haremfaery
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 10, 2009
- Posts
- 3,588
Katirah's tongue darted out to lick her lips as her breath hitched. Her fingers tightened and relaxed against the Comte's skin. How could she think with his cock teasing her thus?
She could be coy in her answer, but it would only make the Comte question her more closely. More likely it would make him angry. She did not wish to make him angry. That had never been her intent. She always tried to say and do what she thought the Comte wanted.
"If the Comte is referring to himself," Katirah paused and looked away from his face, "and the Comte wishes and me to be honest then my answer is sometimes." She steeled herself for a slap to the face that never came.
"Sometimes I think the Comte is a good master. Most times I am confused." Now she looked him in the face. "The Comte is gentle. The Comte is harsh. The Comte is passionate. The Comte is cold. I expect one reaction and get another. I think I am pleasing the Comte and find I am not." She shook her head. " I am punished for things I do not understand. I do not know what you want from me." Her hand went to her mouth and her eyes grew wide as she realized she had just addressed the Comte familiarly.
Now he would be angry again and she would be punished again. Her shoulders tensed as if she expected a blow. Although the Comte had never hit her. Why was that? She wondered. That was the usual method for dealing with slaves: a slap for something minor, a beating for a worse offense, and finally, whipping.
She could be coy in her answer, but it would only make the Comte question her more closely. More likely it would make him angry. She did not wish to make him angry. That had never been her intent. She always tried to say and do what she thought the Comte wanted.
"If the Comte is referring to himself," Katirah paused and looked away from his face, "and the Comte wishes and me to be honest then my answer is sometimes." She steeled herself for a slap to the face that never came.
"Sometimes I think the Comte is a good master. Most times I am confused." Now she looked him in the face. "The Comte is gentle. The Comte is harsh. The Comte is passionate. The Comte is cold. I expect one reaction and get another. I think I am pleasing the Comte and find I am not." She shook her head. " I am punished for things I do not understand. I do not know what you want from me." Her hand went to her mouth and her eyes grew wide as she realized she had just addressed the Comte familiarly.
Now he would be angry again and she would be punished again. Her shoulders tensed as if she expected a blow. Although the Comte had never hit her. Why was that? She wondered. That was the usual method for dealing with slaves: a slap for something minor, a beating for a worse offense, and finally, whipping.