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Can She Rise To The Challenge (google and skittish_butterfly)

Katherine had scarcely taken a full sip when the platform shook a bit under her knees. There was a light thud behind her, like Michael's knee going down, and then there was a sharp upward slap between her legs, right on the panties she'd just carefully readjusted. The feel of it was clear, telling her immediately it was Michael's hand. Katherine jerked in shock, yelping in surprise and instinctive discomfort at the blow, and water spilled over onto her arms and hands from the bowl.

Michael's hand appeared from behind her, right in front of her eyes, and she couldn't help flinching. But he pushed it down, firm against the far raised edge of the bowl, forcing it back to the floor and making the water slosh against the edge and splash her nose. He had her attention, and her contempt, as he started chastising her yet again. But telling her to drink from the bowl like a dog, not deserving the dignity of a well-behaved lady? She thought she was being a well-behaved lady! At least in what she imagined to be his eyes -- wasn't she down on all fours like he wanted? Wasn't she wearing the lewd costume he wanted? The collar? Hadn't she just kept her legs spread and accepted his disgusting touching until she'd... well, wasn't that enough for him? Wasn't it enough she was even here with him?

But he was telling her she didn't deserve any dignity at all, that he expected her to drink from the bowl like a dog, no hands, just lips and tongue and face all wet. She started to crane and twist her neck so she could glare back over her shoulder at him. She had no intention of...

As if he could hear what she was thinking, he cut off that thought and slapped her again, right there, proving he did it on purpose, not that she'd doubted his cruelty for a second. It hurt and she arched her back and then lowered her head as she gasped from the blow, her hair suddenly dangling over her arms and into the bowl of water. But she didn't pay attention to her hair. Her every thought was wrapped around Michael's kneeling presence behind her and his ability to hurt her. Slap me once, shame on you. Slap me twice, shame on me. But please don't slap me a third time. Not there. She was still aching from her body's response to what he'd done to her for the crowd's amusement, still so soft and sensitive there and scarcely ready to be touched, let alone slapped. Twice.

Katherine held still, her head hung low resting on her crossed forearms right in front of the doggy dish, eyes closed as she tried to will herself to ignore how it hurt, not to let it affect her. But it was impossible. She couldn't control the shocking flow of anxiety coursing through her as he kept talking, helpless but to listen and worry what might make him hit her again like that.

The highly logical part of her brain should have wondered if he could really tell if she was lying, but he'd managed to pretty thoroughly disengage that part of her. Maybe it was the revealing outfit, or the stroking between her legs, or just the steady diet of little bits of pain and degradation he kept feeding her, but uncharacteristically for Katherine, she was finding Michael's words triggering more feelings than thoughts, more worries than strategies. Like she was stuck in a purely reactive and defensive mind-set and unable to get herself out of it.

It felt to her in that moment like he had so much power over her that the possibility he could actually tell when she was lying felt somehow reasonable -- a riding crop, on stage, beaten raw? She trembled and moaned and believed him, still aching between her legs from the echo of his hand's slaps. He could make it so much worse. And he didn't even need to be right, he just had to *think* she was lying and he would punish her. Katherine shuddered and pressed her face even harder down into her arms, as if she could somehow shield her eyes from facing her predicament.

What truth was so important?

Orgasm. It was like his sick variation of the male performance anxiety question, essentially asking, "how was I?" The revulsion for him in her heart made her want to tear him down, to tell him he was the worst, that it wasn't even an orgasm, that she'd faked it and that all her boyfriends had made her cum much harder and for real, too. She wanted to lie to him.

But as she knelt beneath him, trembling and worried he'd drag her on stage so the next smack would be with a riding crop, she couldn't lie to him. It was psychologically and biologically and physically impossible for her. Fear and loss of control were too overwhelming, everything in how she was dressed and the position he had her in making it all but impossible for her to chance his displeasure again. She shook her head, her hair swishing at her shoulders and swirling in the bowl of water. "No." She muttered it resentfully, but truthfully, thankful the microphone was put away for now. No boyfriend. Not even her own fingers. Never. It didn't mean a thing, but it was true.

He followed it up, more orders so crude they could only be from Michael. Permission for an orgasm? He thought she should beg him to cum? What a self-important little prick. Even alone in her dorm room? That... that was her time. This was, he was demanding too much. She opened her mouth, her head rising slightly from her arms with indignation, and she almost told him it wouldn't matter because there wasn't a chance in hell she would ever orgasm around him ever again. But the words "when I am deep inside of you tonight" finally registered, triggering feelings not thoughts. Katherine shuddered involuntarily as an image, an imagined sensation rushed through her. She shut her mouth and put her head back down, and she just nodded weakly. She wanted to say she'd never orgasm around him again, but she knew it wasn't true, and she didn't like it one bit.

He was finally silent, as if maybe her apparent agreement was enough to make him happy. Of course there was no way he could ever know if she orgasmed in the privacy of her own room. But it still humiliated her to have to feel so compelled and constrained that she would even agree to such a thing, regardless of her actual intentions. But the thought of the punishment, it was too much. Then her heart flashed on the punishment, on the water bowl, her worry rapidly heating up. Was this just a momentary awkward silence, Michael just too satisfied and happy to bother lecturing her more after she agreed about asking permission? Or was it a cruel, judging silence, preparing to punish her as she left her water bowl untouched?

Katherine closed her eyes tight against the shame, but lifted her head right away, wet strands pulled from the water and sticking to her shoulders as she lowered her face to the bowl, the image of herself in her mind just like the dog he demanded, drinking on elbows and knees from a bowl with her lips and tongue, unable to keep her nose out of the water, her hands not even relevant now.
 
Katherine might not be happy with her current position, anger replacing the warm after glow of her pleasure but that didn't really matter to Micheal. She had agreed after all to this little experiment, Micheal had given her the opportunity to chose a word that would bring any scenario she was uncomfortable with to an immediate end. It might be true that if she used it three times then it was the same as admitting failure over all but that didn't matter, neither of them really wanted her to quit because of her pride and Micheal's desire to see what could be made of her. When on the stage he had gotten a glimpse of what she might become and she had seen the power that he held, the ability to bend her body to his well even if he couldn't get to her heart...

She might despise him but he had felt her shudder when he mentioned that he would be inside of her that very night. Her body was betraying her and it was almost enough to make him laught. He might be many things, Micheal was lustful, controlling, and of course a purveyor of pornography who felt no need to apologize. for any of those things, but he was also honest with himself. Unable to help himself, wanting to torment her a little more and give her body more chances to turn against her he pressed his palm against the soaking fabric that covered her cunt. Beyond the pressure he shifted his hand slowly for a few moments, the slightest grinding that was only done to get her attention before his hand stilled once more. Let her grind back against it, let her enjoy the situation she was in while she protested and argued over and over...

When he spoke again, the silence there just to give her time to think and of course drink, his voice was a little softer, not quite tender but perhaps a hint of warmth having entered it. “Have you ever thought Katherine that it wasn't a problem with you, that any lack of enjoyment that you felt in sex before instead came from who you were with. You are an intelligent young lady and I am sure you are more then capable of putting together the pieces... like it or not you really enjoyed what I did to you on the stage, the power that I had over you, the assembled crowd, the way I have you dressed tonight.” He remained where he was, giving a chance for his words to sink in and no doubt her inevitable rebuttal... he was just about ready to leave though, he had shown his face here and given her a chance to see a little more then what a cursory search of GOOGLE might have given her. Maybe she wouldn't understand it, he doubted she would appreciate it just yet but he had shown her some new things and he intended to do whatever he could to ensure the ideas would sink in.

And once at his home she would have a more personal understanding of kinks she might not have even heard of.
 
Katherine was lapping and drinking up the water, trying and failing to stop her stupid little slurping sounds. Then his hand was against her again and she tensed up, her face still in the water but stopping her drinking as she braced for the blow. Only he just held his hand against her, gently. She felt a slow burn build inside her, certain it was anger over the way he just assumed he could touch her however he wanted. But she didn't complain. She just held still and took it. At least he wasn't hitting her, and embarrassing as it was for a man -- this man more than any -- to basically grope her between her legs however he pleased, if she hadn't used one of her three get-out-of-jail free cards when he hit her there, how could she honestly complain when he was gentle.

Only he wasn't totally still. His hand moved ever so slightly, slowly. Very slowly, but firm, stoking the angry heat inside her, and she felt herself hot against his palm, breathing hard with her breath making little ripples in the surface of the doggy bowl's water. He started pressing a little harder, and she closed her eyes, trying very hard not to react at all, trying not to yell at him to stop, trying not to yell at him to keep going, so unsure which would come out. Her body was tense, holding her position even as he pressed against her. She would have let he body sway forward away from his presumptuous palm's pressure, but it would just force her face into the water. She worried briefly he might get the wrong idea from the way she pressed back into the grinding of his palm against her, from the way she stayed down on all fours with her lewdly displayed bottom raised for his convenience.

And of course it was never enough for him to set two conflicting sets of feelings and sensations in motion inside her, like a little boy gleefully crashing his toy cars together just to watch them fall apart. No, he had to talk, too. Katherine wanted to block out his voice, not to hear him, to just drink her water and be done with it, but she couldn't.

His words were as confusing as his touch, setting different parts of her insides at war with each other, as if it was his hobby, toying with her. It bothered he that she even cared, but he actually did recognize her intelligence, did think of her as capable. Somehow that really mattered to her, that he not just think she was another vulnerable young thing he could just bend to his will and exploit on film however he wished. He really did see her.

But the thought was disturbing too, as she focused on his words and with her attention diverted allowed her body to press back against his hand a little harder than necessary just to keep her face out of the bowl. He really did see her, which made her shudder, that and the relentless slow firm movement of his hand, and just his... presence looming behind her. Katherine did not like being this vulnerable. If he really saw her, did that mean there was even a chance there was a shred of truth to any of his other claptrap, his constant insinuations that she enjoyed the way he was treating her? No. That was his male ego, chauvinism wrapped in psychobabble trying to lead her astray. Katherine held firm, down on all fours, pressing back firmly against him.

It took awhile for her to realize he'd stopped talking, his words still swirling in her head like his hand between her legs. She hook her head a little, her hair dipping in the water, and she lifted her head, needing so badly to deflect and rebut everything he'd said about her, except the parts about her intelligence and competence that she agreed with, to make it clear he didn't know her at all, except for the parts that he knew just fine. To expose his selective stupidity. If he would just stop pressing against her for a second, just let her clear her thoughts to make a clear argument he might actually understand.

She opened her mouth, and then closed it, remembering suddenly the other feeling of his hand against her, that he could hit her as easily as stroke her. Would he punish her for speaking? Was this a question? How was she supposed to know? She kept her voice soft, not wanting him to stop the stroking to hurt her again. "I... am I...." Katherine closed her eyes and felt herself flushing as she recognized how her breathing was making it hard to talk in full sentences, and hoped it wasn't another thing he would misunderstand about her. "Am I allowed to talk?" As he kept stroking her so insistently, unable to hide anymore how she was pressing for the contact, she almost hoped he would say no, not sure whether she could trust her words or her body not to embarrass her.
 
Of course he noticed her press back against his hand, there was no way that he could fail to notice the increased pressure, the subtle motions of her body even as his own hand ceased its movement. He had to wonder if Katherine had even noticed that his hand was now still, just letting her press back against him and move for a little bit of stimulation and of course his amusement. His words were there to take her mind away from her body, the more she thought the less control she would have over her bodies immediate actions. Her mind trying to fight him and her body just craving more of the gentle touch from him. He was used to women who already knew how they wanted to be treated, knew they wanted to be treated and abused as whores by him and had no issue at all admitting it... but Katherine was no where near that point yet and that made it all the more enjoyable.

Other women were more of a destination to him, he got what he wanted from them because they were all so willing and ready to just give it too him. Katherine offered him an opportunity to explore the journey, to see a mirror to the path that he had taken so long ago, when he had not been much older then she was. He remembered his own path so vividly, his heart being broken, stumbling into that strip club where he had met a much younger Carolyn in the middle of her act on stage, her inviting him to a local BDSM group... all of it leading to who he was today, and as Katherine was led down her own path of discovery Micheal knew that it would be one that benefited everyone involved. Her eyes would be opened and he would have a chance to remember the early joys of discovery...

His thoughts were interrupted as she spoke, asking him for permission to speak and to reward her for that behavior Micheal pressed his hand against her harder, fingers pressing in against her slit and rubbing just a little bit to give her some extra stimulation.

“You are learning.” He praised her, catching the way her breathing was making it difficult for her to talk in a complex sentence and more then willing to exploit that. “You have my permission to speak Katherine... just keep it respectful.” The only warning she would get, he might be nearly done but she could still end up on stage.
 
