by Julia Sykes
His feral snarl warned me to stillness. He stroked my clit again, and I softened beneath Him.
Slowly, He eased into me. His breath puffed in and out in hard hisses through his teeth. I was amazed to realize that He was restraining himself from slamming into me. Did He care about not hurting me? Or was this all about his control over himself?
A second later, I decided I didn’t care. He hit a barrier, and pain shot through my womb.
My hymen.
“Hold on, pet,” he ground out.
His hips thrust upward, destroying my virginity. I screamed as it tore.
He released his hold on my wrists to cup my face in both hands. His forehead rested on mine, and the flames of his eyes threatened to burn right through me to scorch my soul.
It’s his first time, too, I realized with a jolt.
Without thinking, I reached up to run my fingers through his hair. He leaned into my hand. It was the first time I had ever touched Him of my own volition.
“It’s okay, Master,” I heard myself reassuring him. “I’m okay.”
His groan was one of relief, and He began to move inside me once again. Now that both of his hands were free, He was able to play with my breasts while He toyed with my clit. He gave me the little flashes of pain that I was coming to love so much, and I softened to accommodate Him further.
The agony that I had felt at his initial penetration faded, and I found myself rocking my hips up to meet Him. My hands wrapped around his shoulders. When the head of his cock found that sweet spot inside me, my fingernails bit into his skin in an effort to hold Him to me. But He wouldn’t have pulled away even if I had been clawing at his eyes rather than his back.
He grasped both of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisted hard. The shock of pain slammed me into my orgasm. Just as my inner walls began contracting around Him, his ecstatic shout joined mine. His cock pumped within me, matching the fluttering of my core.
I felt more alive than I had since He had abducted me. For the first time in I didn’t know how long, I was connected to another human being. Maybe for the first time ever.
And He was human. A swell of emotion that I had never seen in Him blazed out of his eyes: a mixture of bliss and possessiveness. The lines of his face were ferocious, but He had never seemed more truly content.
I moaned as He pulled out of me, and a sudden sense of stark emptiness washed over me. Tears rolled down my face, but for once they weren’t born of pain or shame. The swell of emotion within me was just as strong as his. It was so overwhelming that it made me weep.
He shifted his body so that He was resting beside me. Wrapping his arms around me, He pulled me into his chest. Without a thought, I nestled into Him. My tears wet his t-shirt, but He didn’t seem to mind. I noticed that He smelled good, like salt and earth and something purely masculine that was unique to Him.
For once, the feel of his powerful muscles surrounding me didn’t fill me with fear. I felt protected, comforted, treasured. The way He stroked my hair wasn’t condescending or manipulative; it was a show of genuine affection.
Wasn’t it?
I shut off my busy brain before it could ruin this blissful moment between us. Somewhere deep inside Him, there was a shred of humanity, and it had taken lust to pull it out of Him. I had always thought lust to be a loathsome source of weakness, but I had been wrong.
Lust was cleansing. It brought me pure joy after my endless, dark misery, and it brought out the best in Him.
I breathed in his scent and released it on a happy little sigh. His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer.
Before either of us realized what was happening, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
His Journal
May 20, 1978
I held her because I had to. The act of caring is essential in maintaining control over her. She needs to crave my cock, to beg me for it. I’ll settle for nothing less.
She’s mine, and I intend to keep it that way. If she breaks, she won’t be her anymore. And I’m enjoying her far too much to allow that to happen. I don’t think I would like it if she broke completely. I would have to get rid of her, and I like the pleasure she gives me too much to give it up.
I can always get another toy when she breaks, but I don’t want that. I want her. My pretty, clever little pet.
As much as I enjoy her sharp mind, I’m sometimes annoyed by how perceptive she is. Yesterday, she managed to truly surprise me for the first time. When she asked me why I was doing this to her, I was disappointed. I thought her mind had finally shattered. Then she forced me to admit the truth, not only to her, but to myself.
I need to do this to her. When I abducted her, I was so fascinated with the sensation of wanting that I didn’t think much beyond it. I wanted her, so I took her.
But she’s right: I need to do this to her to keep the darkness from encroaching.
But I don’t need her. Any woman would do.
So long as she remains with me, my needs will be met. Now that I’ve had a taste of her cunt, I want more.
She thinks I need her? I need to hurt her. I’ll teach her to like it. She’ll last longer that way.
Chapter 7
Kathleen
Why do you need to control me?
I awoke to my usual darkness. I was back in my cuffs, and the blanket covered my nakedness. I would have preferred his warmth beside me. In the time we laid in each other’s embrace, we had been more than sadistic captor and desperate captive. We had been a man and a woman, tied together by the sweet bond of lust.
Lust is good. Why had I spent so many years fighting it?
Lust wasn’t a weapon; it wasn’t weakness. It was bliss, peace, communion. It was humanity at its most basic, the most primal form of goodness.
