The touches are nice, the feeling of his hands on her and his mouth on hers and it feels so good when he does things, but the hottest thing is that he's making her feel this way. She can tell he's finding things that making her feel good, turning her on, making her wet and horny, and doing them to her, controlling her arousal, and that's what turns her on the most. Watching him take her and dominate her with his control, his insight and strength and power. He's so good at this, so much better than she is, and she loves watching him work, teasing her how he wants. She kisses him back, melting further, doing her best to wrap her limbs around him as he holds here there with his strength, hungrily showing him just what he's doing to her. She's his.

Yeah. That's good. That's very good.

All right.

He lifts her away from the wall, shifting his grip on her to wrap his arms around her and carry her farther into the apartment. As he walks, he kisses her neck and digs his fingers into her hip and keeps listening to the feedback from her mind and body every time he touches her.

Then he reaches the bed, sets her down in it, climbs in on top of her, and starts taking off her clothes. He's still kissing her, on her neck and her lips and her shoulders, and down to her breasts once he's got her clothes out of the way, and every time he touches her with his hands or his mouth he's paying attention to how it feels, how it's going to feel, single-mindedly focused on her arousal and pleasure.

Well, it feels fucking electric is how it feels. The fingers in her hip feel so incredible, so dominating, as he carries her, moves her where he wants her, and she tilts her head back and moans softly, moving her hands to run over his body, reaching under his shirt to feel his body at her touch. He's so fucking strong, and powerful, and he puts her down on the bed and she splays herself out prettily because she wants him to take her.

Not that it matters what she wants (so fucking hot), of course, because instead of taking her, he keeps touching her. Kissing her. Teasing her and toying with her and making her weak and wet and horny and she wants to give him the pleasure he deserves for being so powerful and strong but he's on top of her. She arches her back and presses her body into his, moaning with pleasure as he kisses her breasts, stripping her of her clothing, gasping in need and delight as plays with her, plays her. She moans and shudders and presses her body into his, rubbing herself on him, electric and wet and needy, and when that's not enough she reaches down with her arm to touch herself, to feel the pleasure he's making her feel.

Oh, is he going to let her do that? He thinks... not.

He grabs her wrist, pulls her hand away from her crotch, pins it to the bed. And then he keeps touching her, teasing her—he remembers the first time he did this, and he's learned more since then, he's gotten better—anticipating her movements so he can pin her down before she squirms out of place, escalating slowly from simple touches and kisses to holding her down and fucking her with his fingers, and never ever letting her come no matter how close she gets.

He's gotten better at this, yeah, learned more about how to listen to someone's body with his power and how to put those insights into practice with his hands, but he's still a little surprised at how long he can play her without slipping up and letting her go over the edge. It's... a while. He'd been planning to cheat, if it came up, but maybe he won't even have to.

Valerie bucks her hips at him when he grabs her wrist. It feels so fucking good when he controls her like this, dominates her, takes what he wants. She makes no move to struggle against his grip, it's up to him where her hand should be, pinned like this, but she can tell that even if she did it would do her no good. His grip is so strong, so firm, so powerful. No good at all. She moans. There's nothing she could do to escape, nothing at all, she's fucking his and there's nothing she can do about it and it's so fucking hot.

Valerie writhes and presses her body against him as he teases her, making her horny and ready and needy and aching for his touch, for his cock, for more of his dominance, rubbing herself against him as she gets wetter and wetter, pressing her cunt and tits into him letting him feel her desire, trying to get herself off any way she can, knowing full well how futile it is and trying anyways, moaning and gasping with despair and appreciation and approval and shuddering wet ache and despair every time he stops her, every time he pulls away or stops her from moving or controls her and her body and her arousal and her pleasure how he wants.

By the time he starts driving his fingers into her cunt, pulling away and moving wrong and holding her down whenever she tries to trick him or thrust at him or whenever she gets close, she's a hot struggling mess of need and despair and ache, and loves it. And it's then that she finally finds her voice again. "Please, sir," she breathes at him, trying to bat her eyes but not really able to concentrate enough and it wouldn't work on him anyways, he's just so powerful, "please, I want it so bad, please fuck me, please let me cum, sir. I'm yours, sir, yours, yours yours yoursyoursyoursnoo, please, please, please sir, fuck, I need it so fucking bad, sir."

"Mmmm. Damn right you're mine."

He keeps her going a while longer. It's fun and she's hot and he likes how much she wants him, how much she loves being in his power.