Michael's pressure grew just a little more insistent as Katherine waited on hands and knees for his "permission" to tell him off. She shuddered, the press of his palm, moving so deliberately, hitting her just right, exactly where she wanted it, making her feel so good it wasn't fair. She shouldn't need permission to talk, and he was a bossy jerk for treating her this way, but she couldn't hide how he made her body feel. Well what did she expect? He was a freaking porn star and producer who did this for a living. It probably meant nothing to him to manipulate her, get her to shake with pleasure and then he could just laugh about it afterward.

As he stroked her, he actually spoke kindly to her and his simple approval caught her so off guard and felt so good it made her hips squirm with against his hand. She felt so wet, and she was sure he'd laugh about that, but he didn't. He just gave her permission to speak, still rubbing her though, and with a firm warning tone in his voice not to push him.

That tone. Why did he have to speak to her like that? Especially while he was making her feel so good for once, right after saying something nice for a change. Katherine decided to try a new tack with him, to reign her temper in. She could just make out a bit of the stage through the crowd of people in front of her, her view from down on the floor where Michael had her obscured, but enough to remind her quite plainly where she'd end up getting punished if she messed up again. But also because yelling back at him, berating him, pointing out his stupidity, none of it got anywhere with him. As much as he always acted like he was in control, she could tell he had a fragile ego that couldn't take criticism or plain talking. He needed everyone to bow and scrape to him.

Well, she wasn't going to bow and scrape, not unless she had to of course -- a funny thought to have while on her knees, she realized -- but she would speak to him in words he could understand. Because as much as he thought this challenge was about opening her eyes, breaking her, training her, all of those demeaning ideas that seemed to run his life, she knew the real goal was to open his eyes, to teach him things he'd long forgotten, or perhaps never knew. Someone had done this to him, left him cruel and domineering, made a sadist out of him. If she could fix that, she could win the challenge, but more importantly, maybe even save Michael from himself.

"Thank you. I'll try very hard to explain where we differ as respectfully as I can, ok?" She stayed down on her hands and knees, over her bowl, some of her damp hair still hanging loose in the water, and a few drops dripping from her nose. She ignored all that and focused on talking, hoping the sight of her on hands and knees at his feet would be non-threatening enough he might actually hear her for once, maybe for the first time.

"You think you've figured me out, that I actually like all this, the way you mistreat me and punish me and dress me up and make me cum -- yes, I admit it, you made me cum, and even though I didn't want to, I loved it," she gasped again as he stroked her. "Love it right now. You know how to touch me, you've moved me sexually like no boyfriend I've ever had, more pleasure than I've ever felt even from myself." She paused and shivered, closed her eyes and then went on. "But I'm more than a body for you to train, or holes for you to... to stroke or fill or... you know. Just because you can make me cum, just because you think I look good in lace panties with this silly collar on and all that,doesn't mean its some secret need burning inside me." She paused again for a moment, her words and his patience to listen to them and his touch making her press back, her body moving with a gentle rhythm against him, ever so slightly.

"Yes, you can make me cum. But you're missing the most important thing. There's a hole in your heart Michael. Someone hurt you, broke you. I don't know who, and I don't know when." Katherine forced her eyes to stay on the bowl, not to look at the woman next to her who seemed to have Michael under such a spell, like she was his Queen. There was something more going on there, but she couldn't get him riled up.

"But more than teaching me how to submit, we need to teach you how to love again, Michael. Maybe you forgot, maybe you never knew. But you could be so special for some girl, Michael. All that you know about giving pleasure? What if you applied that to making a girl feel good too? About herself, I mean, not just getting her to cum whenever you have the whim to watch her squirm. Not just making her dependent on you and wrapped around your little finger, eager to be filmed and abused for you. What if you learned to talk to a girl, not just lecture her? What if you could share experiences with her and not just coerce her? As much as you feel like you have to be in control all the time, isn't that exhausting for you? And lonely? Michael, you have to learn to see a whole girl and not just a body for you to control and dominate. Open your mind, your heart and you might discover more in yourself than you ever imagined, or at least rediscover what someone made you forget. Have you ever even been loved in your life?"

She left the questions in the air. Get him to talk about himself. Get the spotlight off herself. Get him to change. She had to change him, get him to recognize there was more to life and relationships than dominating and punishing, that he need to learn to share his life with someone. If she could, she could win this.
 
Micheal continued his small motions as she knelt before him and considered her words. That was a small victory to him, it hadn't been hard to get an impulsive rise from her before and that had led to her being here in the first place... but now after only two encounters with him she was taking time to consider what it was that she wanted to say to him. Of course he suspected that no matter how long she took to think... at this point she was likely to say the wrong thing or take the wrong tone and Micheal relaxed a little bit, waiting for whatever it was that she had actually asked for permission to say before speaking up.

Her words though, at first they only made him smile, thinking that perhaps she was starting to see what he was doing to her, perhaps she was starting to understand what all his hard work was for... but then she carried on and spoke about a hole in his heart, talking about how someone had hurt him and Micheal froze, all movement ceasing right away.

At first he almost lashed out at her, almost began to drag her up onto that stage right away in order to punish her as publicly as possible. Who was she, how dare she... how had she?

It had to be a guess, a shot in the dark, Micheal told himself as he took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn't just punish her for this, her tone had been polite and he had given her permission to speak... punishing her just because he disliked what she had to say would be counter to his desires at this point so he instead took a few more deep breaths, trying to gather his thoughts. It had been many years ago, he had been a different person then, he had lived a different life with a different name, and this was before social networking so there really was no record of what had happened to him, no poorly written poetry blog and no countless updated statuses for her to track down.

It was a guess, a very good guess but a poor imitation of his own intuition and observances. Everyone had their heart broken at some point or another, Micheal reasoned to himself, and she had taken a chance that his heart had been broken at around the same time that he had become the man that he was right now...

“I think there are better times to discuss my personal life.” He said slowly, knowing the the long pause before had spoken would likely only fuel her theory about him. Right now though he had to get her out of here, there were too many ways that things could go wrong now and getting her to his home, the place where he had all the power, would at least be an improvement.

Slowly he stood, taking a little time to brush away any dirt from his knees and straighten his suit up a little bit, withdrawing his phone to send Jess a quick text message and let her know that she should bring the car around... normally he would have been a little more considerate given that she was here having some fun for herself as well but right then the room felt a little to crowded for him... for the first time in a long time Micheal was uncomfortable.

“Get up...” He said slowly, working to keep any show of emotion from his voice. “I think it is about time that we left.”
 
How could Katherine not notice the way his hand stopped its exquisite pressure behind her, between her legs? It was so shockingly obvious. The absence of pleasure, of his touch, had her strangely disappointed. Her body was already warm again, starting to move on its own without clear thought or intent, just seeking those sensations again on her own but failing without his cooperation. But then as the silence stretched on and his hand gave her nothing, she realized the much more important point: her arrow had hit its mark after all.

Finally finding Michaels' weak spot didn't elate Katherine at all the way she'd expected. Sure, she was relieved in a way. But as she had talked, her theory about him spinning out of her almost like the inevitable byproduct of a tenuous connection she was starting to feel with him -- a disturbing one for sure -- but, a little bit of a growing understanding of how Michael ticked. As vile a man as he could be, she didn't feel good if he was truly hurt by what she'd brought up, especially if it really was all because of the woman in red who was sitting right there listening to her. Why, Michael the victimizer could also be a victim himself. That didn't excuse his behavior, his cruelty or his need to degrade women. But it did go a long way to explain why he seemed compelled to treat women so poorly, a compensation for his own pain, even at the hands of another woman?

Katherine's mind was still spinning so fast she was scarcely even aware for the moment she was still on hands and knees perched over a doggy dish filled with water, dressed like a half naked porn star. She was in that wonderful little place in her mind, the intellectual safe haven she'd always felt whenever her brain was firing on all cylinders, as if the body were irrelevant, just a vehicle for maintaining and transporting the instrument of thought.

That she could feel so whole even dressed up the way Michael had her was a philosophical miracle she had to put aside for later, though. With her head hung low and looking back through her spread legs, she saw Michael's legs behind her getting up, brushing his trousers as if the very dirt he had her kneeling in was somehow beneath him. Katherine found his arrogant pettiness just a touch easier to take now, and she told herself it was because she had found his vulnerabilities, his brokenness, the wounds that made him a victim too. With victory feeling like it really could be hers, she didn't need to feel threatened by him. She even thought she could help him. If he was a victim, didn't he deserve that too?

Michael's words were slow, telling her essentially the conversation was over -- or so he wanted to think -- slow, like it was a struggle to get the words out, as he tried to put the genie back in the bottle, to gather the feathers from the breeze and stuff them back in the pillow case. It couldn't be done, but he could try. Katherine just smiled softly to herself down on the floor though. She could only imagine the looks going back and forth between Michael and the pompous woman with the weird suit who ran this place and kept Michael so under her thumb, or maybe there weren't any looks at all, maybe they couldn't even make eye contact at all now that Katherine had pulled back the curtain between them. But for the moment she could only imagine it, her eyes only on the floor, not able or allowed to look behind where their fancy chairs were, or up high where their eyes might even be staring at her in amazement or horror at how quickly she'd diagnosed their secret pain.

It was rather quiet, the sounds of the club around her, woman gasping in pain, drinks clinking and being served, light laughter and in the distance the sound of someone receiving a text message on the other side of the room. Katherine was taking it all in, finally back on her game.

Just two words. "Get up." No big lecture. No long-winded overbearing treatise about how getting up now would show her how much she really wanted to be treated badly. Just "get up" and a rather weak explanation that he just felt it was time to go. Of course if he felt it was time to go, it was her duty to get up, just because he said so. That was just how Michael's damaged value system operated. Katherine was seeing it clearly finally. But damage could be fixed. Now wasn't the time to challenge him. Not the time to embarrass him further. Get him away from this horrible woman first. It would be different then.

She didn't say anything. Didn't bristle at how short he was with her, how impolite, how it didn't matter to him whether she was ready to leave or not? Well of course she was ready, she was ready the moment the woman had started in on her breasts at the door, but still, he could have asked. But not now, not the time. She pushed up from her elbows to her hands and knees, then gathered her shiny boots beneath her and bent one leg to get a foot on the floor. She reach back to put one steadying hand on his chair so she could rise without falling, her slender fingers brushing his on the armrest. She turned and met his eyes, not saying anything without permission, not wanting to put him back in the punishing mind set, just trying to show him it wasn't her intent to invade his high-and-mighty space on the throne, just help herself get to her boot-bound feet like he said.

It was a struggle, but she got herself up on the shiny awkward boots, her feet arched and toes pointed straight down into the floor as she wobbled at the side of his chair, holding his shoulder with one hand and waiting quietly. Her head faced the crowd without actually paying it any attention. All of her focus was entirely out of the corner of her eye on the two of them, watching them through the veil of dark silky hair falling in front of her eyes, hiding how carefully she was watching them for any reaction.
 
If Katherine thought she had figured out the nature of the relationship between Micheal and the mistress of the club they were now in she was very far from the truth. Had she actually brought her thoughts up Micheal would have been too busy laughing to try to chastise her for boldness and no doubt Carolyn would have joined in. Given time, if she held out for that long, Katherine might be given a chance to learn the story of that particular relationship, how it had started and the full extent of it... but tonight was not the night for that.

It wasn't quite a weak spot that Katherine had exposed, he had known that this might eventually come up but he hadn't thought it would be quite so soon, he thought he would have more time before he would need to be ready to address this particular aspect of his life... somehow his past far more intimate to him then his actual sex life was.

Carolyn had heard it though, had heard the question and smiled a little bit into a glass of wine that she had been enjoying, knowing a nerve had been struck. “You're are welcome back any time dear...” She called out to Katherine, sounding entirely friendly and casual with the invitation though the look in her eyes wasn't very different from how Micheal had been looking at her earlier, doing more then just undressing or eye fucking her, but instead picturing her as she could be and how enjoyable that was. The invitation given though she turned her attention away from Micheal and his guest, lounging back in her chair and signaling for some members of the club to approach her, to pay tribute or ask for a favor... the attention was something she was enjoying.

Micheal only nodded in Carolyn's direction to acknowledge her before he left, feeling Katherine steady on her feet and her hand on his shoulder, his own hand on her waist to help support her, he may be angry but he wouldn't let her turn an ankle on the way out of the club... that would just be careless of him of course. Any injury that she revived would be something careful, controlled, something that would leave some bruises or welts but nothing more then that.

