Snare (Delirious book 1)

by Wild, Clarissa

Remains.

  I scream, but Sebastian’s hand is yet again around my throat. “Stop. No one will hear you here. This room is sealed shut; no sound can escape this place.” He leans close to my ear, alerting all my senses. “You and I are going to have a little play time here.”

  Accompanying Song: “Body Electric” by Lana Del Rey

  Room 115. Providence, Rhode Island – May 8th, 2013

  With his firm grip around my arm, the door locked, and no windows, there is no way out. I block out the stuffed animals I can see from the corner of my eye and focus on what’s ahead. Playtime means he will claim me now. There is no negotiating. He takes what he wants when he wants it. There are two choices. Let him use me and take me in whatever way he pleases, accepting anything that comes with it, so that he’ll be satisfied and might let me go if I keep it up. Or I can fight him and hope I make it out alive. I figure option one is the safest, regardless of what it’ll do to my dignity, my self-worth.

  I know what’s coming now. I’ve seen it coming for days. Ever since he had me tested for STDs and forced me to have an IUD inserted. Maybe it won’t be as bad as last time. That’s what I tell myself, anyway. I try not to think about the fact that he just tried to choke me in the elevator.

  Whatever fucked-up reasons he has for doing what he does, I’ll find out what’s behind it all. It’s my only way out of this mess.

  He brings me toward a device in the middle of the room. It looks like a two-part bench with an empty space in the middle, and there are cuffs attached to the ends. A hook hovers in the air above it, ropes dangling from the metal. I shiver at the sight.

  “On your knees.” His command is swift but laced with anger. “And stay down.”

  As I go to my knees, he walks to a rack hanging from the wall with all sorts of toys, such as floggers, canes, scissors, knives, and other tools I don’t want to know about. Pain frightens me. Beads of sweat trickle down my back as he comes back, intimidating me with his feet as he strides behind me. “Take off your dress.”

  I do as he says. There’s no question in my mind that this is wrong, but what other choice do I have? So, I tear off the only piece of clothing that was standing between him and my fragile body.

  With both hands, he grabs my head and makes me lean back against him. His legs are sturdy, hard against my soft, yielding skin. His fingers caress my cheek and pet my hair, as he groans with delight. “Now tell me …what is it about this room that makes you so uncomfortable?”

  “The bunnies,” I blurt out.

  Searing pain on my left breast ensues. I cry out in pain. The paddle caressing my nipples causes the burn to intensify, pulsing throughout my body. I can feel it everywhere. It sizzles. It burns. It feels hot and cold at the same time. It’s making me feel delirious.

  “The bunnies, what?”

  “The bunnies, Mister Brand.”

  He caresses me some more. “Good. If you forget my name, I have to punish you. Now … tell me all about these bunnies and what they do to you.”

  “I can’t, Mister Brand.”

  “Why not?”

  A tear forms in my eye, so I shut them in the hopes of making it disappear. “I just … can’t.”

  He smacks me again, this time on the other breast. I bounce back against his pants, trying to get up, but he fists my hair and forces me to stay down. “Yes, you can. Now tell me, what is it that bothers you so much.”

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  Whack!

  “Please … I can’t take it.”

  “Yes, you can. If I say you can take it, you can take it,” he growls, whacking my nipple until it’s red and swollen.

  “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to have sex with me, and now you want to talk about bunnies?”

  He whacks me thrice this time, each harder than the previous. It stings so much that my senses have gone haywire. My muscles tense, preparing for the next blow, but it never comes. I’m left achingly empty as if I was expecting something. Like I wanted it to happen.

  Preposterous.

  “I make the rules, not you. And trust me when I say that I will fuck you.” He pulls my hair back far enough to tilt my head. “Look at them. Now tell me … what do you see?”

  “Pain…” The word makes me dizzy.

  He pats my head, soft strokes brushing through my hair. “Hmm … do you remember that bunny you received at the mental hospital?”

  “Yes …” I gasp. “Was that yours, Mister Brand?”

  “I thought it would cheer you up and help you work through your issues. Make you a little less obsessed with me and give you something to hold onto instead. I later heard you didn’t appreciate my little gift.”

