Sold to Master Jay

Jay smirked when I started hyperventilating and came closer to me, grasped my arms in his hands. He lowered his face to mine, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

"Let me help you out with understanding things," his hands slid down to my wrists and I swallowed, hard. His expression was satisfactory as he beheld my terror. "This is your home. And you belong to me." I couldn't move. I tried to lower my head and he braced his forehead against mine to stop me. His grip tightened. "What do you say?" I didn't have the will to say anything that would get me in more trouble.

"Yes, Sir," I whispered faintly. He leaned back and released my wrists.

"And you'll also learn how to swim," he tossed over his shoulder as he stalked around the pool. I stared at in dread. Of course the man who had bought me was a swimmer and of course he owned a pool in his basement and of course he knew how I couldn't swim... I frowned as I trotted to keep up with him.

How did he know I couldn't swim? Then, I remembered. In the very very beginning of our training we had been asked things about ourselves, a survey of sorts. Thinking it was a relatively harmless question, I had answered honestly... stupid, I chastised myself.

We go back upstairs, al the way to the top floor and I get a chance to look around. There were three rooms on either side of the hallway. The first two doors on the left were guest bedrooms, each with their own bathroom. The first one on the right was a gaming room, with a pool table and a large set-up for video games. Jay expressly forbid me from this room unless I was invited inside. He also forbid me from the second and third doors on the right, though I never got to see what was inside them.

My curiosity spiked sharply, but then I remembered every single door in this place was locked with some sort of finger or palm-print recognition on the doorknobs and the likeliness of me getting past that was minimal.

"This is the workout room," Jay pushed past me and opened the last door on the left. My heart sank.

It was a state-of-the-art workout room with everything you could imagine. He walked to a counter and picked up an iPad, plugged in and charging. He held it out to me and I took it tentatively. A piece of technology? What a poor decision. I'd have the police here in minutes. He smirked at some expression on my face.

"Press home."

I did and despaired. It was locked onto an athletic screen, describing a workout.

"There are instructional videos to go with every workout," Jay said. He sounded like he had given me a long-wanted Christmas present rather than a torture device. "Record your weights and time the workout. If it takes you longer than two hours, your hot tub privileges are revoked." I scrolled down the long workout page and cringed at the idea of doing this in three hours, much less two.

"Why?"

He raised an eyebrow and I regretted my question.

"I told you before," he did it again, that thing where he slowed his speech like he was talking to a child. "I don't play bones."

"And if I refuse to do the workout?"

"Then I will force you to run around the property everyday, a whip in hand if you falter."

The workout suddenly seemed a very good option to me. I had felt how viciously he used a whip and I was less than eager to repeat the experience. I slowly put the iPad back down on the counter and he scooped it up and plugged it back in to charge. He rolled his shoulders and I knew he must spend a lot of time in here. He led me back out and closed the door firmly behind him.

It was still light out, but the sun was drifting toward the horizon. He extended a hand to me in the hallway and I stared at it before taking it. He pulled me into his bedroom and I almost dug my heels in to stop him. I didn't want to do whatever he was going to do. My throat swelled up. He led me into his closet and hugged me very close to his body. I was shaking, I realized.

He pressed his nose into my neck. "You've forced me to show you many of my crueler habits." His voice was husky, a little... I refused to let myself say the word that I was thinking of. He inhaled deeply. "But I have a deep aversion to winning my slaves hearts through fear." I wanted to protest, to say that he would never win my heart, that he was insane, but I refrained. What good would it do me to tell him something other than what he was convinced of?

"Come," he released me and pulled aside the panel at the back of his closet. He turned on the lights and entered. After seriously debating running away, I followed him very slowly inside. He stood in the middle of the carpeted room, looking around. I stared at the floor, trying my best to appear to be obedient, trying not to incentivize him in the least to punish me.

"I hope you remember my rules from yesterday," he looked back at me and his eyes froze me down to the core of my being. Could I?

"D-" I cut myself off. Don't speak unless asked a direct question or told you may. I narrowed my eyes at him and he smirked. It had been phrased almost as a question, but wasn't. I tried to remember the other rules and instantly dropped to my knees, placing my palms up on my thighs, back straight, eyes down. I felt my training from the years I had spent in the facility, the few times they could get me to cooperate, taking over. I heard Jay give a low growl that sounded more like a purr.

