Target This

by Lily White

  There was no sound between us, just the heavy force of our breath and my eyes followed the individual drops of sweat as they slid along his skin, glistening and changing direction when they found the cut muscles of his chest and stomach. He pulled out, standing perfectly still, awaiting the next command of his Mistress.

  “Oh, you are good boy. She is absolutely trembling from what you did for her.” Flashing me a wicked smile, she turned, hitting him on the ass. His entire body bucked forward from the slap.

  “Turn around, Adam, We’re done here.”

  He turned and she reached behind herself to take his hand. Leading him away from the room, she closed the door, leaving me alone to look at myself and to the exact type of whore I’d become.

  Hours passed, or at least what I was thought was hours. The silence, the lack of movement, it all pushed me into some form of stasis. I wasn’t there anymore - reality had shifted. But it was glorious. I didn’t care, I wasn’t scared.

  I. Just. Was.

  I existed. I was alive. I fell asleep in that swing without an identity and without the pressure of life or the ridiculous little concerns I had each and every day weighing down on my shoulders.

  Pulled from my trance, I felt his hands before I opened my eyes and saw him. Lucas stood before me, dressed in nothing but the flowing silk pants I’d seen him wear before. I tried like hell to come out of the daze the swing had left me in, but even after he’d removed me from the straps and lifted me to cradle me against his warm chest, I couldn’t shake my lethargy. It was like being frozen in a moment of ecstasy where nothing could reach you or touch you.

  But what made it truly like Heaven was the feeling that it was a place where nobody could ever hurt you.

  Lucas

  You know what’s more pathetic that allowing yourself to be abused? It’s allowing the free use of your body, allowing the degradation and humiliation, allowing yourself to be treated as if you are no more important than an animal or an object while, at the same time loving the man who commits the abuse.

  Weeks, months - hell – a year could have passed that I’ve been kept as nothing more than a whore. I’m a body and not a mind, my soul was crushed and broken so long ago, that I don’t really remember what it’s like to have thoughts or opinions, to think on any level higher than that of a woman intended for one purpose alone. Broken down into its simplest form, I don’t remember what it’s like to be human.

  It was so easy for him, and maybe, by my own ignorance, I’d created a situation where it could be easy. Never was I concerned about the initial signs of the abuse, the late nights out where he fell in with evil men, the physical abuse that started when he could no longer stand the sight of my face. However, instead of blaming him, I believed his lies and blamed myself. Maybe I had gained too much weight, or maybe my cooking skills were tragic. Maybe I hadn’t been a good enough wife to hold his interest and keep him from wandering out in search of a woman who could fulfill his every need.

  It started slowly at first, a mean word spoken here or a crude gesture there. I often wondered if I’d said something then -if I’d put my foot down and never allowed even the tiniest bits of abuse to be acceptable - if it would have grown into what it has now become.

  Not only am I his whore – his captive slave that can be used in any manner he saw fit – but I am a whore to the men he permits to use me as well. They are all evil in some way, each one having a different perversion that they liked to commit against me. Knives, whips, belts, fire-hot steel pressed against my flesh – it didn’t matter. Anything goes when you no longer have any say, when you have been reduced to property.

  My use was running out and I recognized it. I’d been an easy target, a woman who gladly accepted him back after he’d left me, shattering my self-worth and destroying my spirit. Even after he insulted me, even after he humiliated me in both our personal lives and on the papers he filed in order to leave me, I still ran willingly back into his arms, allowing him to take me.

  I laughed humorlessly at myself. What a dumb girl. What an ignorant fool to allow a smile, a gift or a kind word to trick her so easily. My body was broken down with violence and my mind was shattered by the confusion of hatred followed by affection. It was a pattern – I can see that now. However, it was a pattern that trapped my heart, that made me believe that in the end, he would choose me, that he would ultimately learn he loved me as well.

  But, he never did.

  Now, stuck in this cage of cold steel, I wait for the day when the abuse goes too far. There is no fight left inside me. I was given light, a false sense of hope, only to have it stripped from me daily with words that admonished me for having believed there was a chance in the first place.

  I couldn’t cry any longer. My eyes had long dried up and I wasn’t even sure my mouth could form a smile – or a frown. I was empty, I was cold and there was nothing left of the woman I’d been so many years before; the one who believed that good could prevail or that after the nightmare, the clouds would part to reveal a dream.

  The door to the room where they kept me opened slowly, a hooded and masked man entering who looked like he could be a medieval executioner. His strong body was covered in leather pants and two black leather straps that crossed over his chest. His mask matched his clothes and there were small metal rivets punched into the material. The sight would be enough to send any person into a panic attack, but not me. I wished for death. I was overtaken by the belief that I could somehow be freed once the blood was let loose from my veins and the breath had left my lungs.

  Kneeling down by my cage, the man used a metal skeleton key to turn the lock and open the door – the sound of the metal hinges screaming out through the dead silence of the room. I looked up into his eyes from beneath my knotted and torn hair and I thought I saw a flash of sympathy. It couldn’t have been real and I wondered if it was my own imagination playing tricks on me – lying to me like everybody else.