Then he slows down a little—presses a soft kiss to her forehead—brings her to the edge again, again, again—

And when he finally starts to fuck her, he lets her come. And closes his eyes to hide the glow, and holds her there, with magic, while he keeps fucking her, so that the whole time his cock is inside her she's locked at the peak of a screaming orgasm.

It doesn't take him long to finish, like that.

Afterward, as the magic releases her, he collects her into his arms and kisses her forehead again.

She shakes when he tells her that, calls her his, reminds her, shows her just how owned she is and how much he fucking controls her. She shakes and reaches up for his finger and whines with desperate reedy gasps when he slows, begging him for the orgasm that he keeps moving just out of reach. And it's so fucking good that he can to that to her. Fuck. She wants him inside her, she wants to cum, she wants him to show her just how much he dominates her and keep her from cumming, she doesn't know what she wants but she doesn't have a choice he's just going to do to her what he wants and there's nothing she can fucking do about it and that's so good too, she presses into his fingers again and shudders as he picks up the pace and reaches and begs passionately for her orgasm and sobs and moans and pleads when he takes it away.

Each edge makes her beg harder, making her needier, aching, wet, desperate, the very fact of what he's doing making her hornier and hornier, screaming with pleasure and desire as she's denied, bringing her to more and more closer to the edge with each repetition. And she's screaming and then he's inside her and it feels so fucking good and he's not stopping her and she presses herself into him and she cums and it feels so wonderful, screaming and release and delight and this is what he wants, and then he keeps fucking her, using her, taking her and it doesn't stop, it doesn't fucking stop, she just keeps cumming and cumming and cumming, waves of pleasure and ecstasy bouncing through her body, overwhelming her, filling her, taking her, unceasing, unending, and it feels so good and it's too much, so very too much, but that doesn't matter. She screams, orgasming and cumming and cumming and orgasming, locked at the heights of pleasure higher than she thought possible, barely even noticing when he cums inside her, using her, using his property and his dominating and controlling her and fucking her and taking whatever he wants from her, and it feels good to be so controlled, so taken, so owned, so everything. So good but so much.

It's with regret and relief that she finally feels it subside, and she lets herself be held, shuddering and overwhelmed, feeling owned and incredible and loving it and wanting and needing to rest but ready to do whatever he asks if he does, pressing herself into his arms and letting him hold her closer, breathing slowly to try and catch her breath. Fuck. Fuck. He's so amazing. He's so strong. So powerful. He can do impossible, incredible things to her. She deserves to be his. Everyone deserves to be his. He's the best. Best. And his arms and his hold feel so nice and welcoming, she doesn't even question what this feeling is but plunges into it and lets it wash over her as she shakes, letting it help her tension and body relax.

He holds her and pets her gently while she catches her breath.

"You're mine," he murmurs. "You'll always be mine. First girl I ever owned. I am never, ever, ever letting you go."

Valerie is spent, but the words still make her press herself into him, joyous and happy and a little bit turned on. The statement of permanent ownership and control forever makes her feel so good. (There was never any doubt, of course, Valerie is the best, and he deserves the best, but the words still feel so very good to hear.) She's so glad to belong to him like that, forever. Of course, Sean might just be lying to her about this -- or might change his mind later, that's exactly the sort of things Valerie has done in this position when she had someone she wanted to string along for a while. Still, it feels good, and there's no good reason not to take him at his word -- he will do with her as he pleases, and there's nothing she can ever do about that. She's too spent to be turned on by the thought, but it still feels warm and hot and sexy and fuzzy. "Th-thank you, sir," she says, barely able to speak through gasping. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Still, 'First girl I ever owned' (which is something special, she admits, she feels so honored to be prized so) isn't the same as 'First Girl'. And there is an implication of others (which is weakly arousing in its own right, of course, Sean deserves whatever he can take, it's not for the likes of her to keep him from what he wants), which she hasn't met and hasn't seen him dominate. It isn't her place to ask questions and she feels so good and Sean treats her so fucking well but she still opens her mouth, slightly gasping, to ask anyways, in a small voice, "Are... are there others, sir? Are there going to be?" She wants to know more, she wants to help, she wants to watch, and touch herself or give him pleasure as he dominates and controls, but she already feels like she's overstepped asking those questions and asking for that seems like it can wait. So she waits.

"I'm definitely planning on it. Don't know how soon it'll be." He pets her some more. "Not everybody is as ready to submit to my power as you. I have to be careful who I try to take, and when, and how."

