*****
Standing in the corner with my nose to the wall in the dining room, with my hands laced together at my back and headphones muffling whatever talking was going on...I had time to think. The men were eating. No doubt they were staring at my ass since Piet... Since Sir had only deigned to let me wear lacy underwear. It was true what I’d said to him. I hadn’t registered why I was gravitating toward the people at the beach. It had simply happened automatically, like my body knew I should be trying to escape even if my brain had lost the plot and neglected to remind me. I sighed and leaned my forehead on the wall.
I was losing it.
So tired. I’d never known orgasms could be a punishment but between my legs throbbed, and not in a good way.
Crazily, from the flurry of montaged images from the drive here, the one that kept coming back was of his face just before he kissed me. He’d seemed exultant? Like I was something special. That had impressed me. How many times had I ever seen that on a lover’s face? Never, ever, ever.
I’d felt as if I’d won a victory too, in making him so happy. Being face fucked had blissed me out for a while.
I sighed. Clearly I was sunstruck. Or lovestruck. Life was just fucking wonderful when you were fangirling your captor. My Dom. Because, really, that’s what he’d be if he wasn’t my abductor.
The man should be in prison.
My heart did a fancy dub, dub as if it knew something I didn’t. I loved being at his feet and I was beginning to see that if I was anywhere else I’d be miserable. If I was back home right now I’d be pining for him.
That simple. That crazy.
“Here.”
As if by magic, Sir’s hand appeared holding a glass of milk and his other hand rubbed my back.
“Drink. I’ll get you food soon. You’re pleasing me.”
I’d had water already but I was starving too. After I drank, he took the glass, gave my butt a pat, and walked away.
The wall was hard against my head. My interlaced fingers were wet from the condensation on the glass, and I was about to cry. Not from being tired. No. It was because his praise had sunken in and made me glow with warmth.
I was indeed losing it.
*****
“What are you going to do with her now?” Glass was next to me at the table. He stuck another piece of steak in his mouth. “I mean I know you’re going to fuck her silly later, ’cause who wouldn’t. I mean now, what now? She’s still trying to get away?”
I stared at her – all mute and meek, hands at her back like I told her to.
“I’ll be training her still. Be good and don’t distract her too much. No touching her.” I nodded at Jurgen, who was leaning back in his chair, with his head twisted around so he could eye her. The man had enough tattoos on him to give him ink poisoning, enough piercings to make a surgeon jealous, many of which were self-inflicted, and a libido any other pushing fifty-year-old man would envy. “No touching, Jurgen.”
Unless I said he could. It was a possibility I’d considered, sharing her just to imprint on her how much I owned her.
Only that idea gave me such a twisted-up gut I doubted it would work.
“Sure.” He wiped his nose with the back of his fork carrying hand then rubbed the same hand through the dark stubble on his scalp. “Cute one though. I’m fokken fascinated.” He sat up and leaned on the table, coming in close. The corrugations on his forehead said he was serious. “If you’ve pulled this off with a woman like this, from what I’ve heard of her background... A journalist with awards and all. Kudos.”
“Pulled it off.” Was that really a compliment? I sucked on the inside of my cheek while looking at Jazmine. “She’s not fully my slave yet.”
“You’re closer than you think.”
Glass nodded then added quietly. “I agree. She’s close. You just don’t see it. The change since you left here is enormous. Another few weeks of whatever you’re doing to her and you’re set.”
Were they right? She hadn’t moved an inch.
I decided. “One month from now let’s have another dinner. A special one. Unless I don’t think she’s ready. I’ll need a few things. I need to see if you can do something to her, for me. Piercings.”
“Yeah. No problem. Can I do her nipples?” He chuckled. “I won’t even charge for those.”
“I bet you wouldn’t. No.” I checked her out again, the little wriggle she did every so often, when she adjusted the position of her feet, and that white lacy underwear, it made me yearn to drag her upstairs immediately. “What I want you to do, you might have to pay me for the privilege.”
