I suck him as deep and fast as I can. His moans are quiet, subdued, but no less arousing. His eyes blaze with lust as he watches me. I know I’m supposed to be a good submissive and keep my gaze cast down at the floor, or at his delicious cock, but the best part of pleasuring Ares is watching those dark eyes glaze over with lust as his grip tightens in my hair.
All too soon though, he yanks my head back, and with barely contained aggression says, “Enough, Pet. While I’m never opposed to a show, some things are best left behind the privacy of closed doors.”
“You don’t want to come?”
He leans forward. “More than anything, but not in front of these sick bastards.”
“As you wish, Sir.”
I cast my gaze to the ground and kneel quietly, a little sulkily to be honest, as he shoves his cock back inside his pants and fastens the zip. He grabs my chin, and I meet his eyes. His are full of mirth. The son-of-a-bitch is laughing at me. “When we get back to the room, I’m going to fuck your pretty little face, and come down your throat so hard you’ll have no choice but to swallow every single drop.”
A frisson of excitement runs through me. “I look forward to it, Sir.”
Was that my voice? How can it be that in a matter of months I’ve gone from loathing this man to . . . to loving him? My fractured mind sometimes forgets that he’s the one who stole me, who wrenched me from my life and sculpted me into his desperate, needy slut.
“Of course you do, Pet. You’re my little cum-guzzling whore, and you love the peace it brings you having my cock in your mouth.”
I blink up at him in surprise. Peace. Is that really what I feel when I am with him? Is that the reason I haven’t run from him? We’re on a grand estate. Yes, it’s fenced in, but surely it wouldn’t be too hard to climb that fence, or sneak through a gap between the hedges. The problem is I don’t know if it would be, because I haven’t tried. When I woke last night, I should have fled. Instead, Ares had gotten me so worked up that I did the complete opposite. I stayed. I played. Tonight, I will not make that mistake. Tonight, I will escape.
I’ll wait until Ares is asleep, and the house is quiet, and I’ll steal away into the night like a common thief. Only this time, I’ll be stealing myself.
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper. Because he’s right. It is peace I find when he’s inside me. Imagine the peace I’ll have when I’m free, and he’s locked in a cage where he belongs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Pet
I startle awake, and blink up at the dark ceiling. Ares’ body is wrapped around mine, and his heavy breathing against my hair lets me know he’s still asleep. Little by little, I ease out of his embrace, careful not to wake him. I pad softly into the bathroom to pee. When I’m done, I splash my face with water and glance in the mirror. Moonlight casts its pale glow across my face from the window, a window I never even thought to try. Not that Ares has left me alone in this room for a second.
I move closer to it and inspect the window jamb. There isn’t one, proving it’s useless for escape . . . but the door isn’t. It isn’t locked with a fucking handprint sensor like the one in my cell. It’s armed with only a key card, and just like a hotel, we don’t need a key to get out. Our bedroom door opens just like any regular door.
I bite my lip and stare at my darkened reflection. Now or never. Run or be his captive forever. My stomach twists in knots as I open the bathroom door and stand in the jamb for a beat, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. The face of the man I love is turned away from me, but I know every line and crease. I know the prickly shadow of his stubble intimately, and I’m well aware that he’s just as gorgeous in sleep as he is awake. Maybe that’s the reason I haven’t tried to run away since we arrived. Because even though he stole me, ruined whatever life I had before, a part of me clings to him because he’s all I know. Him and his evil twin brother.
I tiptoe quietly to the door and try the handle. I’m met with no resistance. The door opens, and I freeze there on the threshold, staring at the empty hall. If I do this and I get caught, there will be punishment. But there’s punishment if I stay too—who knows how many years of it?
I creep through the door, turning to close it softly behind me. Even the quiet click is deafening in the silence. I hurriedly make my way down the stairs and take a sharp left, heading for the door to the outside patio we watched the races. It too gives way when I open it, the cold wind blasting my face. I guess Texas is not worried about his slaves escaping, though why would he be when they all sleep in the stable? I race across the patio and down the stairs, the icy path and the frosted grass biting into my feet. I run the length of the yard and then halt abruptly by the tall hedged fence. I don’t know what lies beyond. I don’t know where I am or who I am. I know only what Ares has made me. I know only him . . . and I know I can’t leave.
