Betrayed by Love

by Lila Dubois

  “It seems I’ve lost your attention,” Mr. Wilcox said.

  Roman bit back an apology, not wanting to appear weak. He remained silent as Mr. Wilcox led him from the inner chamber to the small lounge. He closed and locked the door behind them.

  Mr. Wilcox poured them each a drink.

  Roman took a seat and his drink. Mr. Wilcox flipped a switch in the frame of the window. Blinds, sandwiched between the panels of glass, slid down, hiding the room beyond.

  “It’s soundproof, for understandable reasons. Though there is an intercom, in case I have visitors whom I chose to let both hear and see what my slaves are suffering.”

  Roman took a sip of the amber liquid. It was fiery and strong. Knowing Mr. Wilcox, that meant it was incredibly expensive.

  “Why me?” Roman asked, gesturing to the window with his glass. Though the blinds were down, he had a vivid memory of what the window could show.

  “Why you?” Mr. Wilcox swirled his drink, then took a small sip. “Why have I chosen to show you my most private and interesting room?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think there is potential for you to be a good Dom, and I see something of myself in you. You’re a businessman, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, real estate.” He was just starting out, but he’d spent years working for one of L.A.’s best developers and his first few investments had paid off. Someday, hopefully in the next year, he’d have enough cash to make some big-ticket purchases. The first would be an engagement ring for Savannah, second a house they’d shop for together.

  “Ah, I don’t deal with property.” Wilcox said it with a sneer. Roman took a sip to hold back a comment. He felt as if he and the man were in some negotiation, though what they were negotiating for was a mystery. “I think you do not take the lifestyle seriously, and you should.”

  Roman tried to imagine telling Savannah she had to be his live-in slave girl. She’d laugh herself sick after she stabbed him through the heart with a paintbrush.

  “Though I find your lack of commitment distressing, it is understandable. You have not experienced a slave, do not know what it is to be free of the emotional negotiations and compromises a traditional relationship requires.”

  “I’m sorry, but if you’re suggesting I spend time with one of your girls, I’m going to have to decline. Savannah and I are faithful.”

  “I thought you might say that.” Mr. Wilcox leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs. “I think I might have come about this in the wrong manner. While I do think you could benefit from a better understanding of what a real submissive, a slave, would mean, it is not really you I want to talk about. It is your girl.”

  “Savannah?”

  “To see her last night and earlier today was a revelation. I thought I’d sensed something in her, but the suspension bondage confirmed it. She was beautiful. Do you even fully understand what it was she was experiencing, what it was she found so arousing?”

  Roman was afraid any answer would reveal that he wasn’t the debonair Dom he claimed to be.

  “Tell me, without my assistance and prompting regarding what you should do, and without Robert’s coaching, would you have gone that far? You would not. You would have stopped, because she would have stopped you.”

  Mr. Wilcox uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his eyes glittering with the light of a believer. “She is a born submissive. She deserves to know real happiness. She is stopping you from showing her that because she doesn’t understand what is inside of her. You are hurting her.”

  Roman wanted to scoff, but he remembered the way she’d looked last night, lost in a pleasure so intense she literally shook from it. Was Wilcox right? He would never have done all those things to her if they hadn’t been there coaching him through it, assuring him she would enjoy it.

  “We’ll get there,” he replied, shifting in his seat. “We’re new to this, especially her. We’ll get there.”

  “You won’t because she’ll stop you. Earlier you were able to take her higher because she was already in sub-space. You know what that is?”

  Roman nodded.

  “She was deep into sub-space because of what she’d seen—a woman being properly used by a Master. By the time you laid your hands on her, she was ready to serve you. She’d put away her reservations because she saw Master Robert and his slave.

  “What you need, what she needs,” Mr. Wilcox said, his voice low and cajoling, “is for Savannah to be constantly that ready, constantly open to new things. Think of what you could do; think of how good you could make her feel.”

  Roman imagined her, naked and ready, kneeling at the door when he got home. He shook his head. Wasn’t it enough that she greeted him with smiles and kisses? What more could he want?

  He could want what Mr. Wilcox described. He wanted to be able to play with her as he had last night, wanted to experience things with her that he was scared to mention in case she rejected them out of hand.

  He drained the last of his drink. “How? How do I get her into sub-space? Is she a voyeur or something? Should we watch porn together?”

  “You’re being too literal. You should not have to ease her into sub-space. With a snap of your fingers, a single word, she should slip seamlessly into a state of mind where she belongs wholly to you.”

  Roman wanted more of what they’d done last night, he wanted to be able to please her like that, every time. If Wilcox was right, Savannah had been more open to what he’d do because she’d been in sub-space after watching Robert and Karen. He hated admitting he would not be able, on his own, to reproduce what they’d had together last night. “What do I do?”

  “Give her to me.”

  * * * * *

  Savannah licked her lips in anticipation. There was a tug on the leash and she took another step forward. She’d woken to find Roman sitting silently beside her. She’d reached up for a kiss but he’d held her back, instead holding up the blindfold that dangled from his fingers. She opened her mouth to say something, but he’d pressed a finger to her lips.