What I wanted from him was maybe too personal for me to let him.
I thought through it. I’d enjoy it. So why not do it myself? It wasn’t as if the government had legislated that owners of slaves couldn’t fuck with their bodies.
“What if I asked you to teach me how instead?” I raised a brow at Jurgen.
He sniffed. “Damn. Meaning I miss out?” His shrug was accompanied by a grin that said he knew why I wanted this.
“Pieter.”
I looked to Glass. “What?”
“I need a test on that day. You’re going to need to pretend to let her go and see if she comes back.
I couldn’t swallow for a second. “Ja, I know.”
Chapter 37
For the next week, I concentrated on what some in the BDSM lifestyle would call protocol. Kneeling on command and on my entry to a room. Crawling on command. Saying Sir without hesitation, and any hesitation was punished, severely. I could do pain that she didn’t like as well as pain that made her scream her loudest climaxes and left her trembling with need for the next. Averting her eyes from mine for a week, and then at the end of that week, always meeting my gaze, unless I ordered otherwise. She slept on the floor by the side of the bed, unless I wanted her with me. Sometimes, though I never said, I drew her to me simply because I wanted to cuddle.
Cuddling...nothing wrong with that in a normal relationship. Or pillow fights. Or flowers. I couldn’t see us doing the last two. I’d turned that over and thought about her and me in that situation and came up with a blah reaction. I’d only want to wrench the pillow off her and make her bite it while I bent her over and spanked her until her ass was red. But cuddling, yeah.
That was the bastard thing of all this. I needed her unquestioning, a robot, and yet I could see and feel much of her that I loved draining away. It was heart breaking, but if she tried to escape again, the punishment might well be death...if I allowed Glass to do it. I was a mean man but Glass was even meaner. Or so it seemed. What would he do if he too adored a woman like this?
From small things she did, I could see fire still lurked deep inside. Would it be smothered entirely if I kept this up?
I had no clue. For the next week, I blindfolded her whenever we slept. In the morning she had to wait for me to remove it before she could rise. It made waking up every morning like a birthday. My present awaited me, wrapped however I’d arranged it.
I sat on the edge of the bed and admired her for ages as the sun’s rays strengthened and striped the ivory walls. Like the work of some ancient painter with an eye for beauty, the rays lay across my lady where she knelt, waiting. One wrist was attached by a long and fine steel chain to the leg of the bed nearest my pillow. The silvery chain crossed the timber floor then climbed to her wrist where the cherry-red cuff circled her. Her lips pouted, glossy as a ripened apple, and begging to be molested.
Rembrandt would have done her justice.
I rubbed at the whiskers on my chin and thought about standing but a stripe of sun approached her breast. It slanted across her areola, kissing it. I imagined my tongue there, or my mouth, and hardened. I remembered my cock in that sweet mouth but she was so perfect sitting down there on her quilted mat, with the black blindfold wrapped over her eyes and the long tails of the knot tumbling over her shoulder, that I still didn’t rise. Such soft elegant curves. My gaze travelled over her thighs and breas
ts and down to her waist, to where the swell of her succulent bottom showed. The V where her thighs met her body hinted at her pussy, a place I meant to explore soon.
“Part your legs, girl.”
She slid them aside.
“More.”
Ahh, mouthwatering. My cock was fully at attention.
I wanted to keep her like this – as my gorgeous prize – and I wanted her as a woman, in my bed, because she wanted to be there. I needed more than her flesh; I wanted her, whole.
I also wanted her alive.
Fok this. “Stand and come forward.”
When she reached me, I unclipped the chain then took her hands and guided her until she straddled my legs and my cock settled in place at the very start of her sweet little cunt.
“Give me your wrists, meisie.”
Her intake of breath alerted me. As I linked her cuffs at her back I asked her, “Do you think you’ve earned that?” I smoothed my hands up her arms to her shoulders then down to her warm breasts. The weight of them in my hands prompted me to grip both in the circle of my fingers. I pulled her deeper onto my cock, absorbed in how her mouth fell open and she sighed.