  Oh God. I never knew it was his. “I’m sorry, Mister Brand, I didn’t mean to―”

  “Shh …Enough.” He strokes my chest with the paddle, reminding me that he has all the power. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. The underlying problem is obvious.”

  “What do you mean, Mister Brand?” I ask.

  “You can barely even look at them without shutting down. I knew it the moment I heard from Sam, Doctor Bailey, what you had done to the stuffed animal that it was all part of your trauma. I will help you with that.”

  “How?”

  “By forcing you to remember.”

  I think my heart stopped beating for a second.

  “Please, don’t …”

  He whacks my breast again. I hiss in pain. “Stop defying me. I can help you if you let me take control. It’ll all be better.” He strokes me with the paddle, moving down and up across my skin, causing a dizzying haze in my head because I’m expecting the pain and receiving none.

  “Trust me, Miss Carrigan. Let me exchange one pain for the other. Hot, sizzling, aching, pain will take away your fears. Let the pain seduce your body, mind, and soul.” He pulls back my hair and hits me again, making me squeal. “Don’t fight it. Feel it. Accept it. Love it.”

  In his pants, his cock grows, bulging against the back of my head as he spanks me with the paddle. “Spread your legs,” he says, placing the paddle between them. “Further. I want you open for me. Wet.”

  His words make me yearn for the love he could once give me, when I was still in the hospital.

  “Don’t think about what was or what could have been,” he says. “Focus on the here and now. You and me. This paddle and your red skin. The pain and your lust.” I close my eyes and concentrate on the sound of his voice, the gentle calmness in it that suddenly prevails. I haven’t heard him speak like this before, so soothing. It almost makes me forget that I’m a prisoner under his rule.

  Suddenly, he pulls my hair back, causing me to arch my back. He bends over and presses his lips firmly onto mine. He kisses me, so rough, and yet so lovingly, it takes my breath away. I don’t pull away. I don’t bite. I don’t push and shove. I let him kiss me, harder and more passionate than anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s as if this one kiss tells me he truly wants to be mine. And when he takes his lips off me again, I’m left with a wantonness I didn’t know I had.

  He smiles then hits me again with the paddle, surprising me. I fight to keep my legs open when the blow lands.

  “Your skin is so beautiful when it’s red,” he whispers. “I could lick you right now, over and over until you glisten like the sun.” When he plants a kiss on my forehead, I feel his cock thumping in his pants. At least his dick tells me the truth; he does want me. I wonder if this is how he expresses his love.

  He pats my hair and walks in a circle around me with a glint in his eyes and a simple smile on his face. He cups my chin and lifts it. “Keep your head up, little fairy. Look at me. Your beauty amazes me. Do not try to hide it. Be proud.” My lip perks up into a tiny smile from his comment. After sitting here naked for a while, I don’t feel so insecure anymore. I do still fear the paddle in his hand as he smacks it onto his palm. He places one foot between my thighs and looks down upon me, a dark aura surrounding him.

 
; “Hold onto me,” he says calmly, precise.

  I do as he says, wrapping my arms around his leg, and let my head rest against his shin. His body heat radiates through his pants, warming me up on the inside. It somehow makes me feel at ease. My nipples rub against the fabric, causing sweet agony. I don’t know why the sharp pain makes me want to hug him tighter, but it does.

  The grin plastered on his face is as alarming as it is erotic. He drapes the paddle over my back, reminding me of the power it holds but still keeps from spanking me. He strokes my hair like a pet sitting on his lap to the point of it relaxing me. For a moment, I’m almost starting to feel content just being here with him, not having to think about anything but his hand caressing me, making me feel better.

  It’s a sinful indulgence I shouldn’t give into, but I do.

  I do, because I need it. Badly.

  “Tell me how you feel,” he says. “And don’t lie. It won’t help you.”

  I don’t want to speak the truth, but I know I must. I don’t want to admit it, even if it’s the truth. “Better.”