Slowly Micheal led her to the door, moving her through the crowd, most stepping aside to allow him pass just as Jess slipped back in the front door, a small pout on her face as she tried to make her boss feel bad about spoiling her fun. It would work of course, Micheal had interrupted her fun and would find some way to make it up to her later on. For now though Micheal made no overt gesture towards her, just leading Katherine into the night air and towards the waiting car which had been pulled up to the curb for them.

The sight of the car, knowing he could be home soon, Micheal was almost tempted to just send Katherine back to her dorm room rather then deal with whatever questions she might have... but that would be what she wanted, he wasn't going to give up and it wasn't until he was helping buckle her into the car that he spoke to her. “I don't know how you think you can fix me when I'm not even broken...” He said slowly as he climbed into his own seat, settling in and closing his eyes. “And we won't discuss this tonight, however I am curious and I will give you a chance to speak about it in the morning... if you haven't given up by then.”
 
Katherine could make out the woman's smile well enough, but Michael just looked shut down emotionally. Well of course. He why else was he hustling her out of here so suddenly? Taking her away from this emotional sore spot. He couldn't deal with it, and that just seemed to amuse the other woman. Katherine wondered what it was, what had happened to Michael.

He put his arm around her waist in a proprietary way and started leading her out. Under normal circumstances Katherine would have glared at him. She had given Don the cold shoulder and worse the few times he'd these patronizing kinds of stunts on her. But with her own hand already on Michael's shoulder, and every one of her wobbly steps a perilous little journey all its own, she was strangely grateful for the gesture, and his touch. He was fleeing that woman, not Katherine.

The woman seemed to notice it too and couldn't leave well enough alone. Her eyes were all over him, over both of them really. No, actually, she was mostly just staring at Katherine. She was a little freaked out under the woman's glare and wished Michael would hurry her away even faster -- assuming she could keep up without stumbling off balance into one of the club's many little tables -- as the woman called out a vague invitation for Katherine to come back again some time, that was just dripping with ambiguity and potential menace. How anyone who'd smacked Katherine's breasts like that could even think about calling her "dear" was a mystery.

At least Michael seemed to be ignoring his woman in red. He made a show of barely even nodding to the her as he dragged Katherine away, as if it was important to keep the two of them apart -- two parts of his life he couldn't stand facing at the same time!. It was like he knew full well Katherine saw it all and couldn't face the truth, had to pretend the woman suddenly meant so little to him. Katherine wasn't fooled.

The journey out on her awkward heels, each painstaking step, was no easier physically than her entry to the club, and now there was the added dimension of all the knowing smirks, the little chuckles, eyes drinking in her curves and shape, in case Michael should toss her away. Katherine clung close to him. He was no better than the rest of these perverts and sadists, not really, but at least he was a devil she knew now, and hoped she might redeem.

And as embarrassing as it was to be paraded past a whole club full of people who'd taken in her reluctant orgasm like it was a delightful little stage show, at least she was on her way out. It was over. She'd made it. As the big fancy door grew closer it gave Katherine a feeling of accomplishment, that she'd stood up to Michael's worst, weathered it all, even the humiliating orgasm, and come out whole and intact. He was probably a little disturbed by that too, that she hadn't used up one of her lavenders yet.

At the door Jess was there, looking a little down. She'd probably been getting a little food in the kitchen, or maybe taking a break and then suddenly summoned to drive them home just because Michael suddenly couldn't bear to be here any longer. It had to be hard for poor Jess and Katherine gave her a knowing sympathetic look.

Out into the night air Michael led her, and Katherine shivered just slightly. It wasn't really so cold, but she was basically wearing little more than a lace handkerchief soaked in her own juices and a corset that provided even less warmth than modesty. She thought for a moment, the way he escorted her by the waist that he was going to do some old world gentlemanly shit and offer his coat for her bare shoulders, and thought briefly she might even accept it in this strange case. But he'd instead had the foresight to have the car pulled up right to the curb, so she was inside and toppling into her seat before the night air really even mattered.

Michael leaned over her, reaching for her seat belt and buckling her like a child, back to his lower self again apparently. As he reached for the belt, he even chided her like a disappointed parent, totally in denial. Katherine didn't say a word, let him say what he wanted, but she knew better. Not broken! His heart was shattered, she could see jagged little pieces of it littering the floor back in the club, all around the woman's glorious throne, like some memento of her conquest. Well Katherine wasn't going to let that stand. He didn't need that shattered old heart anyway, not after what it had turned into. It might take time, but she was going to help him build a new heart, one with warmth, one that could love and feel and had something worthwhile to live for again.

His parting words before the seat-belt clicked made her smirk ever so slightly, making sure he didn't see it. If she lasted that long. She'd handled the big bad club just fine, the club he himself was fleeing now. If she could just get him to open up he might be the one wishing he had a safe word by the end of the night.

She sat in awkward silence for the longest time as he took his seat and waved imperiously for Jess to drive. Katherine waited patiently for him to talk. He had to feel it in his heart. Her words had to be weighing heavily on him. But he just sat there. Finally she just sighed heavily with her shoulders and turned away from him, leaning against her window, watching the mist of her breath come and go against the lights of the city and the stars in the dark night sky.

Her voice was quiet, her tone non-threatening, her words totally respectful so long as he could live with being too big a coward to face his feelings. "Fine. If you're afraid, we don't have to talk about it." She didn't look at him. Didn't say another word, just stretched out her legs and the shiny boots, stretching to get comfortable after her long time down on all fours and wobbling around on the points of her toes. The drive out seemed a lifetime ago, like a different version of her had been in this car and she scarcely even remembered it. No idea how far it was to his house, she settled in for what felt like it could be a long, awkward drive.
 
In the car, Jess climbing into the front having dropped her exaggerated disappointed act, Micheal felt a little more at ease now. He was entirely at home in the club, the attention of the crowd never bothered him but having Katherine breech such an awkward topic in such a public place made him crave a little more privacy. It wasn't perfect but it was better then nothing and soon they were on their way home, Jess knowing her bosses moods well enough to drive him to his home quickly, plus getting out of there a little faster meant that she would be able to get on with her own plans just a little bit quicker. As he relaxed in the seat Micheal leaned forward to pour himself a drink but instead thought the better of it, grabbing a bottle of water for himself and another for Katherine.

“Its not that I'm afraid...” He said, having to take a moment to ensure he remained calm as he spoke, not wanting to give her any sign of weakness that she might try to latch onto. “But you should be smart enough to realize that you chose a less then opportune time to bring up what you did. Honestly I am a little curious about what you think but right now that isn't what matters. What is much more important is you drinking some water and preparing for a rather long night, I will be very disappointed if you let me down because you get thirsty.”

From the corner of his eye he watched her, chiding himself for how he had underestimated her. He had known that she was a smart young woman but he had thought she would be easily molded, he hadn't expected her to be even the least bit observant or try to take the battle of wills into her own hands to use on him. Her little feign attempts to show concern for him, as though she had even an ounce of caring. He knew how she looked at him, how she no doubt felt about him and while it didn't bother Micheal at all he wasn't going to be tricked into thinking that she suddenly had developed feelings for his emotional well being... maybe she thought that if she got him to fall in love then the emotional weakness could be used to get him to quit their little game... but the road could go both ways and Micheal vowed to himself with a small smirk that he wouldn't let her use any trick that he wasn't willing to take full advantage of himself.

The thoughts consumed him during the ride back, not noticing the passing time, not even making the slightest effort to feel up Katherine for his own pleasures, just thinking and looking out the window until his door was pulled open by Jess, so caught up in thought Micheal hadn't even noticed that they had arrived at his home once more.
 
Katherine could see Michael's taciturn reflection in her darkened window, focusing on him rather than the passing lights outside. Her words hung in the air and still he said nothing, finally reaching to the bar to numb himself with his expensive liquor. Only he didn't pull back a tumbler or a shot glass but two bottles of water.

She turned to him in surprise as he offered her one of the bottles. She half-expected him to hold onto it with his stronger hand when she reached for it, to play some sort of power trip with her, but he just handed it to her, as if he just wanted to make sure she had enough to drink. And then he talked, just briefly, but he talked.

He claimed not to be afraid, which is always the first thing frightened people say, unless they're screaming for their lives or something. Maybe not surprisingly, that was all he had to say for himself on the subject for now, more concerned with trying to make her feel stupid for having brought the subject up at an inconvenient time for him. Stupid. Not quite. Just look at the results. Katherine twisted open the bottle of water and took a deep satisfying drink, much better than lapping it up from a bowl on the floor. Real progress was being made. She was sitting and drinking like a human being, and even if he disagreed and was annoyed by the inconvenience she'd caused him, he was talking about it, or not talking about it or whatever, but he wasn't spanking her or making her crawl or getting his revenge by making her cum for him. It was progress.

He was even talking about a long night, making sure she drank, like he was concerned for her. If she could get him talking, it could be a long night. Sometimes the most important conversations, the ones from the heart, could last all night, and she wouldn't want to stop him for water once he started.

She looked out the window, drinking the whole bottle, small sip after small sip, and put the cap back on it. Katherine saw the turn into the driveway, recognizing her own little Fiat right away. They were back at his house, but Michael looked lost in thought. Jess opened his door for him and he looked surprised. That gave Katherine the perfect opportunity. She undid her own seat-belt and opened her door to step out on her own, not waiting like a dependent for one of them to open it for her like an invalid.

But getting up on her own in the heels proved a little more challenging than she expected, and she had to grip the door with both hands and pulled herself up pretty much like that first time on ice skates. That's how she was, perched on her toes, clinging to the door frame, pretending to be admiring the view, when Jess and Michael came around for her. Thank God. No way could she walk on her own, no way. She reached out a hand for Michael with a little smile.
 
If Katherine thought that Micheal had offered her the water out of simple concern for her then she was being rather naive. It wasn't just to ensure that she didn't need to stop for a drink that made him insist that she have the water, he had plans for the night and she was going to end up suffering because of those plans. Knowing that he was at his house, the place where his power was absolute and privacy was assured, went a long way towards making Micheal feel like himself once more. Her question before had to just be a lucky guess and while he could have handled it better Micheal knew that it didn't matter at all. She might think that she would be able to pull some sort of Beauty and the Beast trick, opening up the heart of a man that she thought was crude and miserable at heart but she misunderstood so much of it. She might think that heart break had turned him bitter and left him miserable but in truth Micheal enjoyed who he was... discovering his more dominant nature had been what fixed Micheal... he was more confident then he had ever been before, he enjoyed himself... all those years ago he had discovered who he was meant to be and only looked back with the occasional bemusement of what he had once been.

Slowly he turned to help Katherine out only to find her already climbing from the car, if she thought it were some sort of defiant act then it was really just amusing to him. He had been helping her move about in those shoes so much that it might be entertaining just to let her stumble around clumsily on the way into the house. “Jess you are dismissed for the night.” He said with a small smile, looking at how his PA stood a little straighter and smiled in a way that wasn't entirely sarcastic. “Go on back to the club, find the young thing I saw you playing around with, and make sure that she walks with a limp for the next few days.” Of course she was already moving before he even finished speaking, climbing into the car and peeling out in a way that she certainly wouldn't do with her boss in the car, not when the rental was under his name.

And that just left them alone, Micheal, Katherine, and the possibility of a neighborhood teenager glancing out the window in the hopes of seeing something that would be a little more up close and personal then just the porn the pirated. Normally Micheal might even be willing to give them a little something to look at, grabbing hold of Katherine and forcing her to her knees for a teasing view... but right now he had no patience at all for that and instead turned towards the house, ignoring the hand that was held out and made his way towards the front door. “The longer you make me wait the harder I am going to be on you.” He warned, calling back over his shoulder as he unlocked the door made his way inside, leaving the door open for her but not turning on any of the lights inside, instead lurking in the darkness just inside of the doorway, waiting for her to come in closer so that he could punish her for the impertinent behavior she had displayed earlier... it was time to start her training in earnest.
 
Michael stayed just past the reach of Katherine's extended hand, leaving her clinging to the rear car door with her other hand and waiting for him to help her. Instead, he turned to Jess and dismissed her. Katherine looked at the smile on Jess's face and then turned back to Michael with a smile blossoming on her own lips at the way he was finally considerate of Jess, at least a little. Things were definitely getting better.

Unfortunately, Jess didn't seem to realize Katherine wasn't one of Michael's trained bimbos used to tramping around on ballet heels everywhere she went just to make her legs look sexier for him. Katherine could barely stand up in them and couldn't bring herself to let go of the car door. But Jess just jumped into the car and drove off, the car door jerked out from Katherine's clutching hand and bouncing wildly before slamming shut as Jess squealed around a turn.

Katherine was left wobbling in the middle of the driveway, Micheal just past her fingertips as she reached for him. Her legs started working overtime as her calves and thighs struggled to keep her upright, and her butt started tightening and flexing all on its own as her mind narrowed to the simple goal of not toppling over in front of him. She gasped and looked at him, but Michael didn't move, just watching her.

It took all her concentration. Her eyes locked on her toes, Katherine managed to life her right foot maybe a fraction of an inch and set it down an even smaller fraction of an inch forward. She flailed her arms to avoid pitching forward and looked up, trying to spot Michael so she could at least fall into his arms, but he had just turned and was walking away into the house, leaving her out in the night on her own, unsteady and breathing hard and starting to curse him under her breath for the first time since he'd pushed her face down into the doggy bowl.

“The longer you make me wait the harder I am going to be on you.” She heard him loud and clear, but she only scowled at him a little bit, didn't even call him an insensitive jerk or anything. On the Michael-scale of arrogance, this barely registered a 3 compared to the stuff he'd been pulling out of his butt all along. She shook her head. The harder he was going to be on her. He just couldn't help talking that way could he, as if he couldn't believe any woman would listen to him without the threat of punishment hanging over her.

It was so sad it made her even more certain he needed her help. But she couldn't help him, not yet. He'd left her stranded and alone outside his house, just her and the neighborhood crickets. If it wasn't so late she would have worried about kids in baseball caps rolling past on skateboards, looking at her with widened eyes.

Fine, that's how he was going to do it? Katherine furrowed her brow and focused all her concentration. If he thought he could just strand her half naked out on his fancy suburban driveway for all to see, just because she couldn't walk in the fetish shoes, well, she'd show him wrong yet again. Her leg muscles shuddered and twitched with the effort, her calves absolutely taut, but she managed to lift her left foot and set her toe down a solid inch forward, holding her arms out like a tight rope walker.

On her toes. That helped. She imagined herself like she was just walking in regular shoes, only trying to be as tall as she could, tiptoeing. It was the heel, the attempt to walk like normal that was leaving her so off balance. It wasn't simple, but she started to take tiny little mincing steps on her toes, keeping her legs close together, eyes flitting up and down, watching every step and tracking her progress to the dark open door in the distance. Where was Michael? Why wasn't he helping her, now that he could see his plan was doomed? She was making it, slowly, but making it, so why string this out? But still she was alone.

So she kept going, breathing hard as her legs grew tired. One tiny step after another, pausing only to flap her arms whenever she wobbled too much. She needed to keep them back mostly, her butt feeling like she was sticking it out, all to balance against the helpless feeling she was going to fall over forward if she wasn't super careful. She could hear the little skritch, skritch, skritch of each baby step, walking shaky and slow like an infants first steps.

She reached the door and put her hand on the door frame, pausing to wipe her brow and catch her breath for a second before wobbling into the house. Hopefully there was enough furniture she could get wherever she needed to go, her clothes maybe, without falling over or wearing out her trembling legs any worse.

A couple more unsteady steps took her through the door into the still dark house. He must have blown a fuse. "Michael! Michael?" She couldn't see him, and it was too dark to really see the furniture, so she wobbled in incredibly slowly and carefully, tiptoeing her way into the darkness and calling out for him.
 
Perhaps it was petty of Micheal to make Katherine take those steps in shoes that she could hardly stand in but really he didn't give a fuck at all, at this point he was fully enjoying the chance to be petty. He stood inside the doorway of his house, far enough back that he wasn't going to be visible to her looking in but as he looked out it was quite easy for him to watch her, the light from the street lamps and the moon giving him a clear view as she struggled and took those small steps towards the door. Honestly it was almost enough to make him laugh, she was trying so hard but looked so clumsy as if a small little breeze might be enough to knock her over.

Slowly he started to undress, tossing his jacket aside and slowly unbuttoning his shirt, tie held in his fist as he stood and watched her draw closer and closer to the door, until she finally walked in and then he knew that it was time. With her standing just inside the doorway, calling his name Micheal began to move, those Italian Leather shoes that he had paid so much more leaving barely a whisper in his wake as he approached her, circling behind, knowing that she wasn't aware and he could take full advantage of that easily, letting the surprise make this more fun for him, knowing that each moment would just make her a little more nervous until...

He grabbed her quickly from behind, one hand gripping her throat and the other moving to wrap her wrists in his tie, binding her with skill that only came from plenty of practice, this being not unlike some scenes that he had featured in his films. No doubt this was the sort of thing that Katherine expected from him, she expected a predator that just used and abused women then he would be happy to give her just that, pressing and grinding against her as he finally finished tying her hands, grabbing her crotch roughly and pulling her further back against him. “Its funny...” He whispered against her ear, teeth catching for a moment just to tease her. “You seem to think that I am in some way broken, that maybe deep down I am a good person who is taking out my issues on the world... but did you ever consider that I like the way I am... I think its about time you got a first hand taste of what I like and maybe you will understand why the women who work for me enjoy themselves so much.”

Of course what he had in mind for her, not just tonight but also for the next few months, wouldn't have ended up in any of his releases, she certainly wouldn't be needing any of the little comfort items that she had brought along, Micheal would be enjoying a nice night in bed while Katherine would be sleeping in something that he had purchased years ago but never had the opportunity to put to full use... it had been custom made and as far as he knew there was none like it in the world... Katherine would be the first to experience it and Micheal looked forward to what the night in the cage he designed did to her will.
 
Katherine was just a few tiny steps inside the door, barely on the threshold of what her memory said must be the atrium. She called out softly into the darkness for him, "Michael?" She turned her head to both sides, her eyes searching the darkness in vain. Even the dim light through the door of the solitary far-off street lamp did nothing to resolve the shadows. "Michael?"

There was a lunge behind her, quick and silent. Strong hands were on her before she knew what was going on and her heart raced in a sudden panic, her fight or flight response fully active but totally useless in her condition, forced up on wobbling tiptoes in a strange house in the dark. Her tentative calls to Michael instinctively transformed into a shrill scream for Michael, no idea what was happening to her and crying out for him to come help her. "Michael!!!"

Strong, practiced hands grabbed her, one at her throat just above he "Spoiled Bitch" collar and dangling ball gag, squeezing her windpipe enough to get the message through her shroud of panic: keep quiet. She closed her eyes and her mouth, her throat tightening up. Another hand easily caught her flailing left arm at the wrist and twisted it painfully behind her. Katherine's back arched and she twisted uselessly as a thick loop of material slipped over her trapped wrist. All the thrashing was getting her breath going loud enough for her to hear her own panic, and she could hear the rapid little tip-tap-tip-tip-tap of her boots tiptoeing on the wood floor in tiny bird-like steps. She had no balance whatsoever, no base or leverage with which to fight back, and stumbled this way and that in the grip of the strong male hands.

The hand at her throat stayed, keeping her panicky need to scream in check, and the other hand let go of her first wrist and reached for her second. She tried to slap at him but the loop around her wrist was tight and kept her from moving it much. Soon enough, he had her other arm behind her, and tied off the same as the first, her wrists bound together. She bucked against him, twisting her torso as much as she could in the torso, trying to shrug him off, but it was hopeless.

Only slowly did she start to recognize the sound of his breath, the feel of the fabric of his pants, the same pants leg her cheek had been resting on all too recently. A strange relief surged through her, and her panic slowly subsided. The man gripping her in the dark and tying her wrists was no anonymous stranger, it was Michael.

With her hands tied off behind her, Michael's second hand was free to pull her hips back against him. She felt his fingers at the lace around her pelvis, gripping her and pulling. It trapped her twisting hands between them, her arms feeling the firm muscles of his bare chest and abdomen, her hands touching his disturbing, growing response to her mistreatment. Katherine pulled her hands to the side, twisting enough with he shoulders to pull her hands up to the side of her hips, uncomfortable for sure, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of her fingers against his erection as he ground it against her lace-covered bottom.

Almost like they went together, he did two things at once, talking to her, a menacing whisper in her ear, tickling her neck with his breath in her hair, and reaching forward and around her, his hand forcing itself between her legs, firm against the damp lace, like he felt his words had no power unless he was forcing a sexual response on her at the same time. Katherine squirmed and twisted in his grip, trying not to let him take this easy way out, gasping for him to stop it, but his hand was too insistent, too strong, and he got her legs spread just the little bit he needed. She could feel the edges of his hands digging into her thighs, his palm cupping her, stroking, letting the heel of his wrist grind against her too.

He whispered of his amusement with her theory that he was a decent guy who'd been broken. But she knew it was a front, his pain throwing up laughter as a way to disguise itself from her. It was denial given voice.

It took everything she had to stay calm with her hands tied behind her back, being assaulted from behind in the dark, his hand back against her and knowing just as well as ever exactly how to touch her. Katherine bit her lip and fought back a groan. This was not the time to react sexually, and she hoped the heat she felt between her legs was all from his own hand, the moisture just panic sweat.

He went quiet for a moment, as if taking a second to enjoy her body before lecturing her some more. Katherine kept her eyes closed, trying to focus on the real Michael, trying to see past his fear and pain lashing out at her and touch his heart. She had to reach him. "Michael, you don't need to do this, not like this. You say it's funny, but it's not, you *are* a good guy inside, can't you tell? Stop and let's talk about it. Like two people, like a man and a woman. You don't have to capture me or conquer me. I'm right here, don't you see? I didn't run away." She had to pause to swallow an embarrassing sound, keep it quiet. She shuddered just a little against his hand, but managed to go on. "You left me alone on his driveway. I could have gone to my car, taken off these stupid boots and driven home." She didn't mention that the little panties and corset gave her nowhere to keep her keys. That wasn't the point.

"Michael, talk to me. Just because a woman hurt you doesn't mean you have to hurt women too. Doesn't mean you have to hurt me. Where does that lead? A never-ending cycle of pain and sadness? You're bigger than that, I know it." Her legs twitched and the warmth of her bare thighs squeezed around his hand as she fought off another moan, but gasped audibly. "Please Michael."
 
The more she squirmed and twisted the more amusing this was for Micheal, really she might not realize that she was giving him what it was that he wanted, her struggles causing him to grind against him in a rather pleasing manner. She continued to protest against what he said, perhaps stalling but that was entirely meaningless to Micheal right then and there. If she had wanted to leave for the night then her car had been right outside... though he suspected that she didn't have her key with her. If she had really wanted to leave for the night or even stop him so that he would perhaps need to listen then all it would take was for her to use her safe word, change back into her own clothing, and then try to have a polite conversation with him, though in truth it wouldn't be too polite a conversation because Micheal had been rock hard since he first saw her that night, if he was denied release then he would likely be in a very foul mood.

He felt the way her thigh tightened around her hand, knowing that she was holding back the sounds of pleasure, perhaps to enable her to continue speaking freely or instead keep him from realizing how much she enjoyed this treatment... as if her body wasn't enough of a testament to him. Still her talking was starting to irritate him a little bit, this really wasn't the time for all this and Micheal wasn't just going to let her keep talking and wasting his time. With a slight snarl he squeezed her throat down a little bit tighter, to cut off her words and choke her just a little bit, let her realize just how much power he had over her right then, maybe a little more fear for her, in the dark with his hands between her legs and his hand on her throat, the way he pressed against her and his heavy breath against her ear must be a given about how much he was enjoying himself.

“I did say that we could discuss this tomorrow morning if you still feel like its worth the effort.” He growled as he released her throat, reaching behind his back with that now freed hand in order to flick on the lights, he had been enjoying the fun in the dark but he wasn't so comfortable with the layout of his house that he would try to lead her through it without any lights on. If he were by himself then it would be easy enough but to make the same journey while pushing her along... well to have her actually trip over something and hurt herself would really be a detriment to his plans, especially if he were to trip over her. “Now if you want to insist on carrying on this discussion before then... well I am sure we can come up with a creative way to discourage you.”

Of course he had no trouble with finding an excuse to punish her but right then his own needs were taking a priority over teaching Katherine proper etiquette. With a moments effort and a slight grunt of exertion Micheal quickly lifted Katherine over his shoulder, managing to keep his hand pressed between her thighs the entire time and continue to squeeze and rub against her, expecting her to keep in mind the rule about not climaxing without his permission, knowing full well that he would make it immensely difficult for her as the night went on, carrying her towards his bedroom.
 
His words started so promisingly. Katherine heard "I did say that we could discuss this..." and her heart started to lighten. She knew Michael could be reasonable, that there was still a gentleman under the beast's clothing.

It all went to hell though as he finished the sentence. "...that we could discuss this tomorrow morning..." He was just shutting her up again. Even hinting as he went on in that arrogant way of his that she might not even want to bother by then.

