Page 52 of Pierced

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - MYRTLE

Submission is all about psychology. It’s a state of mind. And even though he’s naked, wearing my collar, and down on all fours, this state of mind hasn’t hit Pierce yet.

We’re doing this. It seems like submission, but it isn’t. It’s a direct affront to my authority in this dungeon.

Being my slave isn’t about his willingness to give in. It’s about trust and respect.

And he’s going to learn that lesson first.

“Did I tell you to get down on all fours?” I ask.

He looks up at me. “No, but I figured this was a good way to show you I’m serious.”

I turn on my heel and take three steps. Then turn again and take three more. I stand in front of him, my legs slightly parted. He looks up at me with a smile.

I smack his ass with my crop.

“Ow, shit!”

“Did I tell you to think, slave?”

“No, but this is what you’re after, right?”

I smack him again, and even in the candlelight I can see the red mark appear on his buttocks.

“Jesus, Myrtle!”

“You will call me Mistress,” I say.

He sighs, hangs his head, and then looks up at me.

I smack him one more time.

“Fuck! What did I do?”

“Did I give you permission to look at me, slave?”

He clenches his jaw, bows his head, and growls, “No, Mistress.”

I smile. But only because he’s not looking at me. “Well done. Now stand up so I can look at you and decide if you’re worthy.”

He grumbles as he stands, head bowed, eyes down. And then he takes a deep, deep breath—and waits.

Well, well, well. Pierce is quite the specimen.

I know he works out. I was in charge of his calendar for seven years. He goes to the gym five, sometimes six times a week.

And it shows.

He is a tall, lean man. I don’t think I realized that before this moment. His broad shoulders are perfectly muscled, his biceps well proportioned. There’s a curve—a dip, if you will—as the muscle thins out and then rises again just before ending at his elbow.

I circle him slowly. Catch him watching me from the corner of his eye until I disappear and stand behind him.

If he does that tomorrow I’ll punish him, but tonight I’ll let it slide.

My hand falls to the red mark on his ass and I begin to rub it. “I’m sorry I had to punish you.”

His back inflates as he takes a deep, deep breath.