Master and Slave. Chapter 3: Breaking In

Chapter 3: Breaking In

The sound of the whip slicing through the air was different now — less of a threat, more of a promise.

Jenika cried out as it struck across her back, a sharp red line forming beneath the lash. She could barely tell where the pain ended and her desire began. She was folded over the bench, wrists strapped to the legs, ankles secured wide to the floor. The restraints left her exposed, vulnerable, and utterly immobile.

Alex stood behind her, whip in hand, his eyes calm and unreadable. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His silence was part of the punishment.

The next strike landed across her ass. She flinched, moaned, struggled — but the bonds held.

“Seven, Master,” she gasped.

The discipline continued, each lash deliberate and controlled. He painted her skin with precision, and she felt each one — not just in her body, but in her soul. He wasn’t trying to destroy her. Not yet.

He was reshaping her.

By the time he reached fifteen, she was sobbing, her cheek pressed against the leather of the bench, drool sliding from her lips. The pain was unbearable — and still, she whispered the number with each stroke. Dutiful. Obedient.

“Fifteen, Master…”

Alex finally set the whip down, stepping into her field of view. He crouched beside her, brushing sweat-matted hair from her face.

“You’re learning,” he said.

Jenika nodded weakly, her voice broken. “Yes, Master…”

“Good.” He stood and walked to the table again. This time, he returned with a silver hook — cool, glinting under the firelight.

Her breath hitched.

“This is the part,” he said, “where you learn who you really are.”

He slid the hook between her legs slowly, easing it in while her body trembled and twitched. She was already wet — soaked, even — and that pleased him. Her humiliation, her pain, her shame… it made her ache.

She whimpered as he locked the base of the hook to the chain of her collar, forcing her to stay arched, stretched. One wrong move, and it would tug deeper.

Jenika moaned softly. “Please…”

Alex raised a brow. “Please what?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“That’s the point,” he replied. “You don’t need to know anything anymore. You just need to feel.”

He reached underneath her again, fingers brushing against the hook, pressing. The sensation was overwhelming — pleasure laced with the raw sting of pain, her muscles still burning from the whip.

“I want you to say it,” he ordered. “Say you’re my property.”

“I… I’m your property, Master…”

“Again.”

“I belong to you, Master.”

“Louder.”

“I’m your slave — your thing, your toy — I’m nothing without you!”

The words burst out of her like a confession. Her body shook. Her pride cracked and fell away. Alex grinned, slow and satisfied.

“That’s more like it.”

He leaned down, whispering against her ear.

“This isn’t the end, little one. It’s just the first layer I’ve stripped away. You’ll forget your name. You’ll forget your old life. And when I say the word…” He tugged the leash sharply. “You’ll crawl.”

Jenika whimpered.

Then he unhooked the restraint from her collar, removed the hook slowly — too slowly — and lifted her into his arms. Her body was limp, spent, but he held her like a possession, carrying her to the thick rug in front of the fire.

He laid her down gently — the first gentleness he had shown all night.

“Rest. Tomorrow, we go deeper.”

Her eyes fluttered shut.

And for the first time, she wanted to be broken.

To be continued

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