  Seeing his cool, serious face, she bit her lips to hide her smile and meekly submitted to being blindfolded. She hadn’t balked when he led her from their room, though she was naked. She trustingly followed him.

  Savannah struggled to keep from grinning. It was clear Roman wanted to play serious Dom right now, and having her trailing behind him grinning wouldn’t help the game.

  But it was hard not to smile when she was this happy.

  She felt closer to Roman than she had two days ago. She felt as though last night they’d gone through something together and had come out the other side more connected than ever.

  Plus really good sex always made her happy.

  Savannah didn’t hear anyone, nor did she sense the presence of any other people, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Maybe it was still early and Roman wanted to play privately before everyone else got up and came down for the evening’s festivities.

  Her feet moved from hardwood to rugs to cold concrete. Doors opened and closed. Finally Roman grabbed her shoulders, stopping her. He seated her on something cool and smooth, then helped her to lie back. Her arms were stretched out from her sides to lie along more of the same cool, smooth material she rested on. Finally her legs were lifted into place—spread wide enough for her to know he could see her sex.

  Savannah was trying to puzzle out what she was lying on, since it was wide enough to accommodate her spread arms and legs, yet it was much firmer than a bed. She gasped, jerking away slightly, when he attached a cuff to her ankle. It was solid metal, and thick, unlike the scarves or rope they usually used.

  “I’m here,” he soothed, then cleared his throat and said, much more gruffly, “Quiet.”

  Savannah again bit back a smile. He attached cuffs to the remaining ankle and each wrist. Once they were on, Savannah lifted her hands, testing them. The cuffs seemed to be attached to the thing she was lying on by a short bit of chain that rattled when she put her hands dow
n.

  Roman’s hands slid from the wrist he’d just manacled to her shoulder, then her neck. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her. He whispered, “I love you,” soundlessly against her lips. She recognized the feel of that whispered pledge, one he’d made many times before.

  He broke the kiss before she could respond in kind. There was the sound of footsteps, and the close of a door. Savannah had a brief moment of panic, then stilled. He was leaving her here to build up the anticipation. She relaxed and tried to imagine all the naughty things he would do to her tonight. She hoped they would have sex, instead of just oral. She wanted to experience those mind-blowing orgasms with him inside her.

  More footsteps.

  Savannah frowned. She hadn’t heard the door open.

  A gentle electronic hum filled the air, and then a vibrator traced a path down her belly to her sex. She was already wet, and when it pressed against her clit, she arched her hips, shouting, “Roman, yes.”

  He loved the sound of her shouting his name during sex, but a voice whispered, “Master.”

  Savannah realized the other couples must be there, and she did have an audience after all. She didn’t care. The footsteps and opening door must have been someone else.

  “Master,” she repeated obediently.

  “Tell him what you are,” came the hissing whisper. “Tell him you want this, you need this. Tell him you want to be trained to be a fuck toy.”

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but after last night she trusted the other couples at the retreat enough to do what they said.

  “Master, please,” she said, imagining Roman’s cock growing thick and hard at her words. “I want this. I need this. I need you to make me your toy, your slave. Hurt me, fuck me, make me want it.” The vibrator was circling her clit, keeping up a steady, maddening rhythm. “Take me, fuck me, own me,” she panted, barely aware of what she was saying. “I need this, I need to be your fuck toy, Master.”

  Savannah came, moaning in pleasure. It was a nice orgasm, but nothing compared to last night. She wasn’t worried. Roman wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of getting her here and tying her down if he didn’t have something special planned.

  The blindfold was pulled from her eyes.

  “Hello, slave.”

  In the small lounge, Roman ran a shaking hand over his face. He wanted to run back in there, scoop her up and take her away, but Mr. Wilcox’s words were still ringing in his ears.

  There was a click and her voice flooded the small room.

  “Master, please. I want this. I need this. I need you to make me your toy, your slave. Hurt me, fuck me, make me want it.” Her voice was husky and quiet. He stared at the shuttered window in shock. It had been less than ten minutes and already she was begging Wilcox to fuck her?

  “Take me, fuck me, own me.” She was panting now. How he loved the sound of her when she was aroused as she clearly was.

  “I need this. I need to be your fuck toy, Master.”

  The speaker clicked off.

  Roman turned to the little control panel, wanting to hear more, but a plastic cover, secured with a lock, prevented him from getting to the buttons.

  He turned away, angry with her. How dare she be aroused by someone else? In the next breath he realized how ridiculous that was. Of course she was aroused. They’d already established that she was a born submissive, and all she needed was a real Dom to tap into that. He’d unlocked this part of her, and he would have to live with it if that meant she would be aroused by other Doms.

  He should be happy. Wilcox had told him he would turn on the speaker for a few seconds after he’d revealed to Savannah what they’d decided to do. If she’d been uncomfortable or scared he would have heard it in her voice. Instead she was having the time of her life.

  Get over it. You started this. Imagine what it will be like after she’s had some training. Everything you wanted you’ll be able to do.

