by Bailey, Fawn
"Princess," he went on, shaking his head in disapproval, but his finger never left his lips. "You haven't been a very good daughter, have you?"
"I-" I started, but he cut me off right away.
"You've shacked up with the enemy," he said while he silently ripped the microphone off me. I flinched at the pain of the duct tape tearing at my skin. "And you've given him everything, haven't you?"
I couldn't say a word. I just watched as he passed the mic to one of his men, and motioned for him to wait before destroying it.
He reached into his pocket and brought out a long iron rod.
"Do you know what this is?" he whispered in my ear, and I shook my head. "Well, you're about to find out, princess. Don't make a fucking sound or I'll kill you and that little bitch you call your man. And then your sister. Who, unfortunately, couldn't be with us today. And if you don't listen to me, you're never going to fucking see her again. Got it?"
I nodded, too afraid to meet his eyes. Shivers went down my spine as he pressed the iron to my skin. It felt like nothing, but in seconds, I felt heat emanating from the weapon, and when my father pushed it against my skin, I felt little barbs all over it, pricking my skin like a thousand needles.
I wanted to scream. I wanted nothing more than to scream my fucking head off. But my father kept his eyes focused on me, silently warning me not to make a single sound. And I was a good girl, so I swallowed my screams and stared back as he hurt me.
"You want Vlada back, don't you, princess?" he asked me.
"Y-Yes," I choked out as tears rolled down my eyes. "Please, papa, I want my s-sister back."
"Well, there are a few terms and conditions," papa chuckled good-naturedly, pressing the weapon deeper into my stomach. I let out a gasp from the horrific pain. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before, almost blinding in its intensity. "You're going to have to meet me again. No goons, nothing. I promise you there won't be anyone there but us. Just papa and his little girl. Okay?"
"Okay," I breathed, my eyes starting to roll back from the pain. But papa wouldn't let me fall. His hand gripped my wrist tighter, and he held me up as he hurt me.
"I'll let you know the time and place," he said. "And you'll meet me there, alone. You won't tell anyone."
"I won't," I shook my head.
"Good girl," he cooed over me, pushing the hot head of the weapon into my skin. I smelled my own flesh burning. I wanted to die. I felt bile building in my throat and retched over the grass, but papa put a hand over my mouth and shut me up until my dry heaving stopped.
Suddenly, he pulled back, and I collapsed to my knees with relief, my heart pounding. My father tossed the weapon to one of his goons and I stared at him, feeling utterly betrayed while the searing pain cut through my body like a blindingly hot knife.
"Why did you want to see me?" I asked him. "If you were just g-going to threaten m-me?"
"Because I knew you'd betray me," he barked at me. "You dumb little bitch."
He made to leave, but stopped on second thought and looked at me over his shoulder.
"You'll see your sister again, Ophelia," he said, and I heard a gentle note in his voice I wasn't used to.
"Where do you keep disappearing to?" I asked him, tears welling in my eyes as I stared at him.
"There's an old bunker down here," he told me. "One of my friends, Abbate, uses it for fights and keeping prisoners in it. He let me have it for a few weeks while I made amends with you, princess."
"Amends?" I laughed out loud bitterly. "I don't see this as making amends, papa. You've..."
"Only because I had to," he reminded me, cutting me off before I could say another word. He probably thought the microphone was still recording. He was playing mindgames with me again, convincing me it was my own fault that I'd gotten hurt time and time again, and I hated him for it.
Then, he clicked his fingers together, and one of his men cut the wires on the microphone. The connection must have cut out as papa turned to face me again, his face gentler this time.
He took my chin between his fingers, his nails digging into my skin.
"You've been a very bad daughter, princess," he reminded me. "But it's okay, because I can make fucking sure you never do anything like that again. You wouldn't like losing any fingers, would you?"
I shivered under his touch and he reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a wrench. I was shaking all over, but he didn't pay it any notice as he pulled my hand up gently, so it was between our faces.