  “Good. See me as your anchor. A pillar to hold onto during times you grow frightened. Cling to the pain I give you like you’re clinging to my leg now. Let it awaken the desires inside you. Let go of your fear and let pleasure take control.” He steps away. “Now crawl to the bench.” He points at it. I move on hands and knees toward the bench. I feel like an animal, debased, and yet my mind is okay with it all. It’s like I’ve accepted everything he does, even though I would normally find this disgusting.

  Instead, I feel like I’m prowling toward sensuality, like a cat stalking toward its destiny.

  When the paddle lands on my ass, I moan out loud. I didn’t expect the pain to arouse me so much. Its thumping pain excites me, setting the nerves in my pussy on fire. He hits me again, paddling me until I reach the bench.

  “Good little fairy … purr for me,” he says. I groan when the paddle lands on my ass again. “Get up on the bench. A leg on each side.”

  I lift myself onto the bench and position myself. My ass is awkwardly up in the air, exposed, and when he starts locking my hands to the bench, I feel the heat rising to my cheeks. My heart thunders as he shackles my ankles, too. He muffles a groan as he circles around me and then walks to the rack to pick up a new tool. Another butt plug.

  “Don’t worry, little red fairy. Trust that I’ll take care of your sexual needs. I’ll bring you ecstasy through pain.” He walks back to my ass, and I can’t do a thing to stop it. Rubbing lube on me, he warms me up before pushing his finger inside. Squeezing my own hands, I moan as he thrusts his finger in and out, getting me used to the idea of him fucking me. I’d felt the fullness before, but each time is a surprise. I feel dirty. Filthy for him doing this to me. Disgusted by my own body for liking it. My pussy clenches each time he does it, and when the butt plug enters me, my senses spiral out of control. I feel full and stretched, but at the same time, wide open for him to use. And somehow, the thought of it makes me hot and bothered.

  Dammit. I’m losing myself in this.

  “Oh, your ass is so perfect, Miss Carrigan,” he growls. “Perfect for my cock.” He slaps me, and I yelp, my body jerking up and down in the restraints. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Go slow …”

  He whacks me with the paddle, hard. My eyes almost roll into the back of my head.

  “I do not take orders from you, Miss Carrigan. You take orders from me. You are mine to use and fuck however I see fit, with whatever toys I desire to see inside and on your body. I tell you what to do, and now I want you to tell me how it feels to have my plug in your ass. Speak the truth or I will punish you.”

  “Good …” I murmur. It’s the truth. I hate it, but it’s the truth.

  It keeps my mind away from the darker corners of my mind. I’m completely absorbed in the moment, and it’s all I need right now. To forget about life … that’s all I need right now. His fucking makes me forget.

  The paddle comes down on my ass again. “Louder.”

  “Good!” I squeal. “So good, Mister Brand.”

  He groans, caressing my ass cheeks with his bare hand. “Such a beautiful contrast between your red ass and your white skin. I’ll make your pretty face flush even harder once I’m done fucking you.”

  I gulp, his words sending shocks down my body. His fingers slide between my legs, and I find myself arching to meet his touch. One single finger slips up and down my pussy, making me groan.

  “Hmmm … so wet.” He plants a kiss on my ass. “So … ready for me.”

  When he removes his finger, I’m left with an unwelcome longing.

  “So … you said you don’t want me anymore, because of the way I am or what I did. Let’s change that perspective,” he says. Before I know it, he’s between my legs, underneath me, licking me.

  I pant as he laps me up, his tongue uncontrollable, delicious. He sucks, kisses, licks in all the right places, pushing me to my limit. Oh God, this is hot. My restraints keep me from moving; keep me from grabbing something and moving to the rhythm of his tongue. Jesus Christ, this is making me so horny. My stupid guilty brain is telling me this isn’t okay. That I should be angry with him for lapping me up. God, I’m so pissed off that he’s making me want him so much.

  “Hmm … you taste so sweet. I could lick you all day and still not have enough,” he hums. “Are you close?”

  “Hmhm…” I murmur, biting my lip.

  He slaps my ass, but the pain reverberates to my pussy, intensifying the pleasure. “Sweet Jesus,” I cry out.