Valerie supposes other people might have a problem with what he does, and how. His methods do seem to be a lot more overt than hers. And it does seem like he was insightful enough to know he could take her, and strong and sure enough to know that he could. And then he did. But it seems such a waste to have this strength, to deserve the submission and control of others, and have to be cautious about it. He should be able to simply take what he wants without worry or care, and make them submit.

And Valerie, she supposes, with a widening grin, can likely help with that. It would be so easy to bring him girls, or make those he had his eye on quiver and submit to her, prime them and make them ready, before bringing them before their rightful controller (and still subservient to her, of course. Unless Sean wishes otherwise, but she's sure she can properly explain why having her as second only to him is hot and best). And that way he can get what he deserves, and Valerie can watch him break the weak little toys and enjoy every second of it. Maybe she should have brought Sandra back with her.

She grins at him softly, and says, "I can help with that, sir, if you wish, I could bring you pretty girls all flustered and ready to do whatever I ask, and let you take them. Only if you wish, of course, sir," (she really is spent, normally thinking about this would turn her on so much more and fill her voice with more of a seductive lilt, but it's still such a delightful thought,) "but I'm sure you would enjoy it." And so would she, oh, she very much would.

"Hmmmm."

He snuggles her, thoughtfully. There's definitely some appeal to the idea, except for the part where Valerie expects he can rape people into loving him, when, in fact, the opposite is true.

But...

"You know what? If you can do it without lying about me—if you can bring me a girl who knows who I am and what I want, and wants me to take her—then yeah, go for it." He hugs her a little closer and presses a quick kiss to her lips. "A little challenge for you."

Valerie pouts a little at the restriction, of course they'll want him to take her, that's the whole point of priming them, there's no need to be all moral about it. But he does seem to worry and care about these things, and they do seem important to him. And it seems to work for him, for some reason, however shortsighted and restrictive it seems. And it certainly is something she could do, if she found the right someone. Maybe Sandy would do after all, she'd have to talk to her a little (and, maybe, do a little more than talking) to find out. "Alright, sir," she tells him, smiling at him, already plotting. "I'll be glad to find someone like that for you." Or several someones, even. She's sure there are plenty of girls out there who know the right way to respond to power. To submit to those better than them. Most of the people she talks to do it instinctively, submitting to her, anyways, she just needs to find someone who will admit to it, and wants it.

(Be all moral about it? Really? He hasn't even brought up the concept of preferring not to hurt people and yet she has still somehow managed to judge him for it. It's honestly hilarious, in a vaguely upsetting sort of way. But whatever.)

He smiles back at her, hugs her, kisses her forehead. "Good."

The forehead kisses feel really, nice, and his appreciation feels really good. She still doesn't understand what these feelings are, really, but they're good and he's holding her and she doesn't really want to cry this time, it's fine to be held like this feeling relaxed. Restful, even, especially after everything they just did (which was so very hot). She smiles back at him and lets herself rest in his arms, just like every night, happy and oddly content and filled with a bit of new purpose.

He holds her and pets her and... tries to think about how to make her feel properly cared for. About how to make her be properly cared for.

The touches feel nice, and while Valerie feels mostly content, Sean still seems to be apprehensive about this, he clearly wants to make her feel good and happy (which continues to be so very strange and sweet of him), and he clearly is unsettled about that. Valerie pouts a little, before letting her face relax once more. She isn't quite sure what to do about that, other than to try and be happier and content, though obviously that's not the sort of thing he's looking for. Annoyingly. Right now, while so very hot, being his like this isn't everything she wants -- but she expects once he's found more people to make his like her (which Valerie is going to get to help with, which will be such fun), and he sees the obvious merit of putting her in charge of his pretty toys (but not as pretty or hot or sexy or perfect as her, of course), well, she's sure she'll have a much better time then. But having the ability to bring him others will certainly be such fun, and make that go faster, to get to the right and proper world where Sean has plenty of girls doing what he wants like he deserves, and Valerie of course gets to control them herself when he's not using them. Or using her, which he'll want to do most of the time, of course, but Valerie knows he'll want some variety. Things don't have to be perfect now if that's what her future is going to look like. She's just not sure how to reassure Sean that he doesn't need to be apprehensive or worried about silly things like making sure she's content and happy now.