"I wonder which one I should get rid of first..." he muttered. "Which one would you miss the least, princess?"
"Don't," I begged with tears in my eyes.
"Shh," he tried to calm me down, closing the wrench around my middle finger. "We don't have a lot of time left, princess. I'm sure your little man and his goons will be ready to jump me any second. You won't disobey again now, will you?"
I hesitated, and his grip on the wrench tightened, making me cry out in fear.
"Don't, papa! Please! Have mercy."
"I don't have mercy for you, Ophelia," he told me. "You are my daughter, and I treat you the way you fucking deserve. Now swear to me - the next time I call you, you will come to do as I say."
"I..." I started, but my throat dried up. Again, he tightened his grip. I felt the wrench cutting into my skin and I choked out the rest of the sentence. "I'll do what you want, papa, I promise."
"Excellent."
He gently pried the wrench open and took it off my finger, sliding it back into his pocket. He looked at me with a smile, as if nothing had happened at all, and I hated him for it.
"You've been much better than I expected," he told me, and I hated that my heart soared when he gave me a compliment even though he was a heartless monster. "I'll see you soon, my princess. Oh, and no use telling your little orphan about the bunker we've been staying in. We've all moved on... We'll be waiting somewhere else for you, pretty princess. See you soon."
He winked at me, leaving a lingering kiss against my cheeks before his men moved in and led him away in a hurry.
The second they were gone, I collapsed on the grass, my teeth chattering and my limbs shaking. What felt like moments later, I heard shouting and screams, and the field filled with Kain's people.
He was next to me in a flash, cradling me in his arms and gently telling me things would be okay. But I didn't believe it anymore. How could anything be okay again? My father had regained his cruel power over me again, and if I wanted to see my sister again, I needed to obey him.
"It's okay," I told Kain shakily. "I'm going to be fine."
"What happened to the connection?" he asked. "What happened, dolly?"
I could tell how pissed off he was, practically foaming at the mouth. Yet I still couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth, for my sister's safety's sake.
"He found the microphone," I admitted. "And he destroyed it."
"Fuck," Kain cursed aloud. "I can't believe that son of a bitch. Scour this place! Find him! Check that bunker he spoke about."
"He won't be there," I whispered, my bottom lip trembling. "He'll be long gone by the time you get there. He's too smart. And he still has my sister."
"We'll get her back," Kain told me gently. "We'll get her back, and things will go back to normal, dolly."
"No," I argued, pushing him back.
He took a step away from me, raising his hands in front of his body to show me he wasn't trying to hurt me. But I didn't care anymore. Hot tears were already burning my eyes, and I felt betrayed, broken. Not just by my father, but by Kain as well.
"You told me we'd have her by now," I accused him. "You said she'd be back with me already!"
The burning sear of my injury was cutting into me, and I clutched my belly, but Kain didn't seem to notice.
"I'm sorry, dolly," he managed. "We'll find her..."
"No," I barked through the pain. "You're useless, Kain. Fucking useless. I should be doing this without you."
He star
ed at me, his eyes hard and unforgiving.
"I'm sorry," he said firmly before getting a blanket from one of his men and passing it to me. "Here, get yourself warm and we'll get you back to the house. I'll leave you."
I wanted to cry out, to beg him not to leave, to help with my wound, but I was too ashamed, so I just looked away, letting misery and pain wash over me in waves.
It was hopeless.
Chapter 18
Kain
We returned to the house feeling deflated. I was angry with myself and upset that I'd let down Ophelia again, and all I wanted to do was slam my fist into the wall and curse out loud. But I knew it would only upset her more to see me so angry, so I swallowed down every last bit of rage and decided to spend the evening with my dolly.
But she didn't seem to want the same thing. The moment we got back to the house, she disappeared to the winter sunroom, without saying a word to me.
