Annoyed, I close my eyes again, this time purposefully focusing on the growing ache in my balls as I pump my fist up and down my dick, letting the hunger build. Even if she does hate me, so what? She probably should hate me, given everything I’ve done to her. I’ve never let such concerns stop me from doing what I wanted, and I’m not about to start now. Nora will get used to the trackers just as she got used to being mine, and if the compound security is ever breached, she’ll thank her lucky stars for my foresight.

Hearing the door open, I open my eyes and see her emerging from the bathroom. She still doesn’t look at me directly. Instead she keeps her eyes on the floor as she scurries to the bed and climbs under the covers, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Then she stares blankly at the ceiling, as if I don’t even exist.

She might as well have slapped my face with her indifference.

The lust inside me turns sharper, darker. I won’t stand for this kind of behavior, and she knows it. The urge to punish her is strong, nearly irresistible, and it’s only the knowledge that she’s already hurt that prevents me from tying her up and giving in to my sadistic inclinations.

Still, I’m not going to let her get away with this. Not tonight, not ever.

Throwing off my blanket, I sit up and command sharply, “Come here.”

She doesn’t move for a moment, but then her eyes lift to my face. There’s no fear in her gaze, no emotion of any kind, in fact. Her huge dark eyes are lifeless, like those of a beautiful doll.

The heaviness in my chest region grows. “Come here,” I repeat, the harshness of my tone masking the intensifying turmoil within me. “Now.”

She obeys, her conditioning finally kicking in. Pushing away her blanket, she comes to me on all fours, crawling across the bed with her back arched and her ass slightly raised. It’s exactly the way I like her to move in the bedroom, and my breathing quickens, my cock swelling to an almost painful thickness. I’ve trained her well; even distressed, my pet knows how to please me.

“Good girl,” I murmur, reaching for her as soon as she’s within my grasp. Sliding my left hand into her hair, I wrap my right arm around her waist and pull her into my lap, gathering her against me. Then I slant my mouth across hers, kissing her with a hunger that seems to emanate from the very core of my being.

She tastes like minty toothpaste and herself, her lips soft and receptive as I plunder the silky depths of her mouth. As the kiss goes on, her eyes close, and her hands come up to rest tentatively at my sides. I can feel her nipples pebbling against my chest, and the realization that she’s responding the same as always sends a wave of relief through me, alleviating much of my uncharacteristic unease.