Capítulo 4: Master Donatore
She could feel the pressure building, pressing painfully. She could barely breathe, the pressure. "Master Donatore?" She stayed where she knelt on the floor, watching him working at his desk, his back to her. He didn't move, didn't even attempt to turn and look at her. Even if she wanted to, even if she would dare, she couldn't. The metal suit, whatever it was, she could feel it inside her. "Please, Master Donatore," she pleaded. This made him perk up slightly. She wondered if it would be something she would regret or. . . .
"Oh Willow, what is it now? Can you not see I'm working, cucciola?" He grunted, turning to face her. She sat on the small rug, on which he had placed her to keep her wet hair from dripping on his expensive wood floor, now long since dried. "Oh," mock disgust, "you just went a few hours ago. I told you, we go when I finish my work. We have a schedule now, remember?" He reached down, moulding his hand to her face, pinching her cheek roughly. "Don't worry, I'm almost done. I will take you on a walk soon." She winced. He was already treating her like a trained pet, a disobedient puppy with established rules. After that whole ordeal, the one and only thing she wanted was to hide in some forgotten corner, forever.
"Please, Master Donatore." He yawned, dramatically arching his back in an exaggerated stretch, his eyes making direct contact with hers. What is he thinking now? He leaned forward, curling his hand gently around her neck, trailing his fingers lightly down her chest, sending a tingling sensation through her body. He grabbed the glass of water on the desk.
"I don't think you even tried," he sighed. "I have gotten others to go three times as long as you have. It's almost an insult to my reputation." He swirled the liquid aimlessly. "Perhaps you would learn better holding more at a time." She eyed the glass wearily. "Go ahead, drink up," he grinned, holding the glass to her lips.
"I can't!"
"Sure you can." He pulled her hair back, pouring the liquid down her throat, chasing the air out, choking her out, tumbling down her chest. "Now stop that." He slapped her, sending her into a fit of coughs. He began pouring the water into her mouth again, forcing her to swallow. She felt the pressure building again, like a growing mass pushing outward, the pain drumming through her. "There!" he smiled, "you did it." He poured the remaining water over her head. "I'm so very proud of you." She took short shallow breaths, trying to hide her gasps. "How do you feel?" He leaned forward, pressing her blatter, intensifying it. She bit her lip hard, not wanting to answer at all, but the dangerous glint in his eyes forcing it out.
"It hurts."
"Well, you should have thought of that before you refused to go earlier. Besides, I should be done in a moment. I've still got a few things to do left, and you some practice."
"What?" He leaned back in his chair, taking in the sight of her. She shifted, the circular seal around the plug he had inserted seemed to also serve as extreme discomfort. Was he really this obsessive? Did he think she would urinate on his rugs like a puppy?
"Well," he sighed, "I was getting bored with my work anyway." He gave her a soft smile as he stood up, shifting papers back into piles. "Now then." He grabbed the leather leash off the counter. Should I feel relieved, or ashamed? I'm not sure if this can be considered a victory. "Giù." She gave him a puzzled look "All the way down." He forced her face down on her hands with his foot.
"Agh!" she gasped. Her bladder squeezed against her thighs. She bit the inside of her mouth tighter, scrapping a layer of skin, swallowing the pain whole.
"Giù, devo metterti il guinzaglio." He clasping the latch to her collar. "Vieni ora, per la tua passeggiata, amico mio. È ora di annaffiarti fuori." He tugged the lead, urging her to follow. She stumbled to her feet, grabbing the leather as he started his brisk walk out of the study. "Let go of that, cucciolo volubile, that is not yours to hold."
"I-"
"Now, now, must I discipline you?" He started down the stairs, smiling, but she didn't let go. He would not yank the sore collar, swallowing alone hurt, but not this. No.
"But the coll-"
"Will stay this way until you behave decently." He gave the leash an extra tug, but she held it tighter. "Bene, dovrò fare qualcosa ora suppongo. Come along outside." He led her out onto a wide brick path. The hot clay scrapped her fumbling feet, struggling to keep up with his long strides as the hot liquid swirled inside. It led into a large wide garden that split into multiple paths, but he led her straight through, out of the garden to a large pond. "Now, giù." She frowned. "On your knees." Reluctantly, she did as she was told. "No."