That's bizarrely insightful for someone with as shaky a grasp of other people's priorities as Valerie, but then, it's not like Sean is super subtle about his feelings. He snuggles her and runs his fingers through her hair and kisses her on the cheek. How the hell does he even begin to explain what he's actually feeling? Should he even try to explain what he's actually feeling?

...he can at least take a stab at it.

"Hey," he says, "I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately. I—you're mine and I have standards for how well I take care of my things." He pets her some more. "Let me know if you need something, all right? People don't come with 'check engine' lights."

The touches continue to feel very nice and good and relaxing. But what he's saying, well. She can see where he's coming from, she supposes, even if she would just buy another car if hers decided to break. Or get daddy to buy her one. But he did say to be careful with money; is that what being careful with money is like? She supposes if she'd taken her old car in when it was having trouble it wouldn't have broken down entirely, and she did miss it for a little while, even if the new one was obviously better. Still, he shouldn't need to worry about her. And even if he wants to, she's better, and can handle things on her own. Probably. Things had been kind of unfortunate and grumpy the past few days, though she feels a lot better now. And she supposes if he promises her that, maybe he won't be quite so worried about her like this, even if she couldn't understand why he'd want to be. "I understand, sir," she says, finally, after thinking it through. "I'll let you know if something like that comes up." She doesn't expect to use it much, but if it makes Sean, happy, well. She'd rather help him learn how to suppress those silly ideas and feelings, but that doesn't seem to be an option. For now, this will have to do.

He kisses her. "Good girl."

(He remembers how she reacted last time he used this phrase; it seems like an appropriate moment to use it again.)

Last time she wasn't quite as spent as she is now, wasn't lying in his arms being held and touched, and was very much quite and horny and needy and desperate to cum, none of which is how she currently feels.

Still, it elicits a very positive reaction -- Valerie is glad she's pleased him, and glad for the reminder that he controls her so utterly, and his praise like that still feels so very wonderful, making her feel happy and glowy inside for a moment. She should probably take her promise little more seriously than she intended to if her making it really makes him so happy with her.

She wriggles a little in his hold in response, letting the flush of happiness go through her, then smiles up at him softly. "Thank you, sir," she tells him. "I'm very glad to have pleased you so."

Oh good. That's exactly what he wanted.

That's... maybe enough, for now. If he makes sure to keep a closer eye on her.

He pulls a blanket over them and snuggles up under it with her and kisses her forehead one more time and lets himself fall asleep.

Valerie enjoys the way he holds her, feeling wonderful and relaxed and good, and more content than she's felt in a while, and lets herself drift off with him, idly thinking about which of her friends would want to be taken by Sean, so she can bring them to him. It's a very pleasant thought to fall asleep to.

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

Lorenzo feels much better than he did a couple days ago. Fixing that stupid bitch's fuckup had taken a lot more hands on work than he would have liked, but all the evidence of what those idiot agents had been investigating was gone from the FBI computers, and he had a new slave to show for it. Not the prettiest of sluts, unfortunately, and he couldn't use Orchid to make her look hot enough to fuck without compromising her position as a mole, but she was still at least something positive to come out of that whole fuckup. And even with the disruption, none of the buyers had backed out, and all of the whores were changed to their specifications, and were ready to be taken home by their new owners tomorrow. He was going to make plenty of money on this one.

Still, the useless cunt had fucked up, and it was important to remind her of that, to make sure everything went off without a hitch tomorrow. She needed to remember who her Master was, and he wanted to make sure she felt sorry enough for how much work he put her through. She tended to work so much better after his visits, anyways. It was important to remind her who and what she was from time to time, and well, it fun to use and hurt the dumb bitch, besides. It was good to have a change of pace from happy bimbos, from time to time.

With his pet crawling behind him, Lorenzo opens the door in his office, and enters.

The stairs are the same as last time, with the same white candles, the same sconces, the same pale stone.

The room beyond... is different.

Ghostly blue-white light glitters from the polished surfaces of blue marble walls. In the center of the polished blue marble floor, there is a slab of darker, rougher stone, and on that slab there is a girl, naked, curled up much tighter and shivering much harder than usual. Her breath mists the air. The stone on which she rests is covered in a thin layer of frost.

The temperature where he's standing is reasonable, and the rest of the room looks that way too; it's only the central slab that's freezing cold. There are no chains holding her down. She could get up and go somewhere warmer at any moment; her survival instincts, if she has any left, must be screaming at her to do exactly that. But instead, she lies there and shivers.