by Terry Towers
“I’m so close.” My whole body was on the verge of exploding and there was an ache in my stomach that only release would relieve.
“Are you ready?”
“Almost.”
“Come for me. Come over my cock, baby.”
“Oh Tanner!” His words were the incentive I needed, sending me spiralling over the edge. My fingers dug into his shoulders as I attempted to get him deeper, as deep as possible within me as my pussy clenched around his cock, begging him for his seed.
“Jesus, Emily.” He lowered his head to my shoulder as he slammed into me a final time, unloading his seed into me. The feel of his cum filling my core sent me into a state of ecstasy all over again and I cried out, tears streaming down my cheeks as I came for him again. I pulled him tight to me, allowing myself the luxury of basking in the fantasy, allowing myself to fall for the illusion that tonight was real, special.
When he eventually pulled out, rolling over onto his back, to my surprise he brought me with him, pulling me into his embrace as if he really cared for me. I didn’t look up into his eyes, didn’t dare. I couldn’t bear see the look of cool detachment that might be in his eyes now that it was over. Instead I placed my cheek on his chest, closed my eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter 19
Tanner
“Emily,” I murmured as I began to wake, reaching out to her on the bed beside me and coming up empty. It took less than a second to realize she wasn’t next to me and a second more to realize she wasn’t in the room. My eyes sprang open and I shot upright in bed.
Fuck, fuck fuck! How fucking stupid can I be! I’d gone to sleep without cuffing her and without her collar on. She could be long gone by now and there could be cops on their way to my place while I slept like a fucking idiot. I’d given her a fantasy date night? What? Why? To make her happy? Since when did I give a flying rat’s ass whether she was happy or not? This wasn’t about her; her happiness was irrelevant.
I’m never sloppy and I never make mistakes like this. Never. That bitch was getting under my skin, causing me to make mistakes. I thrust a hand into my hair in agitation, attempting to simmer myself. It wouldn’t do me any good to lose my head. I hadn’t even checked the house yet. Jumping from the bed, I didn’t bother with clothing, but rushed from the bedroom to search the house. This chase wasn’t fun, not in the least bit fucking fun.
Entering the kitchen, I skidded to a stop and let out a sigh of relief as I spotted her wearing one of my white button-down dress shits, standing at the stove, preparing breakfast. My eyes scanned the kitchen to see she’d already set two places at the table. I opened my mouth to speak, but had no motherfucking clue what to say. I rarely felt fear, but in the instant when I thought she may be gone, I’d felt it. And I didn’t like it.
But why? Was it a fear of being caught or a fear of never seeing her again? I didn’t have an answer for that and it sent a surge of rage through me. Fear was weakness, fear meant I’d fucked up. I don’t fuck up, but somehow, for some reason, I’d had a lapse in judgement and it was her fault.
“Tanner. Morning. You were sleeping so soundly, I thought I’d make breakfast for us.” She gave me a tentative smile, a faint blush colouring her cheeks as her eyes lowered to my morning wood and then quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on turning the bacon.
She could have escaped while I was sleeping. She could have killed me, found the keys to my car and left, never looking back. But she hadn’t. She’d stayed. That only further fucked with my head. I didn’t have the answers; I needed the answers.
“Why are you here?”
Her body froze and she looked into my eyes. I could see her fighting not to cast her gaze lower to my rigid dick. “We had a deal.”
There it was. The deal. There was no actual affection towards me, no, it was all about her and her need to martyr herself. The good little Christian girl willing to sacrifice herself for some faceless strangers and her family. That angered me. It shouldn’t, but it did.
“Fine. And now that Victