Chapter 3

I couldn’t even make myself cum anymore without feeling empty. Five nights in a row I’d locked my dorm door, spread my legs on the bed, and shoved my biggest dildo into my cunt while my other hand twisted my clit, replaying every brutal second of the last two times. I’d cum—hard, squirting all over my sheets—but the second the aftershocks faded I was aching again, holes clenching around nothing, mind screaming for real cock, real hands, real degradation. My vibrator felt like a toy. My fingers were pathetic. I needed to be used. I needed Master. By Saturday afternoon I was a fucking mess—pussy dripping every time I crossed my legs in the library, nipples scraping against my shirt like live wires. I shaved everything again, smooth and bare, then slipped into the tight red dress I’d bought that morning. Short enough that if I bent over anyone would see my bare cunt and ass. No bra, no panties. Just skin and need.

I walked into the bar at 8:58. Master saw me the second I stepped through the door. His eyes dragged over the red fabric like he already owned what was underneath. He jerked his head toward the STAFF ONLY door—no words, just that sharp command. I obeyed instantly, heels clicking down the hallway, cunt already slick. He followed close behind, locked the door the moment we were inside the back room.

He didn’t speak until the collar clicked around my throat—thick black leather, heavy D-ring in front. The leash attached with a metallic snap. He gave it a tug and I stumbled forward on my knees before I even realized I’d dropped. “Good pet,” he murmured, voice low and rough. He led me into the sex room.

It looked different. A long black sofa now sat directly in front of the bed, angled so whoever sat there had a perfect view. A small camera on a tripod in the corner, red light already blinking. My stomach flipped, but my clit throbbed harder.

He poured the usual three glasses—vodka burning, that sweet-chemical aphrodisiac sliding down like liquid sin. I drank them fast, throat working, already tasting what was coming. Then he looped the leash through a thick chain hanging from a ceiling hook right in the middle of the room and locked it short. “Kneel. Stay.” He left.

The chain kept me upright on my knees, back straight, tits pushed out, dress riding up so my bare cunt was on full display. The drug hit fast this time. Heat bloomed low in my belly, spread like wildfire through my veins. My skin prickled, nipples turned to aching points, my pussy lips swelled and parted on their own, dripping down my inner thighs. Thoughts fractured. I’m a good pet. I need this. I’m so fucking empty. What if he brings the others again? What if he films me? God I want him to film me. My head felt feverish, cheeks burning, vision softening at the edges. I was already panting, hips rocking uselessly, trying to rub my clit against nothing.