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The more he was around Lisette, the stronger the urges and the more difficult they were to ignore. He didn’t necessarily want to f**k her. In his frustration, he thought of her as just one more of those uppity bitches that he hated so passionately. The more he had to deal with her, the more he wanted desperately to put her in her place. He wanted to break her, to humiliate and degrade her.
From the time that he delivered her to the dungeon, she had not once asked to leave. She had not begged or cried or screamed for help or even wailed in despair. These responses made Joseph want to show her that she wasn’t as strong and stoic as she thought she was, but he had to keep his feelings in check. He couldn’t afford to lose the ideal existence he had created for himself working for Andrew and living on his grounds. No woman was worth the price that this woman could cost him if he didn’t control his desires.
When he returned to the dungeon that evening after Andrew had left the woman, he found her sitting on the side of the bed, still handcuffed and blindfolded. He went about cleaning up from the day’s activities. He left her long enough to retrieve her evening meal and brought her laundered clothes back to her. He left a bag with new toiletries for her and a brush and comb. She never said a word to him, only sat turning her head from time to time as if she were following him with her ears.
This really was pissing him off. Where was her fear? He wanted her to be terrified. He was beginning to have a real need to hear her beg. He continued about his duties without speaking, and just before he finished his chores he stopped to admire the X rack that stood to the side of the room where Lisette was sitting on the bed. His mind conjured vivid images of her naked body strapped to the device in a spread-eagled manner. He imagined pulling one of the floggers from its place among all of the other instruments of sexual teasing; then, as his thoughts took him through whipping her with it until she had welts all over her body, his mouth began to fill with saliva, making him swallow hard.
He could imagine her screaming out in pain. He would require that she call him Master while he continued to whip her. He continued to stare at the rack, completely captivated by the images in his imaginary seduction. She would resist him at first, but he would command the whip upon her tender flesh until she eventually begged her Master to forgive her for being such an unforgivable bitch to him. She would confess that she had the attitude of some arrogant, stuck-up, high and mighty society woman who thought herself too good to be in the company of a man like him.
Before he could continue with those thoughts, he was jerked back to reality by her movement on the bed. He angrily turned from the rack and went to the bed, where he intended to remove the cuffs and blindfold, but an idea came to him and he gave himself a moment to gather his thoughts.
“You are such a pretty thing,” he stated in a non-threatening quiet voice.