Free Plaything: Volume Two by Jason Luke, Jade West

display of her body. “Last night was...” she pursed her lips as though searching for the right word.
    I cut across her brusquely, my tone harsher than I had intended. “Training,” I said. “Last night was training.”
    I got up from the bed and went to the window, sensing the acrimony and hurt in Amy’s eyes as if they were irons of fire branding my back. I stayed there, staring out at the rolling lawns and the shaded facade of the main house until at last I heard her soft footfalls shuffling uncertain and bewildered across the floor as she disappeared into the bathroom. I let out a deep breath, felt my shoulders hunch a little with the weight of what I was about to do – and then the innate senses of purpose and logic came back as if to prop me up, to put steel back into my spine.
    I went to the bathroom and hammered my fist on the door. “You have ten minutes,” I said. “Then I want you in the kitchen, naked and bent over the table.”
     
    Amy came into the kitchen with minutes to spare and stared at me belligerently from across the room. Her hair was done and she had made the effort to apply makeup. She smelled of apples and lavender – it was on her skin and in her hair. All those soft feminine scents were at odds with her expression. Her arms were folded across her chest, lifting the shape of her breasts so that the nipples stood proud, and her weight was all on one foot, thrusting out a hip in a stance that could have been defiant or provocative.
    My money was on defiant.
    “Do you have a problem?” I asked, the tone of my voice sounding like gravel in my throat.
    “Yes,” Amy said. “I don’t understand you.”
    I shrugged. “You don’t have to.”
    She narrowed her eyes into bright arrow heads, the color around her irises flecked with little spears of gold. “I do if you’re going to train me.”
    “No,” my voice cracked like a whip and I pushed myself away from the countertop and closed the gap between us with three quick strides. “You don’t have to know me at all. You just have to obey me. I need to understand you – the way you work in order to find the most effective way to train you for sale.” I thrust a finger under her nose, “But let’s make one thing clear. You don’t need to know me, and I don’t need to know you. This isn’t an affair – this is a physical relationship soley for the purpose of submissive training.”
    Amy blanched under the weltering sting of my lecture and I saw the strike of every cruel word cause a little wound that filled me with regret and remorse. Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them away with a flutter of her eyelids. I could see her lips twist into a snarl of retort, but whatever she was about to say stilled on her lips. Her eyes lost the flare of defiance and it was like a light being extinguished. She turned cold, her gaze distant and remote.
    “Very well,” she whispered. “If that’s the way you want it.”
    “It’s the way things need to be,” I said through an expression carved in granite. “For both our sakes.”
     
    With her legs spread wide, the lace of her panties stretched between her knees, and her body folded over the edge of the table, Amy turned her face so that a cheek was pressed to the cold wooden surface. She was utterly open to me. I could see the soft pouting folds of her sex between her parted legs and the knuckles of her spine through the milky flesh of her back. Her breasts were pressed flat and bulging from below where her arms reached out and clutched at the far edge of the countertop.
    I unzipped my trousers, stepped out of my clothes, and then went around the edge of the table until the hard thrust of my cock was a provocation close to her face. “Suck me,” I said, and despite my resolve to remain detached, I heard the thickness of my own desire in the back of my throat. “Take me deep.”
    Amy moved her head closer to where I stood, and opened her mouth wide. I felt the soft flutter of her