"Now you're getting the hang of it," he rumbled. I heard his footsteps pad to one side of the room and pull something off the wall. I trembled as he came back to me. I wouldn't look up, not unless he told me too or put something under my chin, not matter how afraid I was. He crouched in front of me and grasped my two hands. I tried to pull them back and he gripped them more tightly, clipping handcuffs on me.

He trailed a finger on the outside of my chin. "You're shaking." I sniffled in response. I think I was on the verge of crying too, afraid of him, afraid of what he was going to do to me. He raised my chin. His expression was soft, his eyes prodding me, curious. I sniffled again and he sighed, tracing the edge of my eye with his finger. "I'm not a sadist, Malacia. I'm not going to hurt you if you obey me."

I nodded and he stood and offered me his hand. And, to my own surprise, I placed my handcuffed hands in his and let him pull me to my feet. He pressed his lips against my forehead and slowly walked behind me. I felt something cover my eyes and started to pant. He ran soothing hands down my side after he was done tying the blindfold.

"I'm not going to hurt you if you obey me," he repeated into my ear. "I don't want you to fear me." Lies, a voice in my head whispered. Lies and deceit. He loved hurting me. He wanted me to fear him to blind obedience. His hands distracted me from my thinking. He was gentle and soft, tracing my few curves. His nose lowers and touches my neck, and then- my body sighed as his tongue snaked out and traced lazy circles over my neck. I tilted my head slightly and he lodged his teeth in my neck, tugging lightly.

I hadn't even noticed his hands were going lower and lower until he was tracing lines across my hips, tantalizingly close to where my body was craving him. I told myself no and refused to even move, refused to respond. He growled a little. "Why do you pretend to not enjoy me?" My eyelids fluttered at his voice, sounding so irritated with my lack of cooperation.

"I don't want you," I gasped. His fingers slipped below the shorts he had given me and explored me, skimming my clit. I moaned and tried to twist away from him. His other arm lodged around my belly, holding me close to him. I felt his erection on my ass, reminding me it wasn't my pleasure he was interested in. I was just a means to an end. His finger suddenly slipped inside of me and I gasped just a little.

He took his hand out and touched my chin. I closed my eyes in shame as I realized it was practically dripping well. Heat rose through my body, adding to my desire and my embarrassment. He wiped my arousal across my cheekbone.

"Do you know what happens to girls that lie?" he whispered. I whimpered and squirmed in his hands. I knew exactly what happened to girls who lied. He had shown me last night, before he had thrust his cock so deep into my body it hurt a day later. He bit my neck, suddenly, and I sucked in breath in surprise and pain.

"Do you know what happens," he lifted his mouth from his neck just barely, his lips brushing me. "To girl that lie?"

"Yes, Sir," I shuddered as a wave of heat overtook me. "Girls who lie get fucked, Master Jay." I wanted to punch myself in the face for that. For calling him Master. Without him prompting, without being tortured, and not as a beg. He growled in my ear.

"I rather like the sound of that out of your mouth," his hips pressed harder into me. "Repeat it." I swallowed and felt wetness drip down my thigh. My god, I was turning into his slut.

"Girls who lie get fucked, Master Jay."

He started grinding into me, supporting me with a strong arm against my hip. "Again."

"Girls who lie get fucked, Master Jay."

"Good girl," and I moaned at that. I felt his smile against my neck and his grinding becomes more persistent. "And you lied to me, didn't you?"

"Yes, Sir," I could feel pleasure building in my body, at nothing more than his occasional licks on my neck, and his voice, his devil's voice convincing me I wanted him. I felt his fingers curl around my collar, pressing into my neck. He urged me forward and I walked uncertainty forward, blind, my hands bound together. We walked across the entire room and he stopped me only then and guided me up onto the bed. I was trembling again, but not from fear. I wanted him.

I wanted him, my brain insisted. I told it no, and it pushed Cataegis aside and replaced her with Malacia in half an instant. And I did want him, then. No part of me resisted him pulling my hands up and binding them somewhere far above me. There was no thoughts of San Fransisco or my home as he kissed down my back, mumbling words in-between his kisses. "My slave. My slut. My whore. Mine. Mine. Mine." I was a burning meadow of desire when his lips touched my tailbone. His fingers slid along my back after his kisses and hooked around my shorts, tugging them down.