“Answer me.” I kissed her mouth and pushed my cock all the way in. The squirm as she wriggled herself in place was so cute. I nipped her lower lip. “Answer.”
“Uhh, Sir?”
Pumping up and down slowly seemed to space her out even more.
“Have you earned being called meisie? Are you my good slave girl now?” My hoarse voice betrayed my own passion. The ripple of her around my cock demanded more action. So I turned, toppling her onto the bed, rolling her to her stomach but keeping her knees on the floor. Then I fucked her properly making the bed shudder and protest with almost as many squeaks as she.
At what seemed a word gasped from her, I halted with my cock halfway out. Her juices had spread and made her thighs glisten. With my forefinger, I dipped into her cunt entrance, sliding it in alongside my cock. I pulled my finger out and drew a long curvy trail with her moisture to her butt.
Inserting my digit again made her quiver and her pussy tighten on my finger and cock. I watched the squeeze of her entrance where my shaft disappeared into her. Sexy fucking sight. Next time I’d get pictures.
“What?” Had she gathered her wits and recalled my question? I slipped another inch of cock into her. “Did you want to answer my question?”
*****
Question? What question of his? I’d missed something. When he’d entered me, my mind had plummeted into arousal space.
“I’m sorry Sir, I forgot your question. Punish me if you wish to.”
His reply was incredulous. “You’re asking for punishment?”
And that had hit the heart of the matter. I hesitated then blurted it out. “Yes, Sir. And I wanted to ask you something too.”
“What?”
He stayed dead still while he waited.
I crammed shut my eyes, wanting him to shove his cock in again, but my gentle bowing of my ass earned me only a smack. Having to say this was excruciating. I held my breath a second then plunged onward. “Can you hurt me, please Sir?”
I blushed, the heat flaming across my cheeks. Thank god, I was face first in the sheets, staring into the blindfold.
“You want pain?”
“Yes.” My affirmation squeaked out. I’d never asked him this and it seemed so wrong.
“Next time, ask me before I’m about to explode in your hot little cunt. Before I’m inches deep in your sopping wet pussy. Then I will. I’ll bruise you so hard your screams when you come will scare away the damn birds in the trees.”
The bed shifted and I felt his breath on my neck and he bit me there, hard enough to make me gasp. Hard enough that my pussy compressed onto his cock. Delicious pain.
“I felt that, little slut.”
Then he pounded me into the bed with his thrusts, ignoring my cries, which only made it more delicious. He came partly inside me before he pulled out. The rest of his cum splattered on my back and my hands where the cuffs held them behind me.
I lay with my eyelids at half-mast, staring into the darkness of the cloth, feeling his solidly muscled arm draped over my back. When he moved in closer, I was pinned by the weight of his leg also, with his chin beside my ear. His inhalations and exhalations warmed my hair.
Oh god. This I loved. I didn’t care whether he made me come or not. I just wanted to be his after he fucked me. I released a long joyous sigh.
*****
I made sure not to call her meisie after that. It hadn’t been right even though the revelation of her asking for pain had startled me. I experimented and made her beg for pain at least half the time before I gave it to her. It worked. Sometimes she begged for it on her knees, the need intense.
Please Sir, hurt me. Those words had such power. I’d never been so hard.
Pain and pleasure had become entwined for her, almost inseparable. Perhaps that and dominance had been the missing ingredients for her past lovers. Whatever, I had the magic. I bet Merlin never used canes, whips, or needles. Needles almost became her favorite, sending her flying so easily.
The night I made a train track of them snake from her nipple to her mons, she blissed out entirely. With some candles for lighting up my needy victim, I took a gallery of pictures of her naked, needle-decorated body.
Such a tasty little girl she was when she begged.
Begging for cock was the obvious next step. She took to that like a duck to water. Then, of all things, she asked me to fuck her mouth. I found out that making her drool and cry a few tears turned her on even more.
Was I transforming her into my sex toy, or my perfect lover?