  I was pulled from my cage and a tender hand grabbed my elbow to steady me on my feet. My body felt like it was falling apart and I hadn’t been bathed in a week. I’d stopped being a favorite amongst the group. Food was becoming scarce and the only water I was allowed was what I could reach in the bucket outside my cage. I was left for two days to sit in my own waste – with sores beginning to develop on my body where my skin was pressed between my bones and the unforgiving steel.

  I wondered if they would just leave me for dead – if I would be tucked away in my hole until my body finally gave out. However, now that I was being pulled from my prison, I knew he wouldn’t let me go that easily.

  Before being led from the room, my hands were bound in metal cuffs and attached to a hook in the ceiling that kept them above my head. The masked man grabbed a hose, turning it on full strength before blasting me with the frigid water that felt like sharp blades slicing across my skin. I screamed but couldn’t hear myself; my body hurt but my mind didn’t register the pain. I’d grown numb to it all and that numbness was the only small bit of light in the blinding darkness of my life.

  When I’d been cleaned, I was pulled from the hook and wordlessly directed down a hallway to where I knew the ceremonial room was located. I didn’t bother to push the hair away from blocking my sight. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to see his face – the man who could look at me and make me feel the love I wished I’d never had for him.

  Entering the room, I heard the hushed giggle of a woman. Peeking out from behind the curtain of hair, I saw her. She was dressed in silk, her hair perfectly styled and her makeup flawless. Her body was laid atop a soft bed, her legs spread as my former husband forced himself inside her. Her moans reminded me of the ones I used to make when he was with me, the look of lust and satisfaction in her expression a slap in my face when I realized that she was the woman by whom I was being replaced. She was beautiful – I would give him that – and her beauty would was just another nail in the coffin he built for me.

  He continued to fuck her as I was led t
o the front of the room and up three steps to a stage. An iron cross was hung on the wall. Two men stepped forward, lifting me to buckle me into the shackles of the cross. When they moved away, I was left open and exposed to the room, completely defenseless in body, mind and spirit.

  The sound of her orgasm was unbearable, the carnal delight in her cry splitting me in two. When I looked up to see his expression, I found the tears I’d been unable to cry in the weeks before this moment.

  After buttoning his pants and offering his hand to lift her from the bed, he walked her forward so that she faced me. Her smile was cruel, the hint of evil glimmering in her eye. Reaching out with her hand, she accepted the barbed whip that he gave her.

  His steps were slow when he approached me and a look of sympathy stretched across his handsome face.

  This was the end. It didn’t take his words to tell me that.

  The heat of his body rolled over my skin when he approached me. Bending down, he kissed me on each cheek, before whispering, “I’m sorry, Amanda, but you knew this day was coming. You’ve outgrown your worth and you’ve been replaced by another who is more woman than I ever saw in you.”

  My heart split apart at those words and I’m not sure if I hated him more for having spoken them – or myself for still allowing myself to love the monster that now mocked me.

  Another chaste kiss on the lips and he stepped back until I was once again exposed to the room.

  The bitch stepped forward, whip in hand and a wild smile beaming from her face. Her arm reached back before she brought the whip forward, the barbs catching my skin to rip it apart where they made contact. The men in the room laughed as my body was shredded. But I smiled knowing that the end was coming for me – I was finally being released from the life I’d so foolishly stepped into.

  I couldn’t hear my own screams and I didn’t feel the metal shackles cut into my skin from where my arms and legs desperately pulled to get free.

  My last thoughts as I died – the last regret – was that I had never fought for myself when I could. I’d decided my own fate by not believing I was strong enough to fight. Fear, shame and the desperate need to feel loved had been my greatest weakness and they were the emotions that cradled and covered me when I closed my eyes for the final time. I was releasing a life that I never appreciated in the first place.

  …

  A week had passed since I’d brought Autumn out of the mirrored room. Watching with held breath, my eyes had taken in the sight of her hanging there, completely lost to her own reflection that gazed out at her from every angle. I’d expected her to react with fear to what Sarah had done. I’d expected tears, arguing…something.

  What I’d hoped for was for her to finally save herself, for her to finally say ‘no’, to accept the keys to her freedom.

  As usual, she didn’t. I was wrong when I’d thought it would be too much.

  Once again, my little rabbit fooled me. She still had strength inside that small body; she’d still chosen to endure, no matter how much it hurt her.

  However, the joke was on me in the end when she never suffered at all.

  You can imagine my surprise when I listened to the volume of her orgasm ring throughout the room. The hidden mics screamed with feedback, almost as if the cameras themselves had reached their own climax because of the sheer force of hers.

  It had been an inspiration still, but not from the fear that I’d hoped I would witness, it was from the mind-numbing ecstasy I never saw coming. I was shocked into silence, stunned to a point where my lungs burned for me to take another breath. I’ll admit my jaw dropped when I witnessed her come apart over the detective’s cock and jealousy suddenly enveloped me that it hadn’t been me who’d made her scream like that.