"What?"
"Oh it's not your fault, I just changed my mind is all." She swallowed harshly, waiting for him to clarify.
"I think. . . ." He walked around her. "On your back."
"Master Donatore?"
"Do as I say, woman!" He pulled the leash back harshly, tumbling back hard. She glared up at him, fingering the flaring pain through her neck. "I must do something about that," he muttered under his breath. "Lay down, will you!" pressing his foot through her chest. "Head down!" She did as she was told, watching as he lowered himself down over her. She parted her legs eagerly, the anticipation of the relief chilling her. "When I open this, you will hold until I say so, yes?"
"Yes," she gasped.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Master Donatore." He smiled, placing her arms up above her head.
He twisted the metal open between her legs, but she still felt something there, inside. She felt it, slowly easing out of her until he held it before her face. It was worse now, now that it was gone, but she tried to redirect her eyes to the thing in his hand. It looked, simply, like an arched plug. A black four-inch long plug. But. . . . why? She felt her grip slipping, straining to keep in the warm trickling liquid in, but it was no use. He watched it trickle out slowly, ignoring her obvious straining effort.
"Must I make you drink more?" he asked, his fingers playing at her lower wet lips, distracting her, releasing the torrent into the grass. "Oh, how lovely." He sighed. "But I still have not said to." He pushed the plug back in abruptly, forcing out a painful yelp. Her blatter still felt so full, and yet, much better. But now, he was undressing. He had taken off his jacket, then his pants and. . . . her breath caught in her throat. He was standing before her, naked from his waist down. "Well," he knelt over her, "it seems I must teach you to heed what I say." He reopened her legs, pinning them down between the sharp weight of his knees as he did something that made the plates over her breasts recede.
"Master Donatore, I-" the plug was released and replaced. His body placed itself masterfully, pushing himself deeper in. Some of the urine escaped, but most remained as a harsh rhythm was formed, his hands gripping each breast with tearfully painful grips. But then she felt a new surge of hot liquid churning inside her, gushing in a renewed force, pumping his urine inside her, trapping a long drought full. When he did finally run dry, he continued rocking her, but she felt his hands sliding down from the tip of her breast, tapping the metal surface, down to the soft skin stretched over her arched hips, down the slopes to the blatter, pressing firmly down. "Ahh- god," she gasped, pain flaring red in her mind. She looked down at her slightly bloated stomach before she felt her head thrust back.
He grabbed the plug that he previously tossed and slid it down her throat, she could taste the salty surface, a slick substance that she wished had not been there, wishing she could ignore its sweet undeniable existence. She knew what that meant, and she fought it back to the back of her mind. As much as she wished to, she couldn't excuse it. Thinking too much, she knew, would be fatal.
He produced a second plug and inserted inside her again, before standing and walking towards a stone wall primarily hidden by a standing of trees and brush. She didn't bother closing her legs, nor did she dare to lift her head from the grass. It wouldn't do any good as he would repeatedly penetrate her at will as he already had, wrenching them open if need be. There was a tingling sense of survival, knowing there would not only be "punishments," but precautions taken there-of. He pulled along a small hose, the thought of what he would do that he hadn't already done that he planned to do with that, it made her shiver. She didn't know much about sex play, but this was pointedly a one-sided entertainment, discipline.
"Don't move," he said, kicking her arms back behind her head again. She bit at the plug bitterly. She didn't dare, there was no denying his creativity, and it was terrifying. He knelt back down onto her thighs, letting the cold water crash down on her stomach. She twitched and writhed under the invisible bonds over her wrists and screaming thighs, every movement thrashing hot liquid pain. "Good girl," he smiled. "Such a good listener." His eyes gleamed, watching her body rippling under the hose. He dragged the hose down slowly to her vulva, letting the cold water dance around the stretched lips of her pussy, spraying harmlessly off the plug. She writhed and moaned as the cold water pressed nerves erratically, setting her body on fire. She squeezed her eyes shut, thrashing her teeth down into the plug as he slid the hose up and down the slits, the shock of the cold water nipping her. She was feeling lightheaded now, sick. She couldn't breathe.