She wasn’t a robot, not by any stretch of my imagination. Not when I leaned over her after coming, with her sweaty and semi-comatose from orgasming, her hair tangled and thrown in a crazy halo about her head. But I guess she’d had nothing from her other lovers, while I served her up a feast.
The day arrived, a month after that first meal, and Jurgen and Glass and I sat down at the dinner table. It should have been a celebratory feast but it felt like a wake.
We were letting her go, with that lethal clause...if she truly walked out, she died.
I’d left her here alone, numerous times, while on jobs for Glass, locked up mostly, though sometimes with instructions for one or the other of the men to care for her. I trusted them in combat. I trusted them with her. Except now.
I’d taken her to the entry foyer, uncollared, uncuffed, clothed in a cute red dress and with underwear on for the first time in days, with more clothes in a small suitcase and some money. I’d kissed her and told her she could leave if she wished to. Now, we watched her on CCTV. If I had to sum her up, out there in the hall, it would be small, alone, and pretty.
And fucking mine. What was I doing?
My heart ached. She hadn’t moved in these few minutes apart from turning her head to check the room. She hadn’t been in there by herself since the day when she’d escaped.
Though the camera lens was tiny and up next to the light in the ceiling, she looked directly at it a few times. In her eyes I recognized fear. I’d seen that often enough, and caused it many times.
I was sure I also saw plain anxiety. She’d been my girl for so long. Had I crippled her? Though honestly that had been my aim.
The guard at the gate was alerted to keep the gate locked and Randall was waiting with him. She couldn’t actually get out without turning into a spider and climbing the walls. If she screamed we’d be on her in seconds and no one in this neighborhood would bat an eyelid.
The chair creaked as I sat back in it, thumping into the timber.
Glass eyed me sideways. His white blond mohawk looked sharp enough to attract a whole flock of women today. “What?”
“How long?” I asked sourly.
“Before we grab her again? Another five? You’ve done a thorough job on her head.”
I grunted and resisted grinding m
y teeth. Time ticked past. Without sound what I saw in the monitor seemed dreamlike or a nightmare. She walked to the door and opened it. I tensed, only relaxing when she stayed there, looking out toward the guard.
What the fok was she doing?
“Time.” I rose, shoving back my chair with a screech.
Jurgen took a handle of nuts from a bowl on the table and threw them in his mouth. “Thank fokken god. Go get her. If you’d tried killing her, either of you, I’d have whacked you both. I like her. Fucking waste as well as damn shocking to kill her. We’ll figure something, Pieter.” He crunched onto the nuts then pointed a finger. “She’s moving.”
Glass grunted. “You better go.” I stared and he shrugged. “So? Figure out something.”
Was that him bending? If she ran, she broke his rule.
Words with him seemed pointless. I strode to the door and headed after her.
She’d made it as far as the driveway where she’d deposited the suitcase. At the sound of my boots crunching closer, her shoulders slumped a little, but she said nothing, took no step, just waited. I went around and stood before her and stared down at her bowed head. A breeze stirred stray tendrils of her black hair, wafting them over her bared shoulders. My pretty siren. For a moment, I saw her naked and wrapped in barbed wire.
Slow as the moon rising, she raised her head. At the first sight of her liquid greenish eyes, I raised an eyebrow. Now to see what she would do. Her lips trembled...
Chapter 38
He was here.
I didn’t want to leave. Whenever I thought of stepping into the outside world I felt the ache of loneliness sweep through me, cold, raining on my soul, making me less than I was.
As his, I was someone. Out there, I was nothing but a cog in the machinery of society, doing my little job, growing old, growing less, dwindling day by day.
I was afraid he meant to truly free me. I knew it was bizarre and despite all my knowledge of the psychology of people in captivity, I also knew I was right to stay.
All that had happened these last few months had slowly disintegrated my sense of self and now I felt the tattered remnants of my ego unpeel from my bones and blow away, dust on the wind.
Seize me From Darkness (Pierced Hearts Book 4) Page 24