"No... no... Micha-" Her words ceased instantly, Michael's hand on her throat choking her into silence. He tightened his grip on her neck, not stopping her breathing completely, but making it an effort to get any air at all. Katherine's body went taut like a board, bucking back against him immediately, her eyes wide in panic in the darkened room. Her lips moved but nothing came out other than the most pathetic little squeak.

Struggle! Fight! Don't let him do this!

Michael was shrinking her world into a single narrowing point of focus, whether she would be allowed to breath again. Her hands twisted behind her, fingers clutching for him but he sidestepped her blind reach quite easily. Over the pounding beat of her pulse in her ears he could barely hear the wordless conversation of their feet on the floor. His shuffling and dancing steps paced her struggles behind her, easily evading her every twist and desperate gyration, communicating his control. Her own feet, just the tips of her toes really, tapped and slipped and staggered on the floor as her body writhed in his grip, her panic clear, her legs almost spastic and useless. Her head thrashed as much as his grip around her throat allowed, her hair whipping from side to side, but it did not good.

Breathe! Run! Flee!

If she could think she would have remembered all those self-defense tips, stomping on his foot -- all but useless as she was blind in the dark and trapped in ballet boots that would just leave her smashing her pointed toes down on his instep. Nothing she could do. She twisted, struggled to bend forward, all useless.

Fading. No! Don't give in! Nothing left.

Pulse in her ears, his body against hers, her bucking and thrashing weakening. Her lips stopped moving, squeaking attempts to communicate silenced. She shuddered and twisted one more time.

She went limp in his grip, not even sure if her eyes were open or closed in the darkness.

Michael held her as Katherine surrendered, her body weak in his grip, not moving, seeing stars twinkle in her darkness as her mind reshaped itself to his grip, the complete loss of control. It hurt, it insulted her, but she felt helpless against him. There was nothing she could do, no complaint she could make. And still his fingers stroked her, the only movement in her defeated body now was the slow grind of her pelvis against his fingers. She realized her hips had never stopped, that the thrashing and bucking had only made it so much worse, how wet she was with panic sweat against his hand. She heard his animal growl, the sound of the beast.

Finally he released her throat. Let her breathe.

Katherine sucked in great choking gasps of air, breathing with her whole body, bending with the exertion of her lungs to draw the life back into her. Her first thought was of her safe word, so close to using it, to running from him as fast as she could, once she got the boots off and threw them at him. But struggling for breath in the dark, her brain slowly coming back to life as he allowed her the oxygen needed even just to think clearly, she realized whatever had come over him was over. She kept the word ready on her lips, ready to blurt it out if she even felt his fingers at her throat tightening again, but holding on to it for the moment, not wanting to let him win with that kind of behavior. She as breathing, she was ok. Well, not ok. She could feel something inside her was different, something cracked or strained too far. Katherine realized he was still stroking her, and that her struggles for air had ceased, yet her body hadn't stilled completely. Clearly he had broken something inside her, something she wasn't sure even a week of sleep and warm baths couldn't fix.

He flicked a switch while she panted making her blink wearily at the sudden blast of light. Her mind was still too lost for the moment to place her surroundings, the couches and fancy tables and rugs, too busy circling around her essentials: breathing, feeling his body against hers, evaluating his every breath and movement for warning signs.

His growl was words and they went straight into her head like he'd injected them intravenously. She kept quiet, except for the ragged sound of her breath struggling through her recovering windpipe, wishing so badly she could bring her fingers in front of her to massage her throat. His words were much lighter than their meaning, but her heart heard him. Quiet. Or else.

They would talk when he wanted to talk. She closed her eyes with sadness, resigned to the fact she would have to struggle just to get past his fear of confronting what she had to say before she could work on actually reaching him.

Her mind and thoughts were still subdued, struggling with what having him cut off her oxygen had already taught her body quite clearly. He was in charge. He had let her talk. Let her theorize. But that was his choice not hers. She could be silenced whenever he wanted, and the realization, this new deep, internal understanding of his power over her was working through her mind.

He didn't seem to care that she needed time to figure this out. Michael made a grunt, like it was even less effort than speaking to her, and suddenly his arms at her bottom and under her shoulders had her squealing in a momentary panic as he hoisted her like a kid in her dad's arms, tossed back face down over his shoulder. She couldn't use her hands to soften the blow that briefly crushed the air out of her with a loud ooof, couldn't scratch or claw. Couldn't pound on his back like a weak little girl, couldn't even do that. She kicked her boots behind her, flailing her legs as he started to carry her, but all that did was make his incessant stroking all the more effective. Katherine sagged wearily over him and then settled down, giving up the useless resistance, saving her energy for the degradations he surely had in store for her, the struggles again.

Gravity rushed her blood to her cheeks and she grunted with his every step, his shoulder digging into her belly. "This isn't you... oof... Michael stop... oof..... please..... ooof.... this isn't... oof... how it's supposed to go.... oofff.... oooof..... ooof" She went silent except for the sound of her body struggling with its discomfort, even her words useless now apparently.

With her face to the floor seeing little more than his carpeting and the confident stride of his legs and the muscles in his butt working to carry her, and her hair hanging around her head like a curtain, Katherine couldn't even get a glimpse of his house, its rooms and contents, as she was lugged through it like a pretty new possession he had just the spot in mind for.
 
He had felt her go limp against him while he had been squeezing against her throat, her body surrendering to him and kept up only by his hands on her, the only real movement of her body at this point was the endless grinding of her covered crotch against his hand. It was funny how even with her on the edge of consciousness her body moved to get pleasure from him, put a person in a corner like this and you saw the animal response, you got down to who they really were. In a reversed situation Micheal would have kept fighting, would have done anything he would to get loose, even feigned surrender for a moment only to try to use surprise... but her surrender to him wasn't faked, it was real.

This was what victory over her felt like, this was her surrender to him and that pleased Micheal more then even using her body to put on a show. That had been her body giving him what he had wanted but this was her consciously choosing to give up. Oh she would try to recover once he gave her a chance, maybe take a hot bath and put on some bunny slippers, watch some banal chick flick in order to relax, but the door that he had opened up just a crack was widening... and when she didn't use her safe word he knew that he had her for the night. She could justify this to herself no matter what else he did, she could tell herself that he had nearly killed her, that he might be willing to do just that, and she would carry on knowing that the worst had to be behind her.

And it was, depending on your point of view Micheal didn't intend to do anything worse to her then what he had just done.

He moved swiftly as he carried her through the house, not that he didn't want her to see the rather tasteful if slightly heavy on the leather furnishings of his house, the subtle allusions to BDSM in the artwork that he had picked out that became less subtle as you drew closer to the bedroom.

It was the bedroom though where he spent most of his time, other then his study of course. Inside the bedroom he had foregone most of the leather in the furnishings, all of it dark wood which he favored, the art on the wall much less subtle in the themes of bondage and submission though it was mostly black and white close ups. The room was dominated by the bed, a massive affair that he had prepared for the evenings fun, high thread count sheets of pure white, thin chains of steel winding at the corners of the bed with small leather cuffs the end of each and at the head of the bed a leash was tied off to fit the collar she already wore.

As they entered the room Micheal quickly flipped the dimmer switch up a little, raising the lights in the room so that she would be able to see but it still remained dim, almost intimate in the ambiance. Then, moving carefully so that he wouldn't drop her, Micheal shifted Katherine in his arms so that when they passed into the room itself properly, he was carrying her in a mockery of bridal style. “Kicking like that could have gotten you hurt.” He commented, a dark little chuckle accompanying his words. “And despite what you may think I know exactly what I am doing, I have no trouble with you leaving my house with some bruising or maybe a ligature mark but having you actually hurt would be a real inconvenience.”

And of course it would be bad for his reputation as a producer who took great pains to ensure that no one got seriously injured in his shoots... but he was concerned more about the time with her that would be lost if she had to go to the hospital and get a cast.

With exaggerated care he took her into the room, laying her out on the bed in a way that might have even been romantic if not for the things that ran through his mind when he looked down at her laying on the bed. The mockery of virgin white that she was wearing, the white sheets she was on, and of course the state of her panties made for a nearly picture perfect scene.

Of course there was one thing in the room that nearly caught his eye in the way that she did, where she would be spending the night. At the foot of his bed, barely visible from where she was lying, was a cage.

The bars were not all that thick, the the cage so narrow that she wouldn't have the room to turn or even shift very much, and so low that she would need to enter it on her knees, one side of the cage lower then the other which would keep her head nearly down on the plastic floor of the cage, she would be able to fit but not very comfortably, and Micheal was looking forward to getting a good night sleep while she was stuck in there... but only after he was finished using her to the point she was exhausted.

Wrapping a hand right in her hair Micheal lifted her head so she would be able to get a better look at the cage that he had designed himself, the cage she would be the very first guest in, reaching behind her to deftly untie her wrists. “Now why don't get get started Katherine, you have a long night ahead of you and I for one am looking forward to every moment of it, now why don't you get those boots, I can handle the rest of it.”
 
Staring down at the floor passing by, with her dangling hair letting her see little more than the efforts of his bare back's muscles to keep her hoisted as he carried her through his house, Katherine mentally charted the transition from soft, plush living room carpet to the wood in the hallway, and eventually, through a doorway lined with dark wood, into another carpeted room. She tried to lift her head enough to see past the curtain of her dark hair but with her hands tied behind her even that simple movement made her feel like she might just roll off his shoulder and fall to the floor.

Katherine's pulse was pounding in her ears, her body so ready to flee, and yet so unable. Even if her hands were untied Michael still had her solidly in his control, and fighting too hard would just get her dumped to the floor and hurt. And even if she could somehow get down without hurting herself, she'd just be right back on his stupid, infernal boots, perched precariously on the tips of her toes and scarcely able to outrun a baby bird. There was no way to fight and no where to flee. Katherine felt the awful frustration squeezing her throat, or maybe that was just the memory of his hand gripping her, she couldn't keep it straight anymore.

Without any warning her world shifted again, rolling across his shoulder, and then falling into his arms like a rescued princess -- a rescued princess with her hands bound behind her back and probably a big red hand print on her windpipe, so not exactly any kind of fairy tale dream even if Katherine was prone to such things. She had been raised to do the rescuing, not to need anyone else.

But the worst part was how Katherine couldn't help her shriek of panic, hating how high pitched it sounded, like a football player's stupid date at a horror movie. Michael caught her though, not letting her fall, one arm under back and bound arms, pulling her tight against his chest and bare shoulder so his heart pounded audibly in her ear, his other arm under both of her knees, her booted feet dangling at his right side and bouncing gently as he stepped into the room with her.

Did he really think after what he'd done to her, that carrying her like some bride on the cover of a romance novel was going to soften her heart or earn her forgiveness? He moved against the wall and managed to raise the lights just barely enough in the room that it became possible to make out furniture and pictures and function.

Katherine immediately went taut in his arms, her boots kicking up straight once in alarm before settling back down. It was his bedroom. Her eyes glanced around, nothing in the room reassuring her. It definitely looked like his bedroom should look. So typical. The walls held a number of pictures, not so many as to be tacky in number, but utterly classless in terms of what they depicted: black and white pictures of woman being degraded or humiliated but all done in a style clearly trying to masquerade as art, like it was somehow justified to treat women that way because they were just so damned beautiful. She twisted in his arms, as he carried her further in, but she couldn't even see the door as he closed it with a kick of his foot behind them.

It took every muscle in her body working together to keep her head up. To try to squirm or kick away just felt useless. As he stepped into the middle of the room, giving her a view of his oversized and overbearing bed and its fancy white sheets, her head sagged back against his chest, her long hair her only cushion over his hard chest muscles. As he mocked her for having had the nerve to try to kick free, as if she was just stupid and silly for even having tried, like she should have know she would only have hurt herself if not for him, she tried to ignore him, just listening to his heart pounding almost as fast as hers.

She opened her mouth with an acerbic comeback about how she would hate to inconvenience him by stupidly injuring herself, but the look in his eye made her think twice. Just being dropped from this height with her arms bound would definitely... inconvenience him... probably a lot. Katherine kept quiet, waiting for the right time to talk, to complain, to negotiate, to criticize, but this wasn't it. It must have been his dream come true. He had her powerless and she knew it and he knew she knew it. But that could only last so long.

He stood over the bed with her and she saw the lights over the bed for a moment, dim for the now, but obviously there to give him as much light as he wanted -- did he film in here? She turned her head to look at the bed, the dark wood, so expensive -- probably from endangered trees. He kept decorative chains attached to the bed posts and even the headboard, as if he wanted to surround himself with his sick fantasies even when he slept, all the pictures part if it too.