  Wilcox had sworn he wouldn’t have sex with her. He wouldn’t touch her with anything besides his fingers and his toys. Roman believed him.

  Savannah was getting training so he should too. Hiding his misgivings, even from himself, Roman went to find Robert and get a lesson on wielding a whip.

  Chapter Six

  Savannah looked around, then at Mr. Wilcox. She was alone in the room. Alone with him.

  “Where’s Roman?” she asked, voice husky with fear.

  He slapped her hard across the face. “That is no way to address your Master.”

  Savannah licked blood from the inside of her mouth where her cheek had cut on her teeth. She blinked away tears of pain.

  Go to hell, you evil son of a bitch. She longed to spit the words at him, but opted to be smart…and safe.

  “Where is Master Roman?” she asked, voice quaking slightly.

  He nodded in satisfaction and Savannah pressed her lips together to stop herself from snarling. He picked up a vibrator from a small table near her hip and began cleaning it. Her stomach rolled when she realized it was him, not Roman, who had brought her to orgasm.

  He took his time cleaning the vibrator, and only when he was done did he speak.

  “Your Master has decided he is done with your attitude and your games.” He casually reached out and pinched her left nipple. Her skin crawled at his touch. Savannah thrashed in her chains, panting and crying as she tried to get away from him. She was powerless to protect herself.

  Wilcox twisted her nipple, laughing as she struggled.

  Savannah fell back, her face wet with tears, her breathing ragged.

  “Please, I don’t want this. Let me go.”

  “You think you don’t want this, but you do.” He released her left nipple, flicked her right with his index finger and then pinched it. Savannah shuddered in disgust.

  This couldn’t be happening. Roman wouldn’t have done this, wouldn’t have turned her over to him. He loved her.

  “Better,” Wilcox said, releasing her nipple. His fingers settled possessively on her belly, then slid toward her sex.

  Savannah’s skin crawled and she couldn’t hide her disgust or her fear anymore.

  “Roman! Roman! Help me. Please, someone, help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, begging for salvation.

  Wilcox let her scream. Leisurely he went to a tall wardrobe against the far wall and opened it. When she saw what was inside, Savannah screamed louder. Wilcox selected a long, thin piece of wood. It dangled from a hook by a leather strap attached to the handle.

  “Roman, Roman!” she screamed. Save me, save me. I love you, you love me, save me.

  Part of Savannah couldn’t believe this was happening. The part of her that lived in a world where rules and custom protect a person from unwanted contact and deemed an uninvited touch not only taboo but illegal couldn’t believe what was happening.

  But a different part of her knew that she was powerless. She was in a position of weakness and vulnerability.

  He could, and would, do whatever he wanted with her.

  Wilcox carefully shut the wardrobe doors and turned. He swished the cane through the air.

  “Please, don’t,” she whispered.

  He slashed the cane down on her thighs. It wasn’t a light blow meant to pinken the skin or raise welts. It cut her, leaving a bloody stripe.

  She came up against the bonds. “Fuck you! You’re a degenerate asshole. This is sick and wrong. You’re pathetic, a pervert who gets off on hurting women who are better than you. You’re a small-dicked asshole, and no women in her right mind would ever willingly give herself to you. Fuck you. Let me go, you pathetic son of a bitch!”

  Another blow cut across her thighs.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and tears rolled along her temples into her hair.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked gently, petting her hair.

  “Why? Why would he do this to me? He loves me,” she choked out. The pain from the cane was unending, still radiating along her skin.

  “Loves y
ou? Maybe.” With the same calm deliberation he’d shown taking it out, Wilcox put the cane away. “He did this because you may be a pretty woman, but you will be an exquisite slave.”

  Savannah’s breath caught on a sob. “No,” she stuttered out, “no. This is just a game. All this was just a game, good sex. It’s not real, not serious.”

  “If that’s true, why are you here?”

  She sobbed in response. She turned her head, trying to hide her face against her shoulder, but he caught her chin. When she jerked her face away he grabbed her with both hands, squeezing her head.

  He brought his face to within an inch or hers, spit flying from his lips as he spoke. “You listen to me. You will be a slave—a beautiful, obedient slave. You think this is about you and your wants. The only thing you should want is for your Master to be pleased. And for now, I am that Master.”

  He shoved her face to the side and stood. Savannah took a few shuddering breaths.

  “That was the cane. You saw it used last night for play punishment. The stripes you just received were real punishment. Fair as you are it will probably scar. Let it be a reminder to you to behave. If you pay attention to your training and obey, I won’t have to do that again.”

  He undid the top two buttons of his shirt and Savannah closed her eyes. He was undressing. Next, he would rape her.

  She opened her eyes when she heard a snap and saw he was pulling on rubber gloves. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up.

  He returned to the wardrobe, again taking his time. This time he opened one of the interior drawers.

  “If I am to train you, I must first get to know you.” He set several things down on the table near her hip. A tube, a small flashlight and…a speculum? She peered at it before decided that yes, it was a speculum. She had a panicked moment wondering if he was going to rip her open with it, but it didn’t look any bigger than the one her gynecologist used.