  I was inspired – yes – but it wasn’t the same obsession it had been before. I still wanted to control her, I still wanted her to bend to my will, but I wanted her to want it – to want me - as well. It was the final piece; the final breakdown in her psyche that would truly make her mine.

  It was the pattern used by every devious man, the mark of a Master who could use physical and emotional abuse to exhaust their victim only to turn around and rip her heart from her body, crushing her soul under the weight of the love she developed for him despite his cruelties. It was the ultimate manipulation and it was the only thing I’d not yet gained.

  It was time to seduce my beautiful girl instead of scare her; I set out to make her next days as glorious as possible. I showered her in luxury. Every morning she woke to roses and every night she fell asleep in my arms. The first few days, she still looked at me with a suspicious eye, but slowly, the hatred slipped away. Our days were spent together in the gardens and when I had to work, to record the magnificence of having a woman you controlled actually begin to fall so that she smiled at the commands you gave.

  I would leave her books in the library to read in my absence. At first, it was accidental that she stumbled upon it, but after three days, she would run into the room, anticipating what I’d selected next. I didn’t leave her the violent books, didn’t make her read about the fantastical darkness in my head. Instead, they were classics - books I knew a woman like her had grown up reading. They were the same ones that had inspired her to go into a career where she was surrounded by what she loved the most.

  This morning was no different and as I placed the roses in her room, carefully setting out the note I’d written her, I heard her body shift behind me on the bed. Glancing back, I noticed how her lashes flittered above the blue, her eyes crinkling as they were met with the morning sun that filtered in through the white gossamer curtains.

  A smile peeked out at the corner of her lip and she watched me move above the room. I pretended that I didn’t know she was awake, and positioning myself at the side table near the bed, I reached around quickly grabbing her and pulling her up into a deep kiss. She struggled playfully, but lost herself when our lips met, her tongue pushing from her mouth to caress mine. I lost myself to her – a shiver breaking across my own skin from how perfect she felt in my arms.

  When I was finally able to force myself to break the kiss, I was left breathless but still managed to voice, “Good morning.”

  “Hi.” It was all she responded with, but the light that seemed to emanate from her expression was all I needed to know that she’d found happiness in the week where I’d spent the majority of my time treating her like the a treasure. I’d given her everything I knew would make her happy. I’d sheltered her from the violence she’d seen before.

  However, despite those things, despite the gifts, the small tokens of my affection and the love I allowed to wash over her, it was what I’d done before her encounter with the detective that had created the trust inside her.

  I’d sent Sarah away. When I first told Autumn that Sarah wouldn’t be returning, that she’d angered me by pushing things too far, Autumn had been in shock. Days passed and when Sarah didn’t return, she slowly started to believe me. Guilt would wash across my mind every so often to know that I lied, that I wasn’t being completely truthful for why I’d sent my assistant away. However, Autumn didn’t know that and I allowed her mind to formulate the belief that Sarah was gone because she’d made Autumn sleep with another man. In the days following, when she truly believed that I’d chosen her over the woman who’d been with me for seven years, she relaxed, finally comfortable in, and accepting of, the relationship she never thought would develop between us.

  “I have to work this afternoon. My book is almost complete.” Reaching out, I ran my palm softly along her jaw. She smiled sweetly, her hands grabbing at the sheet and pulling it up to cover her breasts. Playfully, I pulled the sheets back until I was able to cover the tip of her breast with my mouth and swirl my tongue along the skin. Releasing it, I pushed myself back up above her. “I have you to thank for it. I never lied when I told you what an inspiration you are.”

  Rolling her eyes, a blush crept along her cheeks. I could embarrass her through humil
iation or a compliment. Either way, her body reacted to me and I became drunk on the power that held.

  “There’s something waiting for you in the library. Spend the day doing whatever you like. After that, I’ve hung a dress in your closet. Promptly at 6 tonight, I want you to get dressed and meet me in the dining room. I have a surprise.”

  “Another one?” Her resultant laughter was melodic as she reached up to brush the hair from her face and rub the sleep from her eyes. “I don’t understand why you spoil me now, after everything that’s happened.”

  Bending down, I placed a soft kiss on her forehead before saying, “Because you’ve stopped disobeying. I told you that you decide your fate. Now that you’ve learned to listen, there’s no need for further punishment.”

  Without giving her a chance to respond, I pushed up off the mattress, quickly leaving the room, knowing full well that she would be waiting for me in the dining room dressed in the gown I’d selected for her.

  Autumn

  After a leisurely day spent lounging beneath the blossoming branches of the cherry trees, I’d run inside when I saw the sun setting softly in the distance. I knew it was time to dress for whatever surprise Lucas had in store.

  The past few days had been like a whirlwind and I wasn’t quite sure whether I was living in reality or not. I’d lost touch with myself over those days, forgetting that on the outside of the gates that surrounded Lucas’ property, there was a town that still looked for me, faithful in the belief that I’d killed my best friend and burned my house down around her body.