Dark Needs (Tales of Dystopian Decadence Book 1)

by Finley Blake

  When I recovered my breath, I said, “Why don’t we explore those ways and see what’s most effective?”

  Chapter 7

  When we returned to Icharus’s home, we could not undress each other quickly enough. He pressed me against the wall in the downstairs hall and whispered, “I don’t care if we put on a show for the servants, as long as we do this tonight.”

  “Neither do I,” I agreed, “as long as you do whatever you want to me right now.” It was like a switch had been flipped. Something told me there was more to Icharus than met the eye, far more than there was to his father. Whatever it was, the pain his father had caused went far deeper and was more nefarious than I had first suspected. Icharus and I did not have to be enemies. We might not exactly be on the same side, but we could still work together against a common threat.

  His hands reached beneath my dress to pull it up and his fingers found my panties once more, like they had at the restaurant. Playing with and under my panties seemed to be a favorite activity for him.

  “Spread your legs,” he told me. I did as he commanded and he brushed the pads of his fingers up over my clitoris again and again, the silky fabric the only barrier between us. I moaned and arched into his touch. “You wanted to jump up and kill him then and there,” he said to me. “And while I admire your willingness to do the job, I can’t have a slave who isn’t in control of her emotions. We’re going to address that tonight. There will be no more shows of rage until we have a logical, tactical plan in place. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  “Call me ‘sir’, young lady.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good girl. We’re going upstairs.” He abruptly stopped teasing me, withdrawing his hands from beneath my dress. I let out a small squeak of disappointment as he took me by the wrist and led me up to the second floor. For once, I didn’t want to wait for him to hold me, touch me, and play with me. I wanted this to be a dance for two – to touch Icharus and show my desire for him. He hadn’t even shut the door to his room before he commanded, “Bend over the bed.”

  I did as he instructed and waited while he closed the door. There was a draft on my backside as he lifted my dress and then I felt his hand on my ass.

  “I’m going to spank you, which I’m sure you’re accustomed to from attending the school. However, that’s just the beginning of what I intend to do to you tonight.”

  My body tingled with excitement at the thought of him mastering me through this kind of discipline. It wasn’t something he’d done to me yet and I was curious to find out how he approached spankings. Even though I’d considered myself fairly immune to them after four years of being spanked by the school faculty, there was something about how Icharus loomed behind me, biding his time, that made me both fear and anticipate the punishment. After another moment passed – another moment of him standing beside me, simply looking at my exposed bottom – I felt the wetness seeping through the crotch of my panties.

  He let out a low chuckle as his hand rubbed wide, firm circles on my bottom, and then he smacked me twice on each buttock. Each slap was measured, hard, and stinging, and I cried out in surprise each time.

  “That wasn’t enough to hurt you or even redden your ass. I just wanted to give you a little warm up.” His hand dipped down between my legs and then he pulled my panties aside so roughly, I nearly lost my balance. When he ran his fingers along my soaking pussy, I couldn’t bite back the long moan that escaped my lips. “You liked that, though. Maybe they didn’t spank you hard enough at the school or reward you well enough for taking it hard. Trust me when I say, you will take it very hard tonight.”

  I felt him immerse his fingers in my wetness, three sliding inside of me effortlessly to fill me. The sound of my arousal as he thrust in and out of me was obvious, and I leaned forward just so I could lift my backside even higher for his use.

  “That’s a very good girl,” he said, “lifting your tail for your master like that. I have a special surprise for you tonight. Place your hands over your head and keep your wrists close together.”

  I bit back the groan of disappointment that welled up inside me when he removed his hand and stepped away, but I did as he said. Footsteps retreated from me and then there was rummaging around in what I guessed was the bedside table. In a matter of moments, he approached me again, his crotch pressed against my rear as he leaned over me. I liked that feeling – him coming up behind me when I could not see what he was doing, making me feel small and vulnerable in front of him.

  His body pressed down on mine as he bent over me and I heard the metallic sound of handcuffs jingling. When they snapped shut, I gasped at the sensation of the cold metal clamped around my wrists. I tugged experimentally and found that I could not move my arms at all. He had looped the cuffs around one of the narrow columns in his headboard, which kept me bent over the bed.

  “Now, spread your legs wider for me.”

  His favorite command. I took a deep breath and did as he ordered.

  “Pain is not what you need,” he said, “though it may help teach lessons. What you need is regular and thorough discipline through the thing you dislike the most: humiliation.”

  A shudder of eagerness ran through me as I waited to see what would happen next.

  “What makes you blush, my dangerous slave? Perhaps describing each and every thing I do to you will make you very uncomfortable.” I felt his fingers running up along my thighs, making their way to the one place I wanted them so badly at this very moment. “I know you feel me touching you and I’m sure what you really want is my cock buried deep in your pussy. You’re already soaking wet for me.”

  At that statement, he slid one finger inside me and I gasped at the intrusion. How I hoped he would add more, like earlier…

  “What I’d really like to do is put you in a truly public situation and see how you take it,” he said. “I want you kneeling before me, naked, and calling me ‘sir’ while others watch. Then I would make you suck my cock for their entertainment. Doesn’t that sound like a good idea?”