It upset me more than it should have, but I didn't want her to know it. I was worried whether she'd even show up for dinner, which we always had together, but at seven pm on the dot, there she was, sulkily taking her place at the table after muttering a hello. She didn't even raise her eyes to mine.
We got through the dinner without saying a word, but I kept glancing at my girl, trying to decipher her mood. She was picking at her food and seemed to have lost her appetite. Her hands kept going to her stomach, touching it, fiddling with her dress.
"Dolly, your thoughts aren't here with me," I finally said when I'd had enough. "You seem so far away today. What's going on with you? Why are you trying to close up?"
She wouldn't meet my eyes when she shrugged, and my hands formed fists on the table as I glared at her.
"Well, it just won't do," I growled at her. "I told you to use your words, dolly."
"I'm sorry, M-Master," she muttered, glancing at me. I was surprised by the effort it took her to say it, and I furrowed my brows as we finished up our meals.
"Are you coming to our room?" I asked her next. Another shrug followed. Now I'd had enough.
As she tried to make her way out of the room, my fingers wrapped properietorially around her hip and I pulled her against me. She shrieked when I did it, and I stared at her with surprise. She was being so dramatic. My touch couldn't have hurt her. I'd made sure to be gentle.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, and I made her look at me, my eyes thunderous.
"Why wouldn't I?" I growled at her. "I can touch my property, can't I, dolly?"
"N-No," she muttered, and I tightened my grip, making her howl out.
"What the fuck is going on here?" I growled at her.
She stubbornly refused to answer, but I'd had enough. I let her go and she breathed a sigh of relief, but her eyes filled with panic as I grabbed a steak knife off the table. She raised her arms in front of her face, but I paid it no mind, slicing through the front of her dress and sending buttons flying all over the room.
Her body was exposed to me, and my mouth gaped when I saw the wound on her navel. It looked like a burn, but it was prickled with dots of blood. Now, upon closer inspection, I could see the same specks of blood on the fabric of the dress, too.
"What in the holy hell is this?" I growled at Ophelia, but she wouldn't look at me. "Did that bastard do this? Did your father do this?"
"N-No," she managed, but her eyes connected with mine, begging me to understand.
And I understood alright.
"That man is fucking dead," I got out through gritted teeth. "As soon as we get your sister back I'm going to slice his throat. I can't wait to see the bastard bleed out."
I tried to touch her wound, but she retreated like a doe in headlights.
"Don't touch it," she hissed. "It hurts."
I noticed the tears welling in her eyes. Goddamn, I wanted her father dead. He was a fucking monster for what he'd done to her over the years.
"I'm getting a doctor," I told Ophelia. "This needs to be looked at."
"No!" She grabbed my arm and begged with her eyes. "I just want you. Don't tell anyone. He'll... he'll hurt me more if he knows I told you."
My lips tightened into a thin line, but I gave her a brusque nod before gently leading her to a chair and helping her sit. Her hands flailed uselessly, wanting to touch the sore spots but knowing contact would only make things worse.
"I'm getting a first aid kit. Wait right here."
She nodded and I got the kit as fast as I could. She stayed in the same spot, but the tears were dripping freely down her face when I rejoined her in the dining room.
I set to work with some antiseptic wipes first, cleaning the injured area. There wasn't much I could do except apply some soothing salve and clean out the wound. I imagined it had hurt like hell when she got it. How she managed not to mention it until then was fucking beyond me. My girl had a high tolerance for pain alright.
"It hurts," she sniffled, and I kissed the top of her head tenderly, hating myself for letting this happen to her. "Kain, it hurts so bad. Make it better, please."
I promised her I would and bandaged her belly so the wound wouldn't be exposed. She whimpered throughout the bandaging, and I hated that I was putting her in more pain. But at least it was cleaned out now.
"Dolly, what can I do to make it better?" I asked her, and her desperate eyes connected with mine. "I hate seeing you like this, Ophelia. Let me make it all better. Please."
"Make me forget," she whispered.
"How?"
"Fuck me."
I stared at her, barely able to believe what she was saying.
