Slack: A Day in the Life of Ford Aston

She lets out a squeal and lifts her head. My hand automatically slides around the front of her throat. I palm it gently, then reach up under her jaw and press my thumb into the hollow under her ear, forcing her to turn her head towards me. She meets my gaze directly this time. In full defiance. And then she falters and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, to calm herself. “Do I make you anxious, pet?”

She swallows and nods.

“But you can leave any time you want. And yet, you never do. Why?”

She squints her eyes at me.

“Why do you come here? Why do you let me treat you like this? Why do you put up with me?” I wait to see if she’ll talk so I can throw her out and be done with it, but she holds her silence and redirects her gaze so it’s not trained on me. I rest my hands on the top of her shoulders and she shivers as I push my chest into her back. My hands drop down to her ni**les and I twist them, not hard, just enough to make her moan. One hand remains on her breast but the other caresses its way down her stomach and rests on her hip. “Come with me,” I whisper in her ear.

I lead her over to the buffet table in the dining room and remove a pair of handcuffs from a drawer. She presents her hands behind her back before I even ask, and my dick begins to grow as I fasten them carefully around her wrists. “You know what to do,” I tell her softly.

She backs up a little, then bends over so her face is turned to the side, resting on the buffet, her arms are restrained in the small of her back, and her legs are slightly apart.

“Open your legs more, pet. I need to know you want it, or I’ll send you home craving.”

She widens her stance and then widens it again. Her eyes are open, looking up at me in defiance.

“Do you realize it’s against the rules of play to look me in the eye?” I ask her.

She considers me, almost thoughtfully. Like I just asked her what she wanted for dessert. And then she nods yes.

“I should throw you out right now. Do you want me to be done with you?”

She shakes no.

“Then look away, bitch.”

That word is like a slap and she closes her eyes, opens them, and redirects her gaze to the muted gray-colored walls. I smack her hard on the left cheek as soon as she relaxes and she yelps.

She’s allowed to cry out in pain or pleasure, so I ignore this and pull her hair with my other hand, forcing her head back. “Now you may look at me, whore.” She does. She knows my patience has run its course. “You want to press me? You want the nice spankings? You want to come in here and try and control me?” My hand comes down hard on her ass and the redness appears at the same moment she cries out and pulls away. But I’ve still got a tight hold on her hair, so that snaps her back to attention.

I lean into her neck again and whisper, “You forgot to count, pet.” And then I smack her twice and her fingers silently call out the numbers. One. Two. I pull her hair again and she whimpers this time. I’ve been rough with this pet before, but never angry. I rarely get angry, but I feel it tonight. I want to be angry.

I step back and take a breath because I don’t want to send her away yet. I want to f**k this bitch. Bad. She’s been testing me for months and she’s still mine at the moment, so I will take her. But I need to get a hold of this anger, at least long enough to get off and send her on her way. I grab the key to her cuffs and turn towards the bedroom. “Follow,” I call out as I walk away.

Her feet slap against the polished tiles as she runs to catch up with me. Once inside the bedroom I point to the bed. “Sit.” She takes a resolving breath and sets herself atop the white down comforter.

Once again I ask myself why? Why the f**k do these bitches put up with me? I sit down next to her, close enough to make her whole body move with my weight on the mattress. “Lie across my lap.” She puts her knees up on the bed and then bends over, sticking her ass way out, because her hands are still bound behind her back, so she’s forced to lower her face to my thigh and slide herself up into position. Which also forces her face to drag along my hardened dick, only the fabric of my jeans between her hot breath and my cock.

This takes the anger away a little, because that right there, that was clever. And it tells me a lot of things. One—she’s OK with my insults. Two—she’s still not giving in to me, regardless of how well she’s following the rules. And three—she wants to be f**ked just as bad as I want to f**k her.

I’m not into being mean for the hell of it. I like them to submit, that’s all. I like to be in control. I like to call the shots. I like to be obeyed unconditionally. And almost all of the girls who make it beyond the first appointment do that, and do it well. But this girl has been skating on the edge of compliance the entire time she’s been my pet.

She needs to go.

Tonight is her last night, so I’m going to enjoy her to the fullest before I send her packing.

I unlock her handcuffs and slide them off, tossing them on to the floor with a hard clunk. “Ready, pet?”

She nods yes.

“I’m going to turn your cheeks bright red for your disobedience. But I’ll make it worth it if you’re a very good girl.” She starts nodding her head when my hand comes down full force on her ass again, making both her legs kick up as she signs off a one. I slap them back down. “That’s not a good example of perfect behavior, pet.” I smack her again, harder, and this time she buffers the pain by sinking into my lap. I caress her ass for being good, rubbing her roundness, then stroking the back of her thighs, stopping in the dent behind her knee where I trace small, light circles.