This is madness. I mentally chastise myself as I step back from the hedge. I’m certifiable. I have to be. Over and over I conjure images of what will happen to me if I run. If I set foot in the outside world will there be a media frenzy? Will Ares end up in jail? Will I be captured by one of the other Masters and forced to endure beatings from their crop, be forced to suck their cock? I know I won’t enjoy that. Anything they do to me really will be against my will. So what makes him different? What makes my Sir so special that I’d consider giving up my one chance at freedom?
The only answer I have is that I love him. I love pleasing him, and because he’s all I’ve known since waking in captivity, I don’t want to leave.
With a racing heart, I hurry back to the house. I’m careless as I open the door and dash inside. My blood whooshes in my ears. My head screams for me to get out when my body longs to return to the only respite I know—his arms.
I turn the corner and slam into a hard chest. His fingers sink into the flesh of my upper arm as he draws me close. The gasp that escapes my lungs isn’t from sheer terror, but excitement.
“Going somewhere, Pet?”
“I . . . ah . . .” Fuck. Think. “Th-the kitchen. I needed a drink.”
“The kitchen?” His cool tone tells me he doesn’t believe a word I just said. Ares takes a step forward into the light where I see he’s holding a glass of water.
“I . . . I got lost.”
“Pets often do when they leave their Master’s care. That’s why I cautioned you to stay close.”
“Yes, Sir. I was just thirsty.”
“And what have I told you about your needs, Pet?”
“That it’s your job to know what I need, when I need it.”
“Good. Drink up.” He hands me the water, and I swallow it in several long gulps. He takes the glass when I’m done and sets it on a nearby table. Then his arm flashes out and he grabs the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I feel my pulse beating out a broken rhythm against his palm. I know he feels it, because he steps back and studies me.
“Your heart is racing.”
“You frightened me.”
The flash of white teeth in the moonlight sends a shiver down my spine. “Did I now?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He runs the tip of his nose along the line of my chilly, naked neck. “And are you still frightened?”
“Yes.” No sense in hiding it; he can read me like a book. One he’s studied time and again.
“Fear is good, Pet. It lets you know you’re alive.”
The terror in the pit of my stomach is a testament to his words. “Yes, Sir.”
He places his hands on my shoulders and turns us so that I’m facing the stairs. “Now, get that hot little ass upstairs so I can beat it some more for leaving the room without my consent.” He leans in, his breath brushing the shell of my ear. “And, Pet, if you try to run from me again, I’ll kill you.”
My heart stops.
He knows. He saw me. But I didn’t run. Surely the fact that I didn’t run away will earn me some favor?
The hard look in his eyes when I turn and meet his gaze tells me otherwise.
I’ll kill you.
I believe him, too. The aching in my chest spreads to my gut like venom from a bite. I’ll kill you.
If I had any disillusions about how deep Ares’ affection is for me, they’ve all been shattered right here. Ares doesn’t love me. My captor isn’t falling for me, and he is never going to let me escape. Like an idiot, I stood on the precipice of freedom. I stepped back from the ledge for him, and now I may never get another chance again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Pet
The following day passes in a heady mix of races, too much sun, and the sweet scents of sex and expensive whiskey. I kneel at Ares’ feet, my head resting on his knee as I watch latex-clad humans play at being horses, running around a track with bridles in their mouths and real horsehair tails. It’s as disturbing as it is arousing, but I have no desire to join the pony club, and I’m relieved when the races are over and the winner gets to fuck their choice of the losing ponies. I try to look away, but Ares squeezes the nape of my neck and forces me to watch.
“Shall I lead you into the pen, Pet, and you can be their brood mare?”
“No, Sir. Please no.”
