Angel And Sharae - The Slave Girls Trilogy Book 3

An eBook By Rod Harden and Alison McKenna.

She twisted and turned, wobbling atop her tortured toes, and held aright by the aching tug of her hair. The needle-like stabs fell relentlessly. Preston sought out every tender nook of her screaming body that he could reach.

And as always, his cruelty ignited her lust in a way gentleness never could. The slick ache between her thighs began to eclipse the anguish that racked the rest of her body. Her dance of pain gradually slowed, transforming itself into a steady thrusting and gyration of her hips.

She suddenly became aware that her Master had stopped. He held her close to him, his lips pressed against the leather that covered her lips. She felt his hand cupping her sopping sex. His fingers pushed aside the crotch-rope and thrust into her. She gasped and came hard.

She felt his warm sweet breath at her ear. "I love to punish you," he whispered.

She should thank him, but the only response she could manage was a wordless gurgle.

"Hush, my precious," he said soothingly. "I have one more surprise for you. The shoes were only first part. To find the rest, you have to take a little stroll."

He pulled away, leaving her once again perched precariously on her new ballet shoes. Gagged, bound, blindfolded, and punished, she almost forgot where she was.

"Go ahead, Angel," said Preston. "Just start walking. The ceiling track will guide you."

Yes, she told herself. I'm in our room. Next to the bed. With Master beside me.

She pictured the ceiling track and remembered the curved path it took overhead. She lifted her right foot and took one deliberate step forward.

"Good girl," he said. "Keep going."

She took another hesitant step. Then another. Her toes and ankles protested with each move, but she persisted. She could do it, if her Master wanted her to.

A change in the pull on her hair told her she had come to the first turn of the track. She turned in the direction of the tug and continued. She began to cry again from the pain. One step at a time, she told herself.

Preston encouraged her with soft words and occasional smacks on the ass. "That's my girl," he cooed. Then, smack!

Angel squealed and kept going. She didn't have much farther to go. She negotiated the last turn and headed into the last stretch. It was getting easier to walk on the extreme heels. By the last few steps, it felt almost normal.

Finally, she felt her hair being pulled straight back and she knew she was at the end of the track.

Preston stood behind her and began to remove her blindfold. "I'm so proud of you," he said.

"Hank oo, haffer," she mumbled, trying to say "thank you, Master."

She blinked in the sudden light of the room.

He stood in front of her holding a small square box. Jewelry? she thought.

"This is the other part of the surprise," he said. He opened the hinged jewelry box. Inside was a ring with a single, huge diamond setting. She looked from the ring to her Master's face. He was beaming. "I'm going to marry you, Angel."

Whatever she tried to say was drowned out by great heaving sobs of joy. So overcome was she, that she hardly felt him cut the rope from her hair. He led her to a low dresser and bent her over it. With her chest pressed against the smooth wood and her arms still stringently bound in back, she felt him slip the ring on her finger.

Then he cut off the crotch-rope and spread her legs. She heard his zipper and felt his cock bobbing and poking against her dripping cunt. He guided himself in, and fucked her fast and hard, grunting his brutal love deep inside her.

At last she was on the bed, gag and ropes removed. Her Master cradled her in his arms, and she drifted into a contented, blissful sleep.

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