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Chapter 39 by korook korook

What's next?

Call her out on the deception.

“I think you’re lying to me,” you tell Grace bluntly.

Her face is expressionless. “Do you,” she says.

“Yeah. I do. What was it you called yourself, the ‘Duchess of Domination’? No way you’d have let off a disobedient sub with just a kick to the balls or a couple minutes of facesitting. I think you’d have gotten much more...creative. Am I right?”

Grace opens her mouth to respond, but you interrupt her: “I order you to tell me the truth.”

She sighs. “Yes, you’re correct. I’ve employed those punishments against unruly slaves before, but they weren’t the extent of what I was willing to do. I thought that since I had disobeyed the spirit of your orders but not the letter, a lesser punishment might not be unwarranted.”

“You think that’s up to you?” you laugh. “Wow, you really still don’t get it, huh? You. Are. My. Bitch. I know you’re used to being on the opposite side of this equation, but you of all people should know that you don’t get to commute your fucking sentence.”

She’s giving you a weird look as you chastise her. It’s not fearful, more like...curiosity mixed with a tinge of respect.

“So, here’s the deal,” you say. “Not only have you disobeyed my orders, you’ve also lied to me to try to escape punishment. I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk straight, but honestly? I don’t think you deserve to take a cock this good right now.”

“That would seem to limit your options somewhat,” Grace says dryly.

“A little bit,” you admit. “But on the other hand...quantity will do just as well as quality, in a pinch.”

Then, without warning, you grab her arm and Irish Whip her into the ropes. No sooner has she hit them then you’re charging at her, extending your arm in a perfect clothesline that sends her tumbling over the top rope to land in a heap on the arena floor.

She comes to a stop right next to the ring barrier. The nearby crowd eyes her naked body lustfully. You see more than a few hands shoved down pants or up skirts as they watch.

Perfect.

“She’s all yours,” you say with a sly grin.

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