Just when she was sure she couldn't take anymore, the hose was removed. Wearily, she opened one eye to see him shifting further up so his knees were on the ground. She had been so distracted, she didn't know when he had moved them. He lifted her legs into the air, sending an internal tidal wave back. And then it happened. With two fingers, he pried an opening big enough for the hose and thrust it in her ass, cold water shooting inside. Before she could think, she was thrashing, pulling away, frantically hitting anything she could reach. Her eyes had become somewhat blurred, so her blind defence did little to nothing. In one swift movement, he gripped both wrists in a fist, squeezing them to show just how weak she was, unable to stop the building pressure.
"And you were doing so well." She pulled weakly, feeling more and more lightheaded, more and more pressure building, more and more cold water rushing between her legs. He fought the plug from her mouth and pressed it up past the retreating hose. She could feel tears now, fighting them back as he lifted her wrists up, lifting her up until she stood on her feet. "How do you feel?" She looked down at her bloated stomach as if she was in early pregnancy. Her blatter felt heavy and thick, she could feel the water sloshing through spaces she knew had to be her organs. "Speak." He was walking now, leading her to the edge of the pond.
"It. . . . I-" she stammered, she couldn't seem to form a sentence. She couldn't breathe, she felt like she was going to pass out. ". . . .hurts."
"Oh?" She was startled by the sound of water, flinching at the cold splash before being pulled in behind. "You simply must learn to hold it, dear." He led her waist-deep into the water before he let go of her. The mere presence of the water, being around so much water, it was maddening. "On your knees." She looked down at the water with uncertainty, it wasn't deep, but it would be for her on her knees. She knelt slowly down, tilting her head so it was just above the surface. The water was cold, but that didn't bother her so much anymore, not now. "Will you resist me again?" She felt her throat stiffen. Damn, he was nuts!
"N-no," she stammered. He raised an eyebrow expectantly. "No Master Donatore," she quickly corrected. He smiled at this. He was toying with her. That smile, that was the only warning she got before he thrust her head underwater, rubbing his dick on her lips, trying to squeeze past them inside as she choked. He pulled her head out, scraping the hair from her face.
"It's getting cold," he said, looking down at her. "Warm it up for me." He thrust her head back down, pressing his dick in her mouth. The further he thrust into her mouth, the more water seeped in. She felt as if the water was pressing her bladder, pain spinning her in her head with every current. Ten seconds went by, and she started to feel her lack of air, trying to push against the hand holding her down, but she couldn't. He pushed her head further down so she could feel course hair scraping her waterlogged nose, loosening bubbles from them giving way to the water to surge up. She reached back at the hand, gripping it desperately, even sucking as if the object in her mouth should have been an airway and was just clogged. His hand tightened into a fist, griping her hair. Suddenly, his grip loosened, allowing her to escape. She gasped between fits and belches, swaying slightly.
"Everything that happens to you happens at my accord, accept nothing from anyone from me. All things in or out. . . ." he dug his thumbnail into her bottom lip, as if contemplating her lesson before thrusting her head down again onto his cock, trapping an exhaled gasp sealed inside. She sucked desperately as if there would be air, should be air, gripping his wrist as he began to drag her back between his legs, this time he never lifted her head. She pushed against the slick waterbed, reaching up to lift herself against his legs or hips. Slowly, she felt the water level dipping down her face, so close, so damn close. It slipped further and further down until it was dancing just above her nose, tantalizing. He held her firm, pressing her face further into his pubic hair, forcing longer painful breaths, water burning through her nose, forcing her to suck in order to breathe. He dragged her back up to the grass, holding her full weight as she no longer had the strength to even kneel. She moaned, now feeling almost three times heavier than before.
"See, you don't need to ask a thing, I know exactly what you need," he said, stroking her cheeks. He pulled her halfway off, causing her to gag slightly as it tugged out of her throat. "Don't ever demand anything from me again." He released his grip completely, sending her tumbling to the ground. "Understand?"
"Ye-" she started, but was cut off by a string of coughs.
"Good enough," he sighed, waving her absently. He rolled her back onto her back, finally releasing the plugs.
Status de energia semanal
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