Part 3

Lawrence walked out the door, with a gleam in his eye, and wicked grin dancing across his lips.

She heard the door close, and slid off the table. Looking down at herself, she smiled Faint bruises crossed her breasts, and her inner thighs.

Trying to steady herself, she ambled to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, testing for the right temperature, she stepped in. Taking her time, washing herself lightly, skin still sore. Feeling like she got ran over by a truck.

Remembering Stephen's plan, she walked over to her closet. She pulled out a white, spaghetti strapped sun-dress, and her immaculate red sandals. Going over to her dresser, she selected her matching white bra and panties.

Taking her time getting dressed, making sure nothing gets wrinkled, she doesn't pay attention to the clock that is above her bed. Adjusting herself in the mirror, she sees Stephen in the reflection. Turning around, smiling softly, she says,

"Hello... you're kind of early aren't you?"

Stephen had an unreadable expression on his face. Walking up behind her, he runs his rough hands over her soft body. Grabbing her by the waist, he turns her back to him, and pushes her on the bed face down.

He lifts the back of her dress, inspecting her back, her legs. Lifting her hips, Stephen then pulls her white cotton panties down to her ankles. Running his finger over her most private places, he begins to feel welts. That weren't there yesterday. Running his finger around her, she is beginning to get wet. He slams two fingers deep inside. She winces, and stifles a scream.

He begins to work his fingers, strumming her like a bass guitar. With his free hand, he pushes her back, controlling her movement. Quickly pulling his fingers out, he flips her over. She is looking at him with great interest. Her mouth is partly open, as if to speak.

Stephen is standing over her, glaring with intent. He takes his hand thats slick with her own juices, and smears it across her lips.

"You want to act like a slut, so Ill treat you like a slut. Now, lick your lips. Enjoy your taste, God knows how many others have."

She lowers her eyes in shame, licking hr lips slowly. Her taste is on her tongue, her cheeks enflaming. She has nothing to say to his comment.

He lifts her dress up to her shoulders. She can feel his eyes burning her. He takes his left hand and presses her into the bed.

He lifts her bra up off her breasts in a single movement. He sees fresh bruises surrounding her nipples. His blue eyes narrow, his voice barely a whisper,

"This is how you spend your day? When I tell you to clean this house, and to behave, this is what you do?"

She opens her mouth, to defend herself, but Stephen presses a finger to her lips.

"I made a request. You did not do what was needed. Once again, I find that you disobeyed me."

She looks at him, her hazel eyes flashing. She knows it would be useless to speak, so she just listens to him.

"In two days, Mine, you have broke the rules. Im not understanding why you like to disappoint me. Im not understanding why you like to anger me. I figured the lesson of you sleeping on the floor was enough."

At these words, she struggles against his hand. She opens her mouth, words dripping with acid off her lips,

"If you must know Sir, I was cleaning the house. If you must know Sir, I was in the middle of cleaning the bathroom when your little friend stopped by for a visit. Seemed to him that I was better suited to whine, than be a house bitch."

He looks down at her, with laughter in his eyes, he gives a sigh, and speaks,

"Do you know what you want, Sophie? Do you know what you crave?"

He puts her bra back over her breasts, and starts pulling her dress back down. He stops at her stomach, and pulls out a single clothespin out of his pocket. He places the clamp on her belly button without warning.

"Which is more important, Mine? Lawrence's pain? Or my rules?"

With that question, she bites down on her mark, looking away, glancing at the floor. Her body begins to tremble. She really has no answer for him. And even if she did, she would be too afraid to speak.

Alex slowly turns the doorknob. The door swings open, quiet. She hears her heartbeat crashing in her ears. She tries so hard to stand straight on her own, but she cannot.

"Kneel. On all fours. Head lowered, don't move."

Alex walks into the very dark, ear splitting quiet room. He turns on a single light, bathing his senses in white. In purity, in cleanliness. He walks over to a large wooden rectangular table, and sees a simple black leash. With a grin, he picks it up.

Walking back to her, he stops in the doorway. Admiring her perfect body, her red hair falling into her face, the simple collar contrasting against her pale slender neck. He sees her hands, spread open against the floor, the backs of her soft feet, unblemished. He feels himself growing aroused at the sight of her, at her blind obedience.

He shakes the thoughts off his mind. Im just a few short moments, she will be under his hand. He can be patient for a little while longer.

He walks up to her, mere inches from her. With the leash in his hand, he grabs her head up by her hair. She winces from the rough hold, eyes lowered in submission.

He leans down and snaps the leash to the single ring on her collar. Testing her, he jerks it down, and she lowers herself to the hardwood floor. He jerks it up, and she raises to sit on her calves, kneeling, head lowered, hands at her sides.

Finally impressed with her, he gives a small tug, and she's once more on her hands and knees. Alex walks her into the room, guiding her to a king size bed, in the center of the room. He jerks the leash up, and she crawls up onto the bed, kneeling at the edge.

He unclasps her leash, smiles grimly, and says to her,

"Undress. Set your clothes at the foot of the bed. Then crawl to the center, and get on your hands and knees. Press your cheeks to the sheets. Remain so, until directed otherwise."

She kneels up,. her dress pooling at her knees. Reaching behind, she slowly unzips the back, sliding the straps off her arms, revealing a silk white bra. She unclasps it, sliding it down, her nipples already hard. Rising up on her knees, she slowly wiggles out of her panties. She slides the dress off, fully bare, chill bumps breaking out all over her. She moved her arms up to her chest, crossing them, to cover herself. and to get warm.

"What are you doing? Don't cover yourself. If I wanted you to hide your skin, I would have offered you a blanket. But I did not, did I?"

She dropped her arms, resting them at her sides. She tried to sit still, to not reveal her trembling. But with Alex's blue eyes caressing every inch of her, she felt a tinge of red spreading slowly across her face.

Naked, but for her collar, she thinks that she should be proud of herself. She has aroused an interest in someone so cold, aloof. She feels no shame in her openness, so she decides to spread her legs, revealing butterfly wings, so clean, so pink.