  “Yes, tell me how much you want this. Tell me how much you want my tongue all over your lusty pussy.”

  “I want it …” I pant.

  As he whacks my ass, the plug moves, and it causes my clit to pulsate. He suckles on my clit, tugging at it, making me cry out from both pain and pleasure. “Do you want to come?” he murmurs against my pussy.

  “Yes,” I moan. I give up. It’s useless. I’m no match for this.

  “Not yet, Miss Carrigan. I want you to beg me for more.”

  “Please … let me come …”

  He muffles a laugh. “I’ll make you beg me to spank your ass. That’s how you’re going to come.”

  He spanks me again, each blow harder than before, and I squeeze my eyes shut from the pain. His tongue is making me dizzy from desire.

  “Beg me, Miss Carrigan. Beg for pain.”

  “Please … spank me.” The words come out in a slur.

  His tongue presses down on my clit, which thumps from the imminent orgasm. “Now come while I spank your ass.” His mouth disappears from my pussy right before my climax. It’s too late. When his hand comes down on my ass, I explode. My breath catches in my throat as my body falls apart, coming undone from his continued spanking. His teasing was enough to bring me to the point of no return. Worse yet, the spanking only adds to the intensity of the orgasm. It’s so good; I almost want more of it, which makes me believe I’ve truly lost it this time.

  I actually want him to hit me in order to come even harder. What kind of fucked-up person am I?

  He laughs, sliding his finger into my pussy, surprising me. “Such a wet pussy. You deserve a reward for finally obeying me.” He pulls his finger out and swipes it on my ass then he walks to my front. I see the bulge in his pants before I notice his eyes staring down at me. He rips down his zipper and takes out his cock. I guess he never wears boxer shorts. No wonder he always demands me to go commando as well; it’s what he’s used to.

  “Open your mouth. Wide.” He slides in his cock before I have time to wet my lips. He grabs my face and slips in and out of me, watching me intently. His eyes almost peer into my soul as he fucks my mouth, making it hard for me to look away. My clit still thumps from the intense orgasm I just had, and I feel bad for getting aroused yet again. His cock slipping down my throat is just too much of a turn on. After all these nights of dreaming about this to happen, I can’t help but want more. It’s a weaknes
s in me I hate now, a weakness for him; the man I deemed my savior, now turned into the villain he truly was. And still, I desire his approval, his love, and the escape it offers me.

  “Yes, Miss Carrigan, do you see how much you like it? How much you want me still?” He groans, thrusting in and out. “Do you understand that there’s no escaping your need?” I want to smack the smile off his face. “Finally you stop fighting and accept it. Such a good little fairy.” He takes his cock from my mouth and jerks off a little before plunging back in a final time. Then he wipes the excess saliva on my cheek and walks to my ass again.

  “You have done well. You learned to accept the pain as a means to gain pleasure. Please me. Make my cock hard for you, make me want to come all over you. Make me want to need you.”

  “But Mister Brand, you already need me.”

  He chuckles. “No, Miss Carrigan. That is where you’re mistaken. You need me in order to fill the void left behind by your trauma. Someone to desire and cherish. Someone you can trust to make you whole again after breaking down your walls. I do not need anyone.”

  “Yes, you do. You need someone to control, and you won’t take anything less. There aren’t a lot of women who could give you that.”

  “But you can?” he says as he pulls the butt plug from my ass. I’m caught off guard but manage to keep a moan from spilling out.

  “Yes,” I say, struggling to catch my breath. “I give you what you need.”

  “Hmmm …” He starts lubricating my ass again. “You are a strong woman, I give you that. You may think you are weak, but I disagree. It takes a strong woman to receive the pain I offer and derive pleasure from it. To admit that, means you are aware of your own weaknesses, but you won’t let them overthrow you. You don’t succumb to moral subjugation, but to a man who is willing to pull out your darkest needs and fears and make them his own. Yes … Miss Carrigan … you are right on that part. We do need each other.”

  He walks to my face again and bends over. “And I think what you need right now is to come face to face with your fear. I won’t back down. Now be strong.” Suddenly, he places a bunny right in front of me. My eyes widen.