She stood there naked, shivering, with her hands shackled up to the bar hanging from above. There was a blindfold of black silk pulled over her eyes. Her ears were left open so that she could hear the commands of her master.
Zenith could feel the breath of the man standing before her on the hollow of her throat. He ran one finger down her throat where she was wearing the collar which he had gifted her tonight and then he drew it down softly coming down in the valley of her breasts.
A soft combination of moan and whimper escaped her throat.
The man shushed her like a child.
“You know that you are not supposed to make any noise unless I allow you to, don’t you know that Zenith?” asked the man, in a voice which had a quality like old whiskey. It was smooth and husky at the same time but still it could burn down.
“Yes Master,” answered Zenith softly as she was supposed to.
The choker was the sign of her progress as a submissive. It was the sign of his dominance on her, body, mind and soul. She had proved her worth and Orlando Rothschild was not a man who would waste time on worthless things.
“That’s like a good little girl…you are mine..never forget that Zenith…I own you,’ whispered Orlando in her ears as he rolled her nipples in between his fore-finger and thumb.