Free Enslaved by Claire Thompson Page B

breaths.”
    Rae forced herself to draw in more air, to slow her ragged breathing. She counted to three and exhaled. “That’s better,” she heard him say. “Again.” In and out she breathed, counting and exhaling, willing herself to relax. She kept her eyes closed, soothed in spite of herself by the sound of his voice, deep and gentle. “Breathe. Yes, that’s good. Again.”
    After a while, she did feel calmer. Her heart had slowed to a beat closer to normal and she didn’t feel so dizzy. “Much better,” Sam said. “I’m going to do your underarms first. You just stay still and you’ll be fine.”
    She didn’t resist when she felt him lifting her arms over her head, stretching them out on the bathroom tile. She startled when the warm washcloth moved over her left armpit. “It’s okay,” Sam said. “You’re doing fine.” He rubbed some of the shaving cream into her skin. “Now, stay still. I’m going to use the razor. I promise not to hurt you.”
    She felt the cool blades drawing over her skin in smooth, even lines, and then the washcloth again, warm and soft. He did the other underarm and then patted them both dry. “Not so bad, eh?”
    Rae opened her eyes. Sam was smiling at her and she almost smiled back. Instead she closed her eyes again, turning her face away. “Legs next,” she heard him say. “Put your feet flat on the floor, knees wide.”
    The razor moved in slow, careful strokes up and down her calves, followed by his fingers. Again he patted her dry. “Lift your hips,” he ordered. “I’m going to put a folded towel under you so I have better access to your pretty little cunt.”
    Rae thought about refusing. Shaving hadn’t been part of their bargain, at least not in her mind. But as she thought over the terms of their peculiar agreement, they had been absurdly vague. His words played in her head. You’ll be my sex slave. My toy to do with as I will. You’ll serve your time naked and chained.
    Still reeling from the shock of his catching her out, she hadn’t exactly had the leverage or been in the frame of mind to insist on a specific contract for her “punishment” as he’d termed it. And wasn’t it better to be lying here, clean and relatively safe, rather than locked in some prison for god knew how long? At least this stint was brief, in the scheme of things. She would get through these few weeks and then she’d move out of New York and put Sam Ryker out of her mind forever.
    Sam placed a folded towel under her butt and pushed at her knees, forcing her legs farther apart. He took a pair of small barbers’ scissors from the shaving kit and carefully trimmed her pubic hair. Rae bit her lip and clenched her fists, trying to keep perfectly still as the sharp scissors snipped close to her skin.
    When he was done, Sam draped the warm, wet washcloth over her pussy. He pressed his palm over her vulva and moved it in a slow, sensual circle that, in spite of her fear at what was to come, felt good. After a moment, he removed the washcloth.
    He squirted baby oil onto his fingers and more directly onto her pubic mound. He ran his lubricated fingers gently over her outer labia, coating them with the soft oil. He picked up the razor and Rae’s eyes widened, her chest tightening with apprehension.
    “This is a real trigger for you, isn’t it?” Sam spoke in a musing tone, and she got the feeling he didn’t really expect an answer. “We’ll have to explore that more,” he added, still as if to himself. He looked at her directly, adding, “I’m going to shave your cunt now, slave. Stay still and relax.”
    Rae had no choice but to comply. She closed her eyes again, trying to let her mind drift away, but her every nerve and muscle was strained as he ran the sharp silver blades again and again over her mons and labia until she was smooth as a baby.
    Again he draped the soft, wet washcloth over her skin, pressing his palm against her clit. He removed the cloth and ran his fingers