“Or maybe you’d like me to take you upstairs now and fuck you?” he whispers in my ear, his hand sliding around my front to tug on the clamps he’s attached to my breasts and clit again.
“Whatever Sir wishes.”
“Whatever I wish?”
“Of course.”
“And if I wish to see you fucked by that winning stallion over there?”
I don’t have to look to know whom he’s referring too. Israel is currently buried balls’ deep in a male slave, but his eyes bore into mine.
“You’re in love with him,” I accuse, feeling the sharp sting of betrayal and jealousy prick my eyes.
Ares laughs. “He’s a slave, Pet. Nothing more.”
Nothing more. Of course he doesn’t love Israel; he’s incapable of loving anyone, much less a slave. The tears I’ve been choking back spill, and a harsh sob escapes me. Several of the Masters turn their heads in our direction.
“Get up.”
“Sir, no. Please no.” I clutch at his leg, but he shakes me off. “Crawl, little one, into the house. Make a left at the living room. I want to see that ass crawl away from me. Maybe then you’ll think twice before opening that filthy little whore mouth.”
On shaking limbs, I do as he asks. My knees protest against the polished wood deck and then the marble floor inside. I’m shaking, I’m terrified, but I do as I’m instructed. Ares’ shoes tap on the floor behind me. The sound of terror and expensive leather send a chill down my spine.
The clamps he fitted to my clit and nipples a short time ago tug painfully with every movement. My small breasts swing, pulling on the chains that connect the three alligator clamps. It hurts, but in that good way that makes my whole body melty. I try to increase the sensation, drawing my thighs closer with every step.
“Spread your legs, little one.” Ares’ voice is cool and domineering behind me. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Despite my fear, despite crawling to what I’m certain will be a very long and very painful punishment, a smile plays on my lips. When I turn left past the living room I come to a set of marble stairs. I pause, because in my time in captivity, I’ve never had to navigate stairs whilst on my knees.
“Stand,” he barks the order, and I do as he commands. I stand with arms folded behind my back and my head held high.
“So fucking arrogant, even now. You’ve been debased in front of all those people, and you’re still behaving like a princess, as if you’re entitled.”
“No, Sir.”
“Shut up. Did I permit you to speak?”
I shake my head, and I’m swatted hard on the ass with the flat of his palm. It’s such a brutal blow, and such a surprise that I almost lose my footing, but Ares grabs my shoulder and pulls me back. My heart thunders against my ribcage like a frightened bird, desperate to get out. He runs his hand down my abdomen and grasps the clit clamp, tugging its little chain hard, too hard. It slips off. All of the blood in my body rushes to that one little bundle of nerves. My legs threaten to give way, my clit tingles, and my sex tightens. I cry out.
“I love it when you moan, my little whore. It’s painful, and yet so, so sweet, isn’t it? Having all the blood rush back in, sparking those already sensitive nerve endings?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper on a moan as he runs his tongue along the curve of my neck and takes my earlobe between his teeth, biting hard.
He fingers the clamp on my left nipple playing with the little crocodile clip, teasing, as always. He pulls one off and then the other, and my breasts ache as the blood rushes back in.
“Walk. Now.” His voice is thick with lust. It wraps around me like a shroud, warm and velvety.
Still, it’s not enough to sooth my aching flesh. “I don’t think I can, Sir.”
He chuckles in my ear. “You’ll be fine, Pet. One foot in front of the other.”
I take the first step, fully aware it’s a step closer toward my own torture. That’s all this is: torture. He won’t let it be anything else.
God, what the hell is wrong with me? He stole me, he abuses me, he does unspeakable things to me . . . and I love it all.
A bird may love its owner, but it will still fly free of its cage if given the choice. I had the choice, and like a fool, I didn’t take it.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, Ares pushes open a huge oak door and ushers me inside. The room is frightening. It looks more like a torture chamber out of the 1800s than a modern-day sex dungeon. There’s a St. Andrew's Cross in the middle of the room, not unlike the one in our room upstairs. A wrought-iron cage sits in the corner, a table to one side with gleaming black leather cuffs for the hands and feet, a sex swing, and several rings bolted into the support beam.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He presses his front against my back, eliminating the space between us. My heart races as I feel his erection through his suit pants.