I moaned and twisted my hips when they were off. The bed shifted as he climbed onto it and I heard him take off his belt and slide down his jeans. His fingers prodded me gently and I moaned loudly, wanting him to put something inside of me. I couldn't care less what it was, so long as it moved and offered my dripping hole some relief. He clucked his tongue.

"This is supposed to be a punishment for lying, slave," he reprimanded me. "And yet you could almost fool me into thinking you're enjoying it..." I broke one of the rules, then.

"Please!" I called. "Please, I want your cock, Master Jay, please! Put it in me, please..." I gasped as he placed his hands on either side of my body, brushing me just slightly. His breath was hot on my neck, coming as fast as mine, eager. His self-control was astounding, if he felt what I was feeling at that moment. The desire grew between us, raging.

Our breaths matched and I feel his hands clench in the thin sheets on the bed.

"That's what I wanted," he hissed and his cock plunged into me. I was seconds from cumming as he pumped in and out of me, harder and faster than last night, like he hadn't had sex in weeks. And I matched his pace with my own building orgasm. I pushed back on him, inviting him deep into me. He stretched me, pain mingling with pure pleasure.

"Love you in me," training burst from my mouth, as a loud cry from my throat, a reflex pounded into me. And neither of us lasted a second longer. His fists clenched in my shirt and he pushed himself deep into me. His teeth dug into the back of my neck as I came, twitching under his body, my scream too high to hear, an orgasm that made me tremble and fold in on myself, pulsing through me.

And in a single instant, we were both done. His weight fell on me, crushing me almost, his chest heaving in time with mine. He stayed in me a few seconds longer, twitching. Then he pulled out, and I heard him walk away, panting. After a minute or two he came back to me, untied me, unhandcuffed me, picked me up, placed me on my feet, and hugged me.

He had pulled his jeans up while he had walked away, but the hard belt buckle that usually pressed into my stomach was gone. I felt his slightly-shaky fingers pull the blindfold over my eyes and I instantly tried to look away. I was still embarrassed. I didn't want to associate pleasure with Jay, but he seemed to read my mind. He grasped my chin and forced me to look into his eyes with a squeeze.

"Who did you just cum on?"

I slumped my shoulders as I stared into his determined blue eyes.

"Master Jay," I muttered unwillingly.

"Not Master Jay," he said. "You came on me. You begged me. Say it."

I swallowed. "I came on you." My cheeks flushed. "I begged for it."

"Begged for what?"

"Your cock in me."

"Why?"

"Because... I wanted you to fuck me. You... you turned me on," the last part came out in a sputtering rush, but from the satisfaction glinting in Jay's eyes, his beautiful ice-blue eyes, I could tell he was happy. And a surge of my own satisfaction burst through, for making him that way. For pleasing him.

