Page 57 of Silver

My brain is spiraling out of control. His logic is warped. I know this, but why is he starting to make sense?

His fingers move to my breasts again, both of them now, weighing my globes before thumbing my nipples. “That’s my good girl.”

I arch into his touch.

“Such a good girl…” His fingers trail down to my pussy next. He doesn’t push a finger into me like I need. Instead, he strokes along my outer folds until I’m panting and desperate for more.

“Shh. Stay still for me. Relax. Let my touch feel good. Let it soothe you. You’re not here to orgasm. You’re here to focus. When you’re inside the kennel with your legs open, think of my fingers… Think of how good it feels for me to touch your naked little pussy. Think of how vulnerable you feel with your knees wide and your tits exposed. Even when I’m not home, I want you to feel my fingers teasing your pretty body. Just enough for you to relax and focus.”

He’s demonstrating, and my body is softening for him. Wetness leaks out of my pussy onto the metal floor. A keening whine escapes around the bit in my mouth as I arch in desperation.

Silver moves his hands to my inner thighs. “Rein it back in, precious girl. I want you to learn to feel content with your arousal. Not greedy for more. I want you to experience edging without begging. I will reward you with pleasure on my schedule. Focus on your swollen pussy. It feels so good.” His fingers dance along the edge of my folds, not touching me where I need them the most.

I’m coming apart at the seams. I think my body is going to self-destruct. Explode or something. I’m suffering from information and sensory overload.

“Focus, Daphne,” he commands. “Focus on my touch. Remember it so you feel it when I’m not here.” He continues to tease my sensitive skin.

I can’t calm down like he wants. It’s as if too much energy is bottled up inside me. I start bucking and arching my chest, gripping the bars to lift my butt off the floor. I’m so tight and stiff.

Suddenly, something slides over my head. My eyes are closed, so by the time I open them, it’s too late. He’s blindfolded me.

“Shh. The eye mask will help you focus. Go inside your head, precious girl. I’ll check on you in a while.”

Twenty

Silver

* * *

It’s so hard to watch my girl struggling. She’s really having difficulty accepting the kennel. It’s not optional, though. It will be a part of her daily life. So we’ll spend longer than usual on this task today. Tomorrow, she’ll do better.

I sit at my desk and watch her. She’s panting and drooling. Her body shakes from anger and frustration. I’m waiting for her acceptance. It’s coming. She’s so close. She needs to trust me and trust herself.

The kennel isn’t an easy thing to bear. I’ve studied this concept extensively. I know it can be difficult for many submissives. Even though Daphne is deeply submissive, she has a strong will. She’s at war with her own mind over what’s right and wrong. It’s hard for her to accept her masochistic side.

What she’s struggling to understand is that this isn’t about right and wrong. This is about what my stubborn girl needs. It’s about ensuring those needs are met. I’m totally serious when I tell her she would never be happy in a vanilla relationship. It would destroy her eventually. Her flame would go out.

I’m confident she will see that my way is the right one and bend to my will. She’s so close.

Twenty minutes go by before she stops fighting, putting an end to the battle in her head. Her muscles finally relax, not because she’s broken but because she finally understands.

Her spine is still straight. Her head is still high. But her shoulders relax. So do her fingers. She stops shaking and takes deep breaths through her nose.

This is when I go to her. I unlock the kennel first, pleased that she doesn’t flinch. She’s in a place now where she’s simply accepting that her kennel time is over for today.

I remove the blindfold and then unfasten the bit from the back of her head and ease it out of her mouth.

She stretches her jaw. Drool is running down her chin, and I use a washcloth to clean her up, starting with her face and then wiping down her chin, neck, chest, and even between her thighs.

She waits patiently. “Thank you, Sir.”

I smile, feeling victorious. “You’re welcome, precious girl.” I remove the cuffs from her wrists and then her knees. “Crawl out whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Thank you, Master.”

I step away and busy myself by starting up her computer and setting her calculus book on her desk.

She slowly emerges and crawls toward me. I’m pleased she’s remembered not to stand.