I shiver. “Will you hurt me in here, Sir?”
“Of course.”
“Will you make me cry?”
“I usually do.”
I steel my jaw, because the way he talks about my pain, my torment, is just cruel. “Then what are you waiting for?”
“An audience,” he whispers, his tongue darting out to lick the space where my shoulder meets my neck. I close my eyes, bring my arm up behind his head, and slide my fingers into his hair as he devours my flesh. My body is electric, on fire, and buzzing with need. His words terrify me, and yet I’ve never been more turned on. “On the cross, little one.”
I drop to my knees and crawl without being told to. Ares makes an appreciative “mmm” sound as I make my way to the solid piece of furniture with an intentional sway to my hips.
“Cock tease,” he says, as he walks to the far wall. I grin and stand, my arms using the cross for support. “No, Pet. I want your cunt facing the room.”
“Y-yes, Sir.” I turn around, dreading the fact that his audience will be privy to everything, because when he’s touching me, I can hide nothing.
“Good girl.” Ares opens a drawer in a huge cabinet. He pulls out several bundles of black rope. My eyes light up. He chuckles, unraveling one of the coils. “My little rope bunny.”
He unfastens the clasps on my lingerie and I step out of it. He crouches down to help free my legs from the leather straps that have tangled up around my ankles. With the lingerie gone, he spreads my legs, leans forward, and licks my pussy. A moan escapes me, and I flinch when he grabs my ankle and places it over his shoulder, sliding his tongue deeper inside me, his mouth eating my pussy as if it were his favorite meal. I buck and writhe against his face.
When I open my eyes, Master Texas and Israel watch us from the doorway. This is his audience? Heat floods my cheeks. I squeeze my thighs together, but Ares pushes them apart again, and when I meet Israel’s gaze, the young ma
n’s eyes burn with ire.
Texas chuckles, his rotund belly bouncing with the movement. “If I’d known you were quite so famished, Master Muerte, I would have offered you more to eat.”
Ares stiffens and glares up at me before wiping my juices from his mouth and chin. “There’s always room for dessert.”
“Indeed,” Texas says, dragging a wing-backed chair from the corner of the room and setting it just a few feet in front of me. Ares straps my ankles into the cuffs at the base of the cross, then he goes to work, binding my breasts with a long length of cool black rope. As I watch him wrap, tie, yank, and tuck, I realize the silken rope is flecked with gold. Some kind of delicate wire. When my breasts are trussed and tied, Ares takes my arms and secures them in the cuffs attached to the top of the cross. I’m spread-eagled, bound, and entirely at his mercy in front of two complete strangers.
“Israel?” Ares glances at the slave kneeling by Texas’s feet. His jaw is set, but his tone is playful. As playful as my mean and unnecessarily cruel Sir gets.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Doesn’t Pet have the prettiest little pussy you’ve ever seen?” Ares walks back to the wall cabinet and chooses an oiled black flogger, striking the palm of his hand with the falls as if testing their weight, and the amount of pain he’ll be able to inflict.
Israel turns his cold, bright gaze on me. His eyes give my body a perfunctory once-over before landing back on his former Master. “Yes, Sir. She does.”
“Couldn’t you just eat her up?” Ares teases, his mouth curling in a lopsided grin. Israel stares blankly at him. My Dominant raises a brow, as if he’s losing patience. “Eat her, Israel.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “No.”
“Quiet, Pet, or I’ll give you to Master Texas to ride around his track.” He steps closer, and lashes me with his flogger, right over my pussy. I cry out, and glower at him, but I don’t dare say another word. “Would you like that, my little whore? To have a butt plug shoved up your ass and a bit in your mouth? Trotting around the racetrack with your little pony ears and a lovely shiny tail?”
In the Land of Gods and Monsters, Part One Page 14