Then her body was away from his chest, kicking out scared in open space in just his arms like he was going to drop her. But he just lowered her with a tenderness that made a mockery of the word the way he did it. She felt the mattress accepting her body, firm but supportive, giving in as her bottom settled first, then her shoulders and last her legs. He set her down without a pillow, her hair feeling like a mess of a halo around her head.

Michael had her about in the middle of the bed and he was just standing over her, his bare chest only breathing lightly from what was obviously only a minor effort for him carrying her here -- so then why the pounding of his heart? Katherine blinked that question away, looking to the other side of the bed, its chains and wall, his pillow, but not wanting to look at him staring at her like she was a piece of meat and he the butcher trying to decide how best to carve her. But so long as he didn't get out the knives, she still felt in her heart that she would be ok, that a man with his reputation and business interests at stake, he wouldn't dare injure her... or... or anything like that. Not when the whole world knew their agreement. She was safe, right? He would scare her, try to mess with her head, get her to say lavender three times. Katherine was so close to blurting out lavender and running away she didn't dare open her mouth, not and risk giving him the satisfaction. Be smart Katherine. Call his bluff.

She couldn't say what it was, but somehow she knew he was moving, a sound, or just a feeling, an instinct developed over a day or two of being subject to his every whim having an effect on her. Katherine got her head turned to him just in time to see him reaching for a fistful of hair on top of her head.

He pulled, jerking her head up off the bed, bending her neck. Her breath came in harsh ragged gasps of pain as he made her look down along the length of her half naked body, past the toes of her boots -- weren't they all toe? -- to the foot of the bed. More chains. HIs grip in her hair hurt like mad but there was nothing she could do. "Oww owowowow, stop it stop owww." But he kept her head forced up and looking at the foot of the bed. What did he want from her, ooh's and ah's about his clever decor?

She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. "Ok, ok, I see, very scary, chains and deviant pictures and a little hamster cage or whatever, so you can keep your pets as miserable as the women you......... owwoww OWW! Ok, yes, ok, it's scary all right? A real torture chamber, perfect for you. You must be really proud of it. OWWW." HIs grip changed without a word, making her yelp in pain as he just pulled her head farther up from the bed, all the muscles in her belly straining like the most painful crunches in her life to keep the strain off her hair and scalp. She could see his sadistic eyes drinking in her predicament, like it really pleased him. Katherine moaned in frustration along with the intense discomfort. She'd been so close to touching the real Michael inside, and now this again. How was she going to get the other Micheal back, get him to stop this, to talk to her again?

With his eyes still locked on hers a tear ran down her right cheek from the pain in her scalp. Katherine felt his other hand behind her back. She would have asked a stupid question if she didn't hurt too much to say anything. And then so unexpectedly, like a miracle she hadn't even thought to pray for, her wrists were free. First thing her hands went right to the bed behind her, letting her arms take the strain off her hair.

Finally he spoke, leaving her in that position and rising up higher to watch her. He wanted her to take off the boots, and she hated him for it. Oh, how badly she wanted them off, her ankles aching and exhausted, not sure she could even stand normally at this point if she could get them off, her ankles probably ruined. But having him tell her to do it? It made her want to leave them on just to resist him.

Resistance and compliance, discomfort and self-respect all warred in her heart as she stared back at him, blinking back that second tear in her other eye, not wanting to let him have that one too. Finally, she pushed herself forward, saying nothing and just letting her eyes blaze at him. She stretched her wrists, her fingers feeling foreign to her at first, like a forgotten part of her. It took her a minute of fumbling and prying but she finally got the little hidden zipper on her right leg and pulled it down with a quiet tug. The second was less of a struggle, her knees pulled up to making it easier. Breathing heavily as the emotions still surged through her almost out of control, she kept her eyes on her legs, ignoring him completely, pretending she was just doing this for herself.

"I'm taking them off because I hate them, not because you told me to." The air on the bare skin of her calves felt like heaven and she almost cried with simultaneous relief, wincing as she slowly flexed her ankles and tried to wiggle her toes. She pulled the boots all the way off and threw each one all the way across the room to clatter against some overpriced piece of furniture on the other side as a pointless act of defiance she couldn't stop. Katherine hoped she broke something and threw the second one harder.

Then she looked up at him, her chin high. "There, happy? So this is all it takes to get a woman in your bed? You really think this little of yourself?" She flinched, anticipating something bad even before she finished, but she had to poke through to reach the real Michael, to find him in there again somewhere.
 
The bedroom was a place where Micheal never shot, in fact he made a point of never filming anything in his own home. He was on camera every week and greatly enjoyed it, but there had to be some limit to his exhibitionism, a little bit that he had to keep all to himself. He needed to have a little bit of privacy all to himself, just the slightest hint of a private life away from the cameras. The women he slept with were of course more then welcome to come by the house, but anything that was filmed there would be for his own personal collection, perhaps watched later to find some inspiration for the work... occasionally a young woman in his bedroom would improvise and come up with something that he tried to work into the next shoot and being able to examine for a source of inspiration when he wasn't so distracted was quite the boon.

Of course Katherine didn't need to know that there was a camera hidden in the room, what looked like a Tom Clancy novel actually disguised as a camera, standing out from the otherwise much high quality literature that he kept around, its angle perfect to get a view of the bed and of course the cage so he would later be able to see just how rough her night was.

Her pointless defiance when she threw the boots across the room grated a little bit with him but not quite as much as how she felt that she had to spout off about she was doing it because she hated the boots and not because she had been instructed too. It was utterly pointless, probably made her feel a little better and in most cases that sort of thing wouldn't both anyone... but in this particular case she was supposed to be learning, Micheal was trying to teach her that his own desires rated higher then her own... that she was there to satisfy his desires and not demonstrate how strong her will was by trying to be a pain in his ass.

Before he could even react to what she said she opened her mouth again, as though she knew that she had irritated him and was trying to push things even further is she could. He saw her flinch, not moving just yet but staying still for a few moments while waiting for her to relax a little bit, perhaps to think that there was no retaliation for her behavior.

Perhaps she thought that he was going to choke her again, or just bark at her before ripping away her clothing, but she underestimated just how irritating she was at that very moment. It was one thing for her to take a blind shot at him in the club but he had instructed her several times that the topic should be shelved until the morning and she just wouldn't obey... before he had been irritated but now he was actually angry with her.

It was strange though, her question didn't reach deep into his heart to change him, but it did affect him. Like a cut on the roof of his mouth, it wouldn't heal easily... a question in his mind about how long it had been since he had slept with anyone without the pretense of BDSM, the last relationship had been...

His hand swung up from his side, open and palm towards her face. It wasn't a particularly hard slap, he didn't want to bust open her lip or cause undo bruising but he did want to frighten her a bit, the loud noise almost echoing through the room as it turned her head aside.

He wasn't done though, he still a point to make and before she was able to properly react Micheal grabbed the back of her neck and forced her face down into the comforter of the bed, his other hand pressing roughly against her scantly covered crotch, pushing to penetrate her even though he never bothered to move her panties aside... pushing the fabric into her along with two fingers, moving roughly to ensure that he got a response from her. “I dislike having to repeat myself Katherine.” He growled as he worked to attach her collar to the leash at the head of the bed. “I could gag you but that wouldn't accomplish anything beyond shutting you up and I need you to learn to hold your own tongue.”

Twisting fingers pushed deeper into her, feeling how soaked she was, knowing the fabric would be teasing along her insides. Slowly he climbed up onto the bed, resting on his knees with his crotch close to her face. “Now why don't you put that sharp tongue of yours to better use, before you are allowed to sleep I will be getting off twice and the sooner you put your mouth to good use the sooner you will be allowed to get some rest.”
 
Katherine's words hung in the air between them, flinching and blinking in anticipation of some kind of punishment from him. She made a soft fearful sound and scooted back from him just a little bit on the bed, messing up the sheet and comforter and then hugged her knees tight to her chest, blinking rapidly as she realized it was too late to take it back if she had pushed him too far.

But nothing happened. He stood over her, glaring at her, like it was some staring contest and he intended to win. She felt herself relaxing ever so slightly, not enjoying the specter of him looming over her like that but it was better than...

His hand flashed out and she wasn't ready for it at all. She didn't even realize what he was doing it until the sound was already echoing off the walls, the raw, rude brutality of him slapping her right across the face something simple and yet beyond what she'd imagined from him. It was hard enough to snap her head to the side, her neck only slowly turning so hesitantly to face back in the direction of his slap again. The heat of his palm marking her cheek was bad, making her yelp of pain echo along with the crack of his palm, but it was her utter shock at being treated that way, so completely disrespectfully, that hurt Katherine deepest. One hand went straight to her cheek as she stared back up at him, blinking rapidly with a wounded expression and trying not to lose control of her emotions, and the other lifted up part way in front of her, some instinct to shield herself taking over as fear ruled her body.

It didn't matter though. Her fear of another slap did nothing to protect her as he closed on her and grabbed her roughly at the back of her neck, painfully trapping some of her hair as well, and just shoved her face sideways and down into the bed. She tried to turn her face so most of the soft impact and pressure of the mattress was on her cheek rather than her nose, but he held her there, pressing her down. Her knees were folded up behind her and she couldn't kick out, just whimpering still from the sting of the slap and now this added indignity. Her hand clawed at his behind her neck but it did no good, her other hand twisted in the bedsheet by her face as she held on as she felt him on the mattress behind her.

His hand pressed against the fabric between her legs. She could feel she was still wet there from all the stroking and teasing he had done, and she shuddered to look back on all of that and think of it as the good time. Because this was not good. His fingers were rough and thick, two of them together and he just started pushing them into her. She was still wet, more wet than she would have cared to admit actually, but it didn't help. he pushed and pushed, forcing his fingers up into her and pressing the lacy fabric up into her soft crevice as well. She writhed and bucked under him, but with his grip still pressing her face down into the bed there was nothing she could do. The fabric pressing up inside her was incredibly irritating, the degrading position and treatment bringing her close to tears. She moaned the words "I'm sorry," over and over, softly, afraid now of saying too much, of pushing him any further.

He lectured her like a stern parent, making her feel like the naughty girl she'd never been. His lecture of not liking to repeat himself was one she'd never had to hear personally, although she'd heard tell of it from her annoyed friends enough times. But to be talked to his way, pressed down in the bed, her panties being stuffed up into her with thick fingers stretching her open, it was more than she could take.

She heard his growl and her apologies went up in pitch as his hand at her neck moved a bit. She heard a chain and then a click as the collar around her neck shifted. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Michael, please I didn't mean it."

He spoke of gagging her and a small part of her wished he had, if only he'd gagged her two minutes ago before she let her mouth get away from her again. She had just meant to bring back the Michael she'd seen earlier, but all she'd done was inflame the beast. If she had just waited until the morning like he said, if only, but she hadn't been able to wait that long -- who knew what he might do to her in the meantime?

Well now she was stuck with even worse, and it was her own fault. She had even had her plan coming into the night, not to push too far, not to lose control of her mouth, and still that burst of confidence, the feeling of certainty in herself that she knew better got her in this mess again.

But he wasn't even going to gag her now. Relief but also fear flowed through her insides. The thought of being gagged, of being silenced, frightened her, like an attack on her very essence. But instead he spoke like the rest of the night was going to be a long lesson to teach her to silence herself, which made her tremble inside even more.

"I will, I'm sorry, I'll be quiet." And then the irony of her words frightened her into silence, suddenly worried she'd already said to much. She moaned as he twisted the fingers inside her, mushing more of the damp fabric into her. Katherine moaned but bit her lip, struggling not to complain, not to say anything. Whatever she did, she didn't want to face that choking again, or be gagged. If she could just keep quiet and weather his brief outburst, if she could just get to sleep and wake up in the morning, allowed to talk again. But morning was so far away, and she whimpered as she worried how bad it would be.

He pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her panties pressed up into her, a constant irritation, but she didn't move her hands, didn't reach to pull them out. She was afraid doing anything without his permission right now could cause unpredictable misery. His hand let her head back up and she was sitting up straight again, half kneeling with her knees folded up the side. Katherine watched him intently, suddenly very aware of the chain from her collar dangling cool down her back. But she kept quiet about the indignity, and silenced her fear.

He climbed up in front of her, on his knees and moving closer until he was right in front of her, his knees between her legs. Then he rose up straight, so her eyes saw his firm belly and his belt and crotch right in front of her face.

Her sharp tongue. That's what he called it and she had to wince. It was true. He wanted her to put it to better use and she nodded, resolving thoroughly in her heart to be more careful how she spoke to him. Katherine was pretty sure she could still reach him without being insulting or rude or forcing a subject at the wrong time, and she nodded more.

It took her a minute to realize as he went on, that wasn't what he meant. Her face right at his crotch and his simple statement that she would apparently have to get him off twice before she could sleep.

