Theirs to Use: A Punishment Reverse Harem Romance(15)
“And that’s what I’ll send you home in,” Lydia announced brightly. They left the dressing room to find Mr. Green and Mr. Singleton waiting with a credit card.
“We’ll see you soon, Lydia,” said Mr. Green.
Karen, biting her lip, looked at the saleswoman and found a very uncertain expression in her green eyes. She swallowed down a sob as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say, if she could say anything. She had not the slightest idea.
But Mr. Singleton said, “Karen, do you have anything to say to Lydia? Would you like her to come see you in your new home?”
The sob did come then, and Lydia’s troubled eyes told of great conflict inside her, as well. The auburn-haired woman started, “That’s okay—”
But Karen interrupted. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I’d like to see you again.”
They escorted her back to the limousine, and now Karen had something else to contend with in this bizarre new world: she could not keep from seeing the way men’s heads turned at the sight of her walking by in the company of two older men. Mr. Green and Mr. Singleton each alternately put his hand on the small of her back as they walked, in that possessive way you saw in the movies. That hand, when it touched Karen, rested just above the bottom these men had caused to be paddled, then examined, then spanked and fondled, and finally dressed in lace for their use. It seemed to her that the other men who looked, from the suburban father clearly buying his wife an expensive gift to the superannuated pensioner in the company of his matron, must know what those hands, placed there, meant: these successful men owned the girl in the beautiful, ultra-expensive pink dress. Perhaps the other men couldn’t see the lace beneath, but Karen felt sure they knew that such men wouldn’t put their hands on the back of a girl who didn’t have on the sort of underwear a girl only wore when she would soon be fucked.
“You look lovely, Karen,” said Mr. Singleton as they settled back into the facing seats of the limo. “Let’s get you home.”
Chapter Eight
Singleton had to admire the way Green had set up Karen’s room in his penthouse. The laws regarding indentured rehabilitation required that a defaulter like Karen have a room of her own, of course, and the ten investors who had purchased her had no real objection to allowing their girl some personal space. Among other things, it would give them frequent opportunities to violate her privacy, because with the exception of the requirement of one day a week to herself—which Karen would spend locked in her room—the statute declared explicitly that the defaulter’s owner had the right to enter her living quarters for any reason and at any time.
With that freedom of access in mind, and a view toward using and disciplining their girl in her room—as well of course as elsewhere—on a nearly daily basis, Green had given her a comfortable space, appointed in shades of pink that Singleton couldn’t help thinking would match Karen’s cunt very nicely. She had a desk and a desk chair, with a high-powered laptop on it, and a queen-sized bed so that she could ‘entertain’ two men at once in relative ease, and three men if they were willing to crowd in a bit as they enjoyed themselves inside her—a much more pleasant sort of crowding, Singleton mused, since it involved a girl’s intimate charms.
She also had a spanking bench, upholstered in starkly contrasted black and fitted with leather straps to enforce her presence for discipline and sex if necessary. And, finally, she had a cage of a size suitable for large dogs and small fucking pieces.
When Karen saw the cage, she started backwards so violently that she came up against Singleton’s chest, her still unwashed hair in its ponytail brushing his face deliciously and the lovely pink dress with its enticing cutouts letting him catch a glimpse of her sweet breasts in the lace bra. He didn’t know why exactly the contrast of putting their defaulter in elegant clothes moved him so much, or especially why the thought of her bare cunt in the virginal white lace down below made him so hard, but Singleton didn’t think he had ever felt more anticipation about fucking a girl than he did as he considered the delights of his first turn with Karen Hunter.
“What’s that?” the girl whispered.
“Do you mean the cage, sweetheart?” Green asked. “That’s for when you’re naughty. Or, really, when we want you to feel like the piece of property you are.”
Singleton appreciated Green’s help with organizing the investors and drawing up the relevant financial and legal instruments: he himself, the chief executive of an aerospace firm, wouldn’t have been able to do it on his own by any means. He also appreciated, most of the time, Green’s frankly objectifying approach to owning a human sex toy like Karen—indeed he shared that perspective at his more aroused and ardent moments.
On the other hand, however, he found himself wishing from time to time that Green would soften matters just a little for their girl, would try to win her over a little rather than simply announcing her status as fully owned fucking piece. He wondered briefly, now, as he worked to get quickly over his irritation at what the financier had just said, if he would have had the same feelings if they had chosen Grace or Sylvia: something special seemed to draw him to Karen.
He knew himself to be utterly immune to falling in love, having had his heart so violently broken by a cheating wife two years previous and having proven to his satisfaction that he could paddle and fuck prison girls by the dozen without feeling a thing other than lust and dominance. Still, he did have a capacity for affection that he manifested to his German shepherds and had once shown his wife. To his surprise, he felt it awakening toward Karen, now. It didn’t make his need to punish and fuck her with great rigor any less, but he surprised himself a little with the way he seemed now to have an interest in how the girl felt about it.