"Good girl," and when he kissed me I couldn't even convince myself I hated it.

~~~

When we went back downstairs, he slumped in a armchair in his living room, took out his phone, and pointed to the floor. Still embarrassed, my body still throbbing, I knelt. He pet my hair as though I was a dog, eyes fixed on his phone. I almost purred when he pushed his fingers along my scalp, but stopped myself just in time. I leaned against his legs just a slightest bit, enough to feel a slight bit of his warmth.

"Can you cook?" he asked after a few minutes. I tried not to groan at the terrible memories cooking brought up. It was the only thing in the facility we had been trained to do that they were patient with us about. Some of the girls got through the training in two weeks. I had taken nearly a month, purposely messing up over and over again. But I had learned, like all the girls, eventually.

"Yes," I said. He hit me upside the head, gently, but enough to surprise me.

"Yes, Sir," I tried and his hand went back to petting me.

"Make dinner," he commanded and I instantly stood up. He didn't even glance at me as I stalked to the kitchen, my body burning with hot anger. I knew better than to argue with him that I wasn't just a house slave, when I knew that was all I was to him. I hated how he made me feel like I was his girlfriend one minute, making me cum for him, and then a slave the next. Manipulative.

I convinced myself not to put excessive amounts of salt or vinegar in the meal I made for him: pasta, peppers, and warmed chicken drumsticks I found in a container in the fridge. When it was finished, I cleaned up the dishes, put everything in the dishwasher, and put the prepared plate on the counter, along with the silverware. When I was done, I realized that I was pleased with myself.

I took a step to get Jay and then turned around and filled a glass of water for him. I walked back to his chair and managed to catch a glimpse of what looked like an order form before he locked his phone and looked at me.

"Are you done?"

I bowed my head. "Yes, Sir." He stood and brushed past me to the kitchen without a word. I swallowed my anger at his lack of appreciation and followed. He sat down where I had placed it and motioned me to him. He handed me a fork.

"One bite of everything," he nodded at the water. "Including that." Even worse. He was suspicious of me. He thought I had poisoned or sabotaged his meal somehow. The worst part of it all was that it tasted good enough I wanted to eat everything. But I forced myself to take small bites of everything. I resisted stabbing the fork into the water just to be a piece of shit and instead took a small sip of the water, and stepped back. He regarded me suspiciously, then began to eat without a word of thanks.

Halfway through his food, where I still stood there, my mouth watering, he motioned to the kitchen. "Go get a protein bar." A disgusting piece of food, I think, compared to the masterpiece I had for him. Three bites of food I had toiled over for nearly forty minutes, given a man who wouldn't clean up after himself, forced me to gain weight so I looked more to his liking, and fucked me in a way that made me think I liked it.

I ate the bar without managing to throw up and drank my protein water. We finished at about the same time. He stood and flicked his hand at the dishes, opening his phone and pressing a button. I go quiet and start to put away dishes as he puts the phone to his ear.

"Hey this is Flint," he barked, then listened. "No, the tiger should be center-stage." I was very very quiet in rinsing off the plates and putting them in the dishwasher, straining to hear every word. "Yeah, I kind of want to debut it at the comp Friday, so we need two by Thursday morning..." he wandered off, still talking. I finished the dishes and waited a minute before following him. He got off the phone as I approached.

"May I ask you a question, Sir?"

From the way his eyes sparked I could tell it wasn't something he liked. He didn't want to be asked a question.

"Because you asked so nicely," he almost hissed. "But know that questions aren't allowed."

I nodded and considered my one allotted question. "Why are your lunches so big?" His mouth twitched upward.

"That's your question?"

"Yes, Sir."

He shook his head in disbelief, smirking.

"I'm a professional athlete," he shrugged. "I eat a lot."

A professional athlete? I found that hard to believe. He was rich, first of all, and only a few select number of professional athletes were rich enough to afford something of this magnitude. I stared at him. "An athlete?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Is that doubt I hear, Malacia?"

I tried to think of a reason he would lie to me, then sifted through every single professional athlete I could think of. He didn't have the build of a football player, or a soccer player. He was well-muscled, but not enough to be a full-time swimmer.

"What do you play?"

"I'm a skateboarder."

I laughed. His eyes burned as I doubled over, my chest heaving as I fought to breathe.

"That's bullshit," I heaved. "You don't look like a skateboarder."

His shoulders hunched a little, a cocky smile appeared on his face, and he leaned over on one hip. His hand went through his hair, messing it up. He gave me a warm smile and I felt my body chill a little.

"Do I fit the profile now?" he tilted his head. His voice had even changed, his entire demeanor relaxed, and I felt as though I was looking at a completely different person. The kind of person that I could fall in love with. I wasn't looking at the Jay I had grown to know in our short time together, and knowing he had this other person he could take out of himself and tuck away in a split second scared me.

"You're rich," I replied stupidly and he chuckled, but it was an amused sort of thing, not the kind that made me want to run into the darkest corners of my mind and hide.

"I own a clothing and skateboard line," he explained. "Had a lucky break when I was younger." His smile vanished and he resumed his 'cold-Jay' posture. And I was looking again at a cold-hearted cruel-minded mystery. A skateboarder? He motioned me after him and I followed in a daze. We go downstairs and he motions me through a door at the opposite side of the pool. When I entered, I froze solid.

It looked like an execution chair. I felt my heart pounding louder and louder in my head, until l could hardly think. Had he finally had enough of me? Did he find a special sort of pleasure in electrocution? He entered behind me and brushed around me to some cabinets on the left wall. I slowly brushed my hands against the doorknob and he looked at me.