"You're in pain, dolly," I reminded her. "So much pain."
"I'll only forget about it if you make something else hurt," she muttered, and my cock jumped at her words, eager to be buried in her delicate sweetness. She raised her eyes to mine again, her gaze filled with sorrow and the need to forget about the pain. "Please, Master. Hurt me. I want it to hurt worse than the burn does."
I stared at her with my mind working quickly to try and make it better for her. Finally, I gave her a brusque nod and guided her to her feet.
"Come, let's go to the playroom," I told her gently. "I'll make it all better."
She followed me into the darkness of the room on the first floor, and I led her to the middle of the room. Her limbs shook as I strapped them into the ropes. I made her stand with her legs apart, and her arms above her head. I chained her in place securely, making sure the rope and chains weren't digging into her skin. Then, I turned the temperature in the room down so it would be soothing on her burn.
Once I was done, she was breathing heavily in her restraints, her eyes fearfully finding mine.
"Are you mad, Master?" she whispered.
"No, dolly," I reassured her. "I'm just trying to make things better for you. Okay?"
"Okay," she nodded weakly.
I picked a whip off the wall and approached her.
"Do you like this one?" I asked.
She nodded, and I set the whip aside. I got a pot of numbing cream and rubbed it all over her wound, mixing with the cooling salve I'd applied earlier.
"Do you still feel it?" I asked her once I was done, and she shook her head.
"Not really. Just a dull pain. Make me forget it, Kain. I don't want to know it's there."
I nodded and got behind her.
"Count for me, dolly," I told her.
I smacked the whip against her thighs, and she let out something between a yelp and a moan.
"One."
I cracked it again, her skin reddening under the bite of my weapon.
"Two."
She was dissolving already, coming apart at the seams. It was like I'd found the magic medicine. Her wound forgotten, she was now pliable and ready for me to do anything to her. She wanted to come, I could tell. Her body was already shaking, already desperate for me to give it so much more.
"You can come as much as you want, dolly," I whispered in her ear, grabbing two toys from the table behind her.
&
nbsp; "Thank you, Master," she whispered, sticking her ass out. "More, please."
I hit harder, making her count up to five. By that time she was a shaky mess, and I used more rope to attach a wand to her tight little pussy. I put it on the highest vibration and she whimpered when the toy got to work.
"Feels good, doesn't it, dolly?" I whispered in her ear.
"Yes, Master. So good."
"Ask for more."
"Please more, more, Master."
We went up to ten before I approached her again, this time getting a plug wet in her drenched pussy before pushing it in that tight little ass. She was barely standing upright at that point, yet still so desperate for more.
"Tell me when you've had enough, dolly," I told her. "I'm here to help, not to torture you. Not tonight."
"Yes, Master."
I went up to fiften.
Twenty.
Twenty-five.
She was shaking, orgasms racking through her body and making her shiver in the restraints I'd put her in.
"Don't stop!" she cried out. "Don't stop, Kain! I'm begging you..."
"You've had enough," I growled, undoing the chain around her wrists.
Her arms fell down uselessly and I massaged her wrists when she started to sob, everything coming down and crashing on her at once.
I held her tightly while I undid the rope around her ankles. Her body wouldn't obey anymore, and even when I told her to come with me she just sobbed. I gathered her in my arms and carried her into the en-suite bathroom. I chose the shower over the bath, and got in with her, clothes and all.
My dolly collapsed to the floor, and I held her close as I sprayed ice cold water over us. Sighs of relief flowed from her lips as I washed her burn, her thighs and her ass. I'd removed the wand, but I kept the plug inside her. She was still coming, still coming down from the intense play session we'd had, and I held her close through each and every one of the orgasms ripping through her fragile body.
Once she was cleaned up, I brought her out in my arms, gently drying her off with a fluffy towel and applying more cream and salve to her burn, and her now lightly bruised thighs. I'd gone easy on her, but it still seemed to work.