If that goodness hid within Him, there must be some reason it had been buried. I yearned to know more about Him, and I acknowledged that my desire wasn’t entirely born of my efforts to escape him. Learning more about Him had long been a stratagem for winning my freedom. Now, it was more than that.
Yes, I did hope He would release me from this cruel bondage if I could make Him realize how much He cared. And He did care. No matter what his lips said, I saw it in his eyes as He moved within me in the most intimate way possible.
If that capacity for caring lurked within him, there must be some reason why it was buried so deep. What happened to Him that left Him so broken?
What made my dark angel fall?
No. He’s not my angel. He’s my demon, even if he does give me pleasure and the illusion of tenderness.
I had another question. After our moment of exquisite shared passion, I didn’t fear Him as much as I had. I wasn’t as afraid to risk asking. A sick part of me even anticipated coupling with him again. He would come to realize that the sensation He felt each time He took me was an emotional connection.
He cares. I just have to make Him see it.
I sighed, settling into my darkness until He returned and made the world materialize again. When I heard his approach, my heart leapt and my brain whirred back to life. It was as though I entered some sort of stasis when He was absent; I was only alive when He was with me.
“Hello, pet.” I could hear the smile in his voice before He removed my blindfold.
His pleased grin was dazzling as ever. It had once elicited fear and anger, but now it only awoke a warm glow in my chest. That realization made me uncomfortable, but it did nothing to lessen the warmth.
It was more imperative than ever that I convince Him to let me go. My mind was fracturing, turning against me as my body had long ago. If I could help heal Him, He might not need me anymore. He would free me.
“Why do you need to control me?” I asked without preamble, not wanting to wait another second to discover his secrets.
His smile wavered, diminished by surprise. I had caught Him off guard. His forefinger hooked beneath my chin, tilting my head back so He could study my face. Heat flared in me with ju
st that one touch. He was the only real thing in my world, and I craved Him.
Dimly, I hated that.
His lips twisted into that cruelly beautiful smile of his, but I could detect a new warmth behind it. The pleasure there wasn’t simply for my anguish.
I wasn’t anguished. Not really. Not while He was touching me. I was enthralled.
And so was He.
“Eager for more already, pet?” He asked with soft satisfaction. “You’ll get more than my cock for that question.”
Fear fluttered to life in my belly, emanating through my disconcerting contentment. His lopsided smile became more pronounced.
He said nothing else; He simply let the vague knowledge of an impending consequence hang over me. I knew He would answer eventually, and when He did, there would be a price to pay. My fear grew as He went about our normal routine, removing my cuffs and holding me while He gave me food and water.
By the time He brought the melon to my lips, I was so tense that I flinched away from his hand. He handled me so tenderly, but the sadistic glint in his eyes let me know that He had something unpleasant planned for me.
“Not hungry?” He asked, removing the food before I could answer. Apprehension had risen up in my throat, blocking my vocal cords.
All that escaped my lips was a small squeak of surprise when He gripped my hips and flipped me over. He sat on the edge of the bed, and suddenly I was staring at the concrete floor, my waist bent over his knees. I squirmed in his lap, struggling to right myself. His large hand gripped my hip and his forearm pressed down on the length of my spine, firmly holding me in place.
I stopped fighting. I knew I was about to pay the price; I was about to get the answer I so desperately needed.
“I need to control you because it makes me feel alive.”
He uttered the profound words as though it was a simple statement. My heart swelled, and my joy bled through my fear.
Everything I had suspected about Him was true. He didn’t feel human emotions. Or at least, He hadn’t. I had changed that. I was of vital importance to Him.
He was the only real thing in my world, but He couldn’t be alive without me.
“I’m going to hurt you now, pet,” He told me in that same even tone. “I need to hurt you.”
Again, I understood so much more than what his words directly expressed.
He’s broken. He can’t feel anything without controlling me, and now He knows that I know that. I have too much power now. He needs to hurt me to feel like He’s still in complete control.
His hand came down on my ass with a resounding smack.
“Quiet,” he reprimanded.
“I-I didn’t say anything, Master,” I protested, the fresh tears in my eyes matching the burn of his hand on my bottom.
“I could hear you thinking.” The words were disapproving, but his tone was one of fondness. “You don’t have to think when you’re with me. Pets don’t think for themselves.” His hand came down on me again, and I cried out. “Take what your Master gives you, and don’t question Him.” His voice turned low and feverish on the last.
I craned my neck to look up at Him. His pupils were dilated with lust, his lips parted with desire. His stunning features were illuminated by the rush of pleasure elicited by his hand upon me.
His fingers tangled in my hair, fisting it and tugging my head back.
“Eyes forward,” he commanded.
I had asked my question, and He had answered. I owed Him this pain because of the terms of our agreement. But there was more than that: I wanted to give Him my pain. I wanted Him to know that it was okay to need me.
I needed him to realize that He cared. Then He would let me go.
“Take what your Master gives you and don’t question Him.”