She looked up at him and he stared down at her with firm resolve. Then she looked straight ahead, seeing the contour of his bulge so thick in his pants right in front of her eyes. Katherine shuddered with disgust at his crudeness but she didn't say anything, didn't try to negotiate or talk him out of hit. It would only make it worse, she was convinced of that.

And if it wasn't her mouth, he certainly could make it worse, he'd proven himself quite capable of that. She had tried this before once in highschool, with her second boyfriend after their attempt at sex had been so... unsatisfying. It wasn't difficult. Boys are such simple creatures that she'd figured it out pretty quick once she got over her revulsion. She'd hated it, but he had loved it. She never even dated him again, scarcely been able to look him in the eyes after that.

Now here that seemed to be the best of her options. It was that or have him choke her or slap her or gag her or who knew what else. She peered up at his eyes again and he was still staring down at her like he totally meant business. Katherine moaned with frustration at not being able to think of an alternative or talk her way out of this. She put her hands on his legs, gently on each thigh and looked up at him one last time hoping for a reprieve, but at his slightest motion she moaned in fear and flinched, and brought her hands to his crotch to show him she was doing it.

She stroked him through his pants. Even that grossed her out. It wasn't that she hated the feeling of a man's cock, she'd found it fine enough in the right context, appealing in a certain way. It was Michael's cock. The idea of having to work to please him, after he'd slapped her right across the face, her panties still stuffed up inside her, it galled her. But her delicate fingers stroked him through the fabric nonetheless.

But it wasn't enough. She sensed him start to move and she whimpered, afraid to say anything, but letting him know she was doing it. She unzipped him and reaching into his pants, pulling him out. He was well on the way to being hard already, and Katherine couldn't help wondering how long and thick he would be by the time he was fully erect.

He didn't give her time to worry about it, just a touch on her head and she peered up into his eyes, then closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath so she wouldn't have to face his scent, and brought her lips, her mouth, to kiss his cock, just on the tip. Her hands held him gently and she slowly kissed along the his thickening length, working down to the root with little nibbles, feeling him against her cheek, anything but taking him in her mouth, not yet.

But it was her tongue, her sharp tongue he wanted. Katherine knew it perfectly well. One hand moving to his hip and holding on, she held his cock straight out, pointing at her mouth. She opened her eyes just enough to see where he was, to line up her mouth, hating the sight of him there in front of her mouth, pointed at her like a loaded weapon. Then she closed her eyes and opened her lips and let him into her mouth. His taste was vile, maybe no worse than any other man's, but vile to her. But she just kept her lips open, her tongue soft, not sharp, and let him in. The better she made it feel for him, the sooner it would be over. She took his head in and then pulled back, then a little farther, trying not to let him see the disgust on her face. Soon she was using the same high school rhythm she'd used to such good and quick effect 3 years earlier, and praying Michael had the same hair trigger that Ralph had.
 
Her sad little attempts to apologize to him only made Micheal chuckle, really she should have been smart enough not to start this trouble. He had warned her, he had actually told her twice which was really quite a lot of patience for Micheal to display. Most of the time he only had to say something once and then he would get exactly what he wanted, most of the young women intelligent enough to know what was expected of them... but while Katherine was smarter then most it seemed that she lacked the common sense that so many others displayed. Perhaps she had learned though, from the look on her face and her pathetic babbling he suspected that something had gotten through to her. Hopefully it had stuck this time, as much fun as it had been to see her reaction to his anger it would be refreshing to have Katherine behaving properly and actually doing as she was told.

It seemed however that a little bit of fear was enough to get her in line with what he wanted. Of course it wouldn't be enough for her to just give him a hand job through his pants and she had to know that, his pants unzipped a moment later and her hand working over his shaft as it hardened. Not nearly good enough for Micheal, given the work that he was in... he was about as far from a hair trigger as was possible. Having Katherine submissive to his desires was of course a massive turn on for him.

It was clear that she was miserable with the situation that she found herself in, he saw her eyes closed but even that wasn't enough to keep her face from showing how she really felt about sucking Micheal off. To Micheal it really didn't matter what she thought though, she could either learn to enjoy this or she could be miserable, he was getting what he wanted from her either way.

Except it wasn't quite what he had wanted from her, it wasn't a bad blow job, not really. It seemed she knew how to use her teeth to tease him a bit and before long had taken him in her mouth, working out a half decent rhythm along a fair amount of his cock but that just wasn't enough. Perhaps this was all it took to impress the boys that she had been with before but Micheal was a man with a great deal of experience and a tendency to get exactly what it was that he wanted. It seemed perhaps that Katherine might need a little motivation, might need to be taught how to properly please a man.

“Pathetic...” He hissed, sneering down at her as he wrapped one hand in her hair again, not pulling so tight as to hurt her but making sure that he had her full attention. “Was this enough to get off that sad little boy that I had you dump?” Of course he was trying to bring up something that might upset her, he doubted there had been any real romantic feelings there but he had no doubt that she resented him for making her cut it off. “You will keep your eyes open while you suck my cock, look up at me to see what it is that I like and what I don't like.”

Then, before he had even finished speaking his hips thrust forward while his hand in her hair held her in place, pressing his cock deeper into her mouth, feeling her gag and continuing to press forward, slowing after that gagging until he felt his balls resting against her chin. “Second of all you need to learn how to take a cock down your throat, keeping your tongue moving the entire time, and breath through your nose.” Of course she looked even more miserable now and that just made Micheal enjoy it all the more.
 
If she kept her eyes closed, Katherine could almost pretend the cock in her mouth was just wheezy old Ralph's, like she remembered back in high school. That time she had managed to weather her disgusting task, proved to Ralph she really did care about him, and then never had to do it again. With her eyes tightly closed, this really wasn't all that different -- so long as she ignored the collar around her neck chained to the head board. Well, and if she ignored the way her cheek still stung from being slapped and her throat still ached from the choking, but... and if she ignored the way she was dressed like a pretty ornament with even the lacy little panties affording her not even a scrap of dignity, especially now that they were shoved up inside her. And the fact that Michael's was just so much thicker, so much longer, just so much bigger and demanding and insistent. It was one thing to lie across the lap of a high school boy like Ralph, in his mom's Subaru up at Lookout Point, another entirely to have a man like Michael looming over her, his masculine smell and strong thighs right in her face, and the rest of him in her mouth.

But other than that, Katherine closed her eyes and pretended she was really sucking Ralph, not Michael, that everything was ok and it would be over in another 30 seconds or so, as long as she just kept sucking and slurping and making sure to apply that soft wet pressure to those same spots that had left him reaching for his inhaler. But Michael tasted horrible, like he'd been excited all evening and Katherine's tongue now had the privilege of experiencing all the evening's accumulated, festering excitement that had dripped out of him while he was abusing her and controlling her and basically getting off on being a jerk.

In her head Katherine clung to these thoughts, wrapping herself in the warm familiar comfort of the blanket of victimhood, knowing she was being wronged, but keeping her head far, far away from what was really happening, convincing herself it really wasn't so bad -- if she just kept her eyes closed.

But it really was that bad, and worse if Michael's hissed criticism was to believed. Pathetic, in fact. Katherine heard his harsh criticism, was stung by it even as she hated that she even cared what he thought of her cock sucking skills. It was just that Katherine was used to being the best at everything, used to approval, and bristling at criticism was just a lifetime habit she couldn't even help anymore.

She tried to ignore it, just kept her head bobbing with a steady rhythm, knowing it took no special effort to push boys -- and men too she assumed -- right over the edge. They were such slaves to their cocks, ready to explode at the slightest touch of something soft and warm and wet. Katherine was certain this unfortunate episode would blow over any second now. Michael was just mad about how she'd treated his fancy boots, about her talking back, so now he just needed to verbally abuse her as a way of reasserting his all important control over her. It was simple, so predictable, pathetic of him too in its own way. Katherine didn't like it, but she knew to just keep quiet and get on with what she had to do, not to talk back or yell at him, no sharp remarks that she was trying her hardest, or that it wasn't the easiest thing in the world to give a guy a stupid blow job when she might get slapped or choked at any second. No. In her heart she knew she could scream all those things at him, but she didn't.

Out of nowhere Michael's hand settled lightly on top of her head and Katherine tensed. Then a little curling of his fingers in her hair, had her eyes fluttering open and she instinctively looked up, the discomfort coming from above and needing to know what he was doing to her. Katherine felt Michael wrapping his fist in her hair. She could feel his insistent, controlling grip, but she couldn't see it.

Her eyes flinched and blinked and her bare slender shoulders hunched up like she was cowering from the painful pull she expected next, but it didn't come. She couldn't take her gaze from him though, the strange sight of his eyes moving back and forth in her view as her head bobbed on his cock. If she looked away, who knew what he would do to her? Katherine played it safe and kept sucking. Now though it was even harder for her to pretend it was just Ralph, with her eyes having to look at him and see it was Michael making her do this, and with the fist in her hair making sure she knew who was in charge.

Michael seemed to think Katherine did things like this for Donovan, reminding her how she'd broken up with him just because she'd been told to. She tried to focus on how annoying and clingy and useless Don could be, as if it somehow justified her dumping him like that, but she couldn't hide the irritated but guilty look in her eyes, the arch of her eyebrows. She knew it was wrong, but it was Michael's fault, not hers.

And of course Katherine had never done this for Don, not even that time on his birthday when he had begged. She had already given him a dictionary, and asking for a blow job too had been his idea of gratitude. No, by the time she was a wiser college girl, Katherine had known better than to let this kind of thing start up with Don. It had just been Ralph back in high school, but that had been more than enough for Katherine.

Michael had no idea what he was talking about, no idea who Ralph even was. Still, she kept quiet and just nodded, no point in correcting Michael's mistake. No point bothering him with details. She felt his cock hard against the roof of her mouth as she made the silent nodding gesture. It didn't really matter who she did this for, Ralph, Don, Michael, it was all the same. She just wanted it to end quickly, like Ralph had, a messy little finale, easy to clean up and immediately forgotten, as if it never even happened and never would again. But having to meet Michael's gaze, to see his eyes staring down at her with that crude look on his face, it made it so much harder, made Katherine want to look away so badly.

How did he know how badly she wanted to close her eyes? How could Micheal tell? He bent down just a little, like he was chastising her or teaching a little kid some important lesson. He demanded she always keep her eyes on him when sucking his cock, always paying attention to any little clues of what he liked or didn't like. Katherine moaned softly around his thick shaft in her mouth as the implications settled around her heart: he expected her to suck his cock enough it was worth saying it that way. Her insides twisted into a tight silent knot at how he seemed to think his pleasure was supposed to be some holy mission for her. But she did watch him, at least for those first moments after his order. Sure, she was afraid to disobey, but she wanted to please him in the worst way: to get him to finish and get the whole business over with.

Katherine ached to close her eyes, to pretend she was anywhere else, with anyone else, but Michael wouldn't allow even that, and she wasn't going to risk what might happen if she disobeyed him. She could handle this. Girls her age in his films did far worse. She could handle this. He'd done far worse to her already, choking her and slapping her face. She could handle this. Just keep her mouth open and think about nothing. Empty every thought from her head and let him use the hollow empty shell left behind, and then come back when he was done, when the disgusting tastes and scents and sensations were over.

Her one hand around his hip, and the other resting with just her fingertips lightly on his other muscular thigh, they were the first to realize something was wrong. It was the way he started shifting forward, pressing harder with his hips. She was still sucking, but her head stopped bobbing on him as there was no more room in her mouth to take any more of him, he was pressing so deep.

Her heart starting to flutter with panic, Katherine tried to sag backward a little as she looked up at Michael, her eyes wide in distress, but his grip in her hair tightened holding her in place, leaving her nowhere to go as his assault on the back of her mouth continued. A moment later the head of his cock got back far enough to draw a soft, short gagging sound out of her, her shoulders rounding and convulsing briefly as she lost control of her throat. Her hands flailed in panic as Michael made no attempt to pull back despite the sound of her gagging and her obvious distress. He just pressed his hips even harder, his grip tight in her hair.

Katherine resisted even though it was hopeless. She couldn't help it. One small hand pressed back hard on his pelvis, as if she thought somehow her slender arm was enough to fight off the fullness of his strength. Her other hand fluttered here and there, so agitated by so many sensations it didn't know what to do, toward the grip in her hair, the feeling of his cock splitting her lips open, even to press against his bare abdomen as if beseeching him for mercy as her body retched and then retched again from the pressure at the back of her throat.