  It sounded like a decadent and thrilling idea.

  “Or perhaps suck someone else’s cock in front of me. Do you think you would like that?”

  Would I?

  I barely got the words “Yes sir” out when he gave me more sharp spanks with his free hand, alternating between each cheek. A brief moment passed and then it happened again, but this time I felt a strap snapping against me. The pain burned along my flesh and I let out a sob.

  “So you are susceptible to some punishment,” he said. I felt his fingers searching between my legs, parting my flesh, and then his tongue ran along my slit, sending shivers through my entire body. It was a strange sensation – the pleasure mixed with the hot, stinging pain of my ill-treated buttocks. “And then,” he said, his breath on my inner thighs, “I’ll show them just how very much you belong to me by doing whatever I want – perhaps grabbing you by the hair and bending you over to fuck you in front of them, while you continue to suck someone else off. What do you think of that?”

  “I…” My voice quavered as I lied. “I don’t like it, sir.”

  “You don’t like the idea? Well, all the more reason to do it.” His tongue delved into me again and I wriggled against his mouth, sighing. Every lap of his tongue against me felt better than the last as the scalding tingle along my rear receded. I felt my body trembling on the edge of orgasm at the thought of the proposed scenario.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  He pulled away from me and I heard him rise to his feet, then felt him press his erection against my bottom. “Please what?” he asked.

  “Please fuck me.” It was a whimper and I squeezed my eyes shut, as if I could deny how much I wanted him just by closing them.

  “Not just yet,” he murmured. As he slid his hard, heated length between my wet lips, swollen with arousal, his hands squeezed and fondled my buttocks. “Perhaps you like the idea of sharing you, but you refuse to ad
mit it. What would you think of straddling me, taking my cock inside you while others touch your body?”

  Oh my… I didn’t doubt for a moment that he would do such a thing if he thought it would further his personal plans, and my hips bucked back toward him in a silent plea for him to alleviate the ache I felt deep inside.

  “There’s my girl, so ready when I want her to be.” I felt movement at my arms, then freedom. Two hands held my waist and moved me up on the bed to straddle him as he lay beneath me, his stiff cock ready to penetrate my willing body.

  “Watch me when you fuck me, Adette,” he said.

  Doing as he commanded, I quickly averted my gaze from his face down to his naked, muscular body. The heat in his dark eyes was too much, so I focused on the way his stomach tensed with excitement.

  “Ride me,” he said, reaching up to push my tousled hair back from my face. “Fuck me like you really want me.”

  “I…”

  His other hand reached beneath my skirt and he fingered my clit, then pinched it, eliciting a sharp gasp from me. “What was that?” he asked. “Don’t you want to come? I know you do, but I’m not going to do it for you this time. If you want it – if you’re so in control of yourself – then come and get it.”

  As his hand moved away, I felt bereft of the warmth and sought contact once again. I lowered my hips over him, rubbing my vagina along his throbbing erection. With a gasp of pleasure, I sank down atop him, taking every inch until he was balls deep in me. When I thrust closer to him, my clitoris rubbed against his pelvis and I clamped my hands down on his shoulders.

  “That’s it, you want this,” he said in a soft, almost soothing voice. “Take it, my slave.”

  I moved once again, panting with delight every time my clit brushed against him, and his cock stroked along the inner walls of my dripping wet cunt. Before I knew it, I was riding him as hard and fast as I could, thrusting my hips back and forth against his until my whole body shook with ecstasy. His hands gripped my hips and he pumped his seed into me with a groan of “Adette…”

  As soon as my body stopped twitching with orgasm, I slumped atop him, my face buried against his neck. For a moment I just lay there, inhaling his scent, and sighed. It was the first time I could remember feeling warm and safe, like I was with someone who understood me and knew what I needed.

  I didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter 8

  When I awoke, it took a moment to remember where I was. My sleep had been so deep and blissful, my dreams so vivid, I thought maybe the night hadn’t actually ended.

  “Rise and shine.”

  I rolled over and looked at Icharus, who was perched on the edge of the bed. It was difficult to conceal my smile as I asked, “Did you seriously just say that?”

  “Well, I don’t know how serious I was, but…”

  I pushed myself up on my elbows to glare at him and said, “You know what I mean.”

  “I do,” he answered with a chuckle. “Do you want some breakfast?”

  I slid my gaze to a tray on the small round table across the room. It was then that I caught the tempting odors wafting from it. “Bacon?” I asked.

  “The headmistress told me it’s your favorite, and this is the first morning I’ve been here to share breakfast with you, so I wanted it to be special.” He rose from the bed and approached the table to lift the cover from the tray to reveal bacon, omelets, fried potatoes, and toast. “It’s a shame you’ve been in home every day by yourself and I haven’t spent a proper morning with you since our first night together.”

  “Even more shameful when you consider it’s been over two weeks,” I agreed, still smiling. Setting my feet on the floor, I pushed the covers aside and took a few tentative steps across the room. “This bacon looks perfect. And you have strawberries! How did you even get these?” Farms were strictly controlled under the Regime and produce distributed sparingly to the populace.

