A warbling cry escaped haphazardly from the girl's lips when her Master thrust roughly up into her hot opening. Her trembling hands flailed and caught the edge of the deep tub to steady her when he held his hips high. There was a grim look of satisfaction on his face when he began to release spurt after hot spurt into her. She felt his stick seed fill her quickly before backing up around his deeply buried cock to ooze lewdly from her, mingling with the soapy bathwater. Her eyes were squeezed shut and with every pulse of his cock her body would jerk. It was so hard for her to hold herself back. It was a torture and it was only the first of what she was sure would be many. The realization brought her to the verge of tears. It was particularly cruel that he could twist something she was growing to enjoy here into a punishment all its own.<br/><br/>The cry moments before paled in comparison to the shriek of shock and fear that flew from her as he shoved his face back to her heaving breasts only to keep going and upending her into the water. Her heavy shaft jostled inside her as he surged after her, even popping free to release a deluge of pent up seed. Even as her pretty face dipped below the water and the fear he might just drown her took hold she still felt dirty at the sensation of his leavings pouring from her. Hands clung desperately to his strong arms and she craned her neck to keep her mouth and nose above the water, bent back as she was. Zoey's eyes still had not opened and she choked back a cough from the water she had inhaled. His presence was easily felt over her and she did not wish to provoke him by coughing in his face.<br/><br/>Then he simply shifted back and she scrabbled up into a sitting position. Once she could turn her head away she did cough and hurriedly wipe away the hair that was plastered wetly to her face.<span style="color: indigo">"Y-yes Master." </span>She whimpered. With little delay she began to scrub her skin. Her vigour allowed for little gentleness and soon her skin was a faint pink. The only exception was when she cleaned herself out. There she was very gentle, not wishing to ruin the fragile composure that she was managing. Still it was an intensely embarrassing thing to do, made doubly so by the feel of his eyes on her. The little slave was mindful not to dawdle though and hurriedly moved to lather her breasts and use them to watch him. Her hands were held behind her back and she made very sure to remember his every instruction. It was awkward, as always, but soon he was clean.<span style="color: indigo">"Sh-shall I go fetch your breakfast Master Quentin?"</span>Somehow she felt even more anxious than usual. Perhaps the lack of release was already fraying the edges of her sanity.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>