What was he doing? Why didn't he stop? Between her gagging sounds, as the tears started to stream down her cheeks, she moaned in constant fear, her words begging him to stop rendered completely incoherent as his cock rendered her mouth capable only of awkward gulping swallowing sounds and gagging, not speaking. He started pushing in forceful, rhythmic little thrusts, as if he thought her mouth was a vagina he could somehow rape if he just kept at it -- but there was nowhere for his cock to go! Didn't he hear her gagging, see her stomach and shoulders convulsing, the saliva drooling from her mouth and running down her chest and belly? Both her hands now pushed at his pelvis and abdomen, completely uselessly, completely overpowered, but unable to control herself.

Press, gag, press, gag, press, gag... he didn't stop and she couldn't help looking up through her freely running tears into his savage eyes. Then her eyes bugged out, utterly panicked, something that felt like a little pop in her throat, maybe even a noise, and she gagged incredibly, nothing coming out of her but thick spit that ran down her chin. She hadn't eaten since that light early breakfast and would have wondered if that was something he had counted on if she were capable of coherent thought anymore. One hand pushed, the other balled up into a tight fist gripping the fabric of his pants leg as the sensation got stronger and suddenly more of him slid through her lips. Her second hand clutched at his pants leg. She gripped part of his pocket in her fist's white knuckled panic and pushed against him with all her might. But his big fist's pulling grip in her hair easily trumped her tiny fists' pushing grip on on his pants legs.

Katherine gagged and swallowed, helpless to stop the steady slow glide of his firm abdomen toward her face. Her insides spasmed around him and she struggled to understand what he'd done. Her throat ached and she couldn't draw a breath without drowning in the fluids each helpless retch brought up in her throat. He'd broken her somehow, she was sure. She couldn't talk, couldn't move her mouth, and still he slid between her lips, until his belly squooshed her nose and she felt a warm heavy thump against her chin. Katherine blinked back tears, her whole body trembling. Both hands were gripping him now, just holding on tight, so afraid his cock would just split her open. How would she breath, what was going to happen to her?

She heard his voice over her soft retching sounds and mewls of panic. As he spoke, she finally understood the sensation, his cock all the way in her throat. He was telling her what to do, like what he was doing to her was some duty he was going to expect of her, like she had to learn to do it right. There was no way she could move her tongue, not like this, not when he was killing her. She felt her face turning red with panic, retching again as every little movement made his thick intrusion tickle her gag reflex all over again, like his heavy, hairy balls were tickling her chin.

Finally, when she thought she was going to pass out, she somehow figured out how to hold still long enough for the gagging to stop and to get a little breath through her nose. It was the worst experience of her life, but at least she wasn't dead. She held desperately still, afraid of any movement setting her off again and choking on her own retched up fluids and not be able to breath again. She blinked and pleaded with her eyes because she couldn't move or control anything else, even her white knuckled fists clutching his pants legs locked and still now, afraid to move at all. She looked up in his eyes and couldn't mistake the look in his eyes, what he was doing to her was giving him pleasure, and she made a strange groaning sound around the cock in her throat at the idea this was the kind of thing he wanted her noticing, and repeating.
 
The panic in her eyes, the sheer animal terror of the experience for her only made it that much more delicious for Micheal. He knew that she couldn't do anything to stop him, her hands on him something that made it all the more enjoyable for him... a lesson for her in the futility of resisting him and for the first time in her life she would be giving a proper blow job. The tears in her eyes, a clear sign of the terror that she was feeling, was just the seasoning for Micheal, something that made the experience all the more pleasurable for him. Let her struggle and try to fight against what was happening, the sight of her drooling on herself with not even a single ounce of control only further made his point. He had her cornered like an animal and rather then trying to really fight him she was struggling against him, a futile little show before she eventually submitted and as she began to turn red Micheal knew that had to come soon... he wasn't going to let her pass out and silently he was counting down in his head, if she couldn't figure out how to breath before the countdown was complete he was going to have to pull out, starting over again.

But then, with just a few seconds left on the count down she figured it all out, her face suddenly less red as she was able to catch her breath... no doubt it was still a struggle for her but the panic wasn't quite so potent in her eyes. The smile on his face when he looked down at her wasn't just a display of pleasure at the power that he had over her but was also displaying his approval, a little bit of pride shining in his eyes as he looked down at her, almost as if he were looking at a dog that had learned a new trick.

Then she groaned, he didn't know if it was something intentional or just an animal response to the situation that she found herself in, his cock in her throat had felt fantastic to begin with, the convulsions as she struggled for air bringing him further pleasure. It was her groan though, unexpected that made his eyes roll back, his body clenching for a moment in the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him, threatened to make him cum right then and there.

He regained control of himself quickly though, pulling back slightly so that the head of his cock was resting just past the point where she had been gagging, giving her a chance to catch her breath properly and of course allow him to relax a little bit, he had been so close to making it real easy for her and that wasn't nearly as much fun as it could be.

“There we go.” He whispered to her with that pleased smile still on his face, his hips shifting back and forth slowly, always teasing the point where she would start gagging again but never pressing any deeper. “I am going to work with you Katherine, like it or not you are going to learn how to really please a man before we are done. Right now you are learning how to deep throat, the best advice I can give you is to just relax and breath through your nose... because any man you deep throat is likely to fall for you hard.” His strokes lengthened slightly, pulling out a little further then pushing in a little harder, fucking her face but not to hard in the action. “Maybe next time we can work on some other little tricks, learning to give a rim job is a pretty damn good trick.” Hell it was tempting to start that lesson right then just for the humiliation she would experience, but he suspected they would need to work up to that, he didn't want her to quit too soon.
 
Katherine's eyes were so wet and blurry she could barely see well enough to catch his smile as Michael scrutinized her performance from his lofty position over her. She was pretty sure it was a smirk more than a smile, or at least so she imagined. He seemed quite pleased with himself, proud even, like this was what he'd wanted from her all along and she hadn't disappointed him. That brought no smile to Katherine's face, though, not that she dared move her mouth in the slightest. With his cock still wedged in her throat and unable to squirm away or stop him in any way, Katherine's breath came in really short scared little puffs. She had to hold herself absolutely still for fear of triggering more of the gagging that made her feel like she might drown in her own wretchedness. But she was breathing.

In the meantime, her fingers desperately clutched at Michael's pants legs, struggling with the hopeless instinct to push his insistent presence away, yet anxiously clinging tightly to him instead, as if she somehow thought she could stop him from moving, to hold that thick plunger he'd forced down her aching throat still, so it didn't send her back into that retching hell.

Her groan was unintentional, no dignity left as her drool ran down her chin, trying to beg him, to say the word "please" but all that came out was "fhhuphff." That only made things worse. Michael's whole body tightened up, like her inability to say even a simple word around his silencing shaft was some sort of inspiration, driving him to some ecstatic new height, his thigh muscles taut under her fingers. He clearly hadn't heard the word please. Instead of finding a way to gingerly pull himself out of her choking embrace without suffocating her or snapping her vocal cords or something, he moved a little bit, like her groan was an invitation to extract a little more sadistic pleasure from her. Katherine's fingers tightened even more as she gagged a little, struggling to get her breath back as so much wetness gurgled up in her throat and threatened to drown her. She could hear the chain at her neck rattle, the bed springs squeaking a little under the panicked little kicks of her legs beneath him. Finally her retching convulsions slowly subsided once more, leaving her impaled on him, her breath coming short again as she was trapped, watched him stare down at her.

Then his eyes gave her a look like he was totally in control and she better mind herself, and he slowly,slowly pulled back. She would have been grateful to at least have her nose momentarily free of his belly's flattening force, but as soon as he moved at all Katherine's empty stomach started heaving again, struggling badly with the slow steady slide of his hard ridges and contours slipping back across the back of her throat and tongue. Finally his thick head popped free of her throat's tight embrace, but he left himself fully in her mouth, like an explorer's flag planted permanently on a new conquest.

Michael was still so deep she could feel his cock holding steady right at her gag reflex, making her whole body tense with the struggle to fight off the wearying impulse off. She did a better job than before when he'd first penetrated her, but only because her body seemed to have a much better perspective on how bad it could really get now.

At least he wasn't treating her throat like a vagina, driving right back in like a rutting animal. Having his thick shaft deep in her mouth, his grip in her hair and the collar chained to her throat was no picnic, but it could be so much worse. He stayed still for a short bit as she desperately panted around his hard cock, her tongue pressed down, trying to catch her breath, her eyes searching his face, desperate for any sign he planned to do that to her again.

But he just whispered to her like he was encouraging a pet or a little child. "There we go." The kind of words she wished she could hear from her father, but somehow only left a dull, shameful ache in her heart coming from Michael. It was like he was pleased with her. It might have been the first time in her life someone was pleased with Katherine and she vehemently wished it weren't true. Given the kinds of things he wanted from her, the kinds of things that pleased him, his pleasure wasn't a good sign for her. But it was way better than when he wasn't pleased with her. So Katherine just blinked quietly, not like she could possibly say anything in her own defense anyway with his cock pinning her tongue down down like an overmatched wrestler. She was just grateful for the short break to try to get control of herself, making wet slurpy breathing sounds as her saliva was everywhere.

It wasn't enough time and she wasn't ready, but already he started moving again, gently and slowly, smiling at her the whole time, moving his cock around in her mouth, changing the angle, challenging her with it. She gagged a little as he crossed the middle of her tongue, but then managed to stop herself. Her throat made a little useless swallowing motion as a little more of her saliva dripped from her lower lip instead. He started talking as he shifted his weight on his knees, his subtle movements in her wide open mouth exploring the limits of what she could take. A little to the left, a little to the right, and each time she gagged he pulled back just a teeny bit to let her stop and then tried it again.

It felt endless, her jaw aching, and the whole time she just couldn't get her hands to let go of his pants legs so she could cover her ears from the demeaning drivel he kept trying to drive into her like a whore's catechism. How he was teaching her to please him, men in general. She'd pleased men before, or boys at least! As if he had any clue! Like this had anything to do with pleasing. All he seemed to think mattered was a woman just submitting to a man's dominance and darkest most depraved desires. That wasn't pleasing him, it was surrendering to him.

But Michael held the floor and his speech dragged on, Katherine's voice completely stifled by the thick cock in her mouth, forced just to listen. Every movement of his cock was accompanied with some wisdom about how she could better learn to please a man, how to relax, to deep throat properly. The only sounds Katherine could make were pathetic little gagging noises that came less and less frequently as he seemed to slowly be ruining her body's protective gag reflex with his persistence. The discomfort, the desire to struggle, the urge to vomit his cock right out of her mouth every time he nudged the back of her throat, none of it went away as he continued forcing the issue. But as she tired from the struggle and relaxed as her body grew weary from the effort of so much gagging, slowly growing used to his thick presence, losing the fear she was about to die, it got just a little easier.

After a little bit she realized she was relaxed and breathing through her nose, just like he had suggested. It wasn't perfect but she was managing. He seemed to notice, and told her how a man who got to do this to her, to plunge into her throat until she hated him with all her heart, would fall head over heels for her. Perfect.

Wait, he had just done that to her. Was he... it was too sick and twisted to consider he was talking about himself, but how sick and twisted was it to try to train a women to please other men? None of it made any sense. And he wasn't actually deep throating her, not anymore at least. Other than that horrifying start, he'd kept his cock safely out of her throat, just toying with her gag reflex until she could manage what he was doing now without too much trouble.

Then she saw the change in his look, like her wearied acceptance was just taking all the fun out of it for him. She whimpered as his hips moved and then he was pressing deeper, not all the way into her throat, not to the point of that terrifying sense of his thick head squeezing through into her neck but enough to get her hands flailing in panic at his legs again.

The awful retching waves convulsed through her belly with the fullness of each deeper stroke. He was thrusting now, like her mouth was just something he could fuck, his cock pushing further and further, just short of forcing himself all the way back into her throat. She was miserable, the sounds of her own gagging so degrading in her ears. And he just kept going, a little harder, and a little harder, smiling that cruel smile the whole time and talking about other disgusting tricks he wanted to teach her to perform for him. Katherine whimpered fearfully and regretted it immediately as it seemed to be all he was waiting for, like it urged him on, spurring him to thrust that little extra forcefully, enough to pop back into her throat. He didn't drive all the way down her throat until his belly squished her nose back into her face though. He just kept teasing her, testing her limits, making her adapt to the misery as he thrust his head into her and out again, in and out, fucking her until her throat ached and her abdomen was too weak to retch any more, and still he forced his head in and out of her throat again and again, like a lesson that couldn't be taught too many time.

Katherine was pretty sure she wanted to die, and pretty sure he wouldn't let her. He was deep throating her, she understood that clearly now, and he was clearly quite happy about it, and what she wanted didn't matter at all.
 
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