It wasn’t as difficult as it should have been to relax across his knees, submitting my body for his punishment, for his release.
He began to exact the cost I owed Him from my flesh, his hand coming down on me again and again. At first, He dispersed the blows carefully, enflaming every inch of my bottom and thighs. Then the hits began to overlap, driving the sting deeper, turning it to a relentless throb below the surface of my skin.
The pain hit a pinnacle, a place where I didn’t think I could take any more. I begged Him to stop. But He didn’t. He showed me that He had all the power, and there was nothing I could do to stop Him.
Realizing the utter insignificance of my words, my wants, I sank into acceptance. I stopped fighting the pain. I allowed it to flow through me, to claim all of me. My body and mind were beholden to the pain, beholden to Him.
“That’s it, pet.” He pressed his hand into my flesh, holding the heat there. “Accept it.”
His palpable pleasure morphed the pain into something… different. Every blow hurt, but the stinging barbs turned to little tingles that raced up my spine to flood my mind.
I gasped as the high hit me. It was almost more intoxicating than the pleasure that had rushed through me when I was impaled on his cock. I was connected to Him, but this was a different kind of intimacy, one found through pain and acceptance, through control and submission. He had dominated my body when He took me, but I had met his thrusts eagerly, joining with Him in achieving our mutual pleasure. This was a complete power exchange, and I gave Him everything as I gloried in the rush of total release.
I didn’t have to worry about my sanity or resisting lust or escaping Him. I didn’t have to worry about anything. It wasn’t trust so much as it was a complete acceptance of his control.
My consciousness retreated, leaving me floating in his power. I reveled in it.
I barely registered when the bliss-inducing blows stopped. The heat of his hand retreated, but the heat of his punishment remained simmering deep within me.
His low, lustful growl tugged me back to reality, to Him. He was my reality. My eyes fluttered open, and I drank Him in.
He flipped me onto my back, and my legs dangled over the edge of the mattress. His clothes were gone, and I could cherish every inch of him for the first time. The defined muscles I had once feared were now the most breathtaking thing I had ever seen. In that moment, I couldn’t recall having seen anything at all before He came and released me from my darkness.
Every line of his body was sculpted, as sharply defined as his cheekbones. The planes of his chest gave way to rippling abs. The V of his hips was an arrow leading to the cock that had given me so much pleasure. My mouth watered at the sight of it.
His jaw appeared even stronger than usual as He bared his teeth in a possessive snarl.
I would sacrifice myself to this God a thousand times over and never regret it. The savage intensity of the inferno in his eyes was an acceptance of my offering.
He grasped my ankles and pulled my body against his. My wetness already coated my thighs, and He entered me in one thrust. My back arched on a shocked cry at the sudden impalement. His heat branded me, marking me as his own.
My legs rested against his shoulders, and He leaned forward to grip my hips. My hands closed around his, ensuring that He kept me in his hold. His fingers curled around me, but his harsh hold was somehow sweet.
He cares.
I wept with joy as He moved within me, pinning my body in place for his use. When his head dropped back with the beginnings of his own orgasm, He pinched my clit. The shock of pain made me clench around Him. He shouted out his release as my own rolled through me.
He collapsed atop me. My legs fell to either side of Him, and He remained seated deep within me, both of our bodies trembling with the little resounding jolts of our pleasure. The weight of Him upon me and the ache of bruises where my bottom pressed into the mattress enfolded me. He was all around me, and I breathed in his earthy scent with rapture.
His nose traced the line of my jaw, as though He was reveling in me as well. Then, for the first time, his lips brushed against me. The soft kiss was feather-light against my neck, but the answering ecstasy hit me with the force
of a truck.
He cares.
His Journal
May 21, 1978
She asked me why I need to control her. I told her the truth. She makes me feel alive.
I don’t know if I can allow us to carry on this way any longer. I’m addicted to the pleasure she gives me. She has that power over me, and she knows it. I gave her pain to reclaim my control, but is it really control when she wants it, too?
And damn it if the sight of her ecstasy under my harsh discipline didn’t make me harder for her than ever before. I had thought I wanted her screams, her tears. I’ve gotten them, but not in the way I had expected. She screams in pleasure and weeps in joy.
And that makes me… happy.
I don’t know what to do with what she makes me feel. Everything is so new, so visceral. Emotions were a glorious discovery at first, but now I’m enjoying them at the cost of my control. If I don’t have control, the darkness will return. I can’t allow that to happen. If it does, I might as well kill her and be done with it.
It might be time to break her.
Chapter 8
Kathleen
Can I escape?
He spanked me. Like a disobedient child. He spanked me, and I liked it.
My old disgust rolled through me in my darkness. It was a struggle to hold on to it. When I thought of the heady release I achieved from the pain of his hand striking my bottom, I flushed with remembered pleasure. It warred with the disgust the memory elicited. It almost swallowed the disgust whole.