  “The DeVille fortune and name extend far.” He watched me gaze in wonder at the selection.

  “Ooh, and whipped cream.” Without any further reservations, I sat down and piled the various delicacies on to my plate. By the time I heaped another serving on the fine china, Icharus was only halfway through his first.

  “Slow down,” he said, pointing at me with his fork. “You’ve got the appetite of a baby elephant. You’re going to get a stomachache.”

  I stopped shoveling food into my mouth and set my fork down, then muttered, “My stomach is used to aching.”

  Icharus looked at me, one perfect brow arched. “They don’t feed you in that school?”

  “They do and the food is very…” I shrugged. “It’s elegant. But, before that, I didn’t have much of anything. Courtesans don’t really bring home money – just a lot of gifts, like jewelry. Of course, my mother sold most of it to pay for us to live.”

  “I thought being a courtesan was something some women aspired to, because of the glamorous lifestyle.”

  Tilting my head, I thought about his question. “It really depends on the situation. For some families with too many daughters, it seems like the only way to keep them well-placed in society. It’s not considered a shameful trade, like working in a shop or another blue-collar job. But it’s really up to the patron to decide how they will reward their courtesan. Most single men take her into their home. The married men do not.”

  “When the headmistress negotiated our contract, she had some fairly strict stipulations drawn up.” Icharus sipped at his juice and watched me.

  “I know and she normally negotiates very strongly for her girls. I’m not sure what happened to my mother – if the headmistress failed her or if it was another situation entirely. Either way, I think the fact that my mother had a child when she was matched may have lowered her overall value to potential patrons.”

  My heart plummeted and I looked down at my plate. The thought that our value was measured based on what a man would pay for us consumed me and the delicious food in my mouth now tasted like ashes.

  Icharus reached across the table and cupped his hand against my face. “Adette, I think you are worth far more than I could ever pay for you. Stay with me and we can change everything.”

  “No, you can’t change the past.” I blinked and a tear slid down my cheek, then along his palm. “You can’t change the fact that my mother and I lived in poverty, despite the fact that she was courtesan to one of the wealthiest men in the city.” I clutched the silverware in my hands and my knife scraped against the plate with a discordant screech.

  “No, that’s not…” He caressed the dampness from my cheek and eye, and continued, “What I mean is, we can keep that from happening to anyone else ever again, especially you.”

  I took a deep breath, my nostrils flaring. “Icharus, it is happening all over our country. While you go sit in some comfortable, temperature-controlled office and dine on the very best food, the rest of us fight to survive. We hope to avoid Regime notice by keeping our heads down, but at the same time we wonder why they have taken everything from us. I might be too young to know what happened when the Regime overthrew our country’s president, but my mother remembered. Even though no one spoke about the past, she told me what I needed to know.”

  More tears stung the corners of my eyes. How could I possibly make Icharus understand this cruel world where a woman’s only commodity was her body, and that was only if a man deemed it worth paying for?

  “And she taught you to hate the Regime and everyone associated with it, even before my father had her killed.” His low voice pulled me from my thoughts. “It’s no wonder you feel the way you do about me.”

  “Look at me,” I said in a firm voice. He raised his gaze to mine and I grimaced at the pain I saw there. “I don’t hold your father’s cruelty against you. He’s wronged many people and karma is a bitch. I only have one concern about your scheme. He is your father and I know how it feels to lose a parent. Can you still… Can you still look at me with any fondness if I do this – if I
take his life, even if you’re the one who masterminds the entire assassination?”

  Icharus clenched his hands into fists, then released them and pressed his palms flat against the table. “I lost my mother too,” he whispered. “Because of him.”

  Seeing the pain in his eyes, I drew back in horror. “I’m so sorry…”

  “Don’t be. You didn’t kill her. He did.”

  “You don’t have to talk about it.”

  “No, I want to.” Icharus pushed away from the table, rose to his feet, and crossed the room. “You lived in pain and poverty until the school took you in? I only had the pain, but my father’s wealth – and seeing his face every day, the face of the man who murdered my mother – made it so much worse. He wanted me to feel beholden to him. One day, he even told me I would thank him for doing it – for taking her out of the picture. She was too soft, he said. She would only make me feel, make me care, make me sympathetic to the people I was supposed to learn to hurt.”

  He gripped the windowsill and I saw his knuckles whiten.

  “The only problem,” he continued, “is he never realized that kind of feeling can’t be taught. It’s a normal human condition, to feel sympathy and empathy. You can’t kill compassion once it’s instilled and nurtured in us. He was too late to stop my mother from doing that. The shock of losing her didn’t change the fact that I already saw that my father was doing the wrong thing to hundreds of millions of people. That’s why I can do this and not even think about hating you, because I’m in your shoes, Adette. We both have nothing to lose, because we’ve both already lost the people who mattered most to us.”

  “That’s not true.” I watched him as he leaned on the window frame, his gaze fixed on some distant point I couldn’t see. “We might have both lost our mothers, but you have your life to lose if anyone connects you to his murder once it’s said and done. That’s why you’re using me in this. You’re not the one with nothing to lose; I am.”