legs and make her keep them parted for me as I played with her clit. I’d toy with her pretty nipples and make her take the pain. Then I’d cut open the piercings and fuck her while she thought I was someone else.
But from the first moment I touched her—hell, from the first moment I saw her sitting there, hooded and waiting—I knew she’d obey. I felt it in her tiny gasps and shudders as I trailed a finger along her skin. She readily opened up for me. I’m not sure she noticed herself, but even her thighs parted slightly. The way she melted into my dominance as I grabbed the back of her neck told me all I needed to know, and the idea that she was submitting like that to another man—if only just in her mind, not knowing it was really me—drove me crazy. And I want to be able to see the sweet submission in her eyes when I claim her body.
So I skipped all those steps, teasing her, rousing her desire, and claiming what belonged to her master. To me. I could have skipped the drugged champagne and the strawberries too and carried her straight upstairs—or removed the mask and fucked her right then and there. But the sight of tears spilling from beneath the leather, wetting her cheeks, was painful to watch. I didn’t want her in more pain. So I decided to end it, quickly and calmly, to let us have a fresh start unmarred by sorrow, hurt, and illusions.
And it’s the right decision. I know it as I carry her up four flights of stairs, and I know it the moment I carry her over the threshold to my quarters. The place seems to brighten as I carry her through the living room area and into my bedroom, and placing her on my bed might well be the best feeling in the world. At least, that’s what I think until I remove my clothes and lie behind her.
A peace unlike any I’ve ever felt settles over me as I nestle her into me and pull the comforter over us. It only takes a few minutes before I feel the drifty waves of sleep starting to tug at me, so I make quick work of removing her clothes and the mask and replacing it with the muzzle. I want her deep in submission once she wakes. There’ll be plenty of time for talking later. I don’t want there to be any doubting who she is or where she belongs. The moment she wakes, I’m claiming her, fully and completely.
But first, I need to rest. And with her tucked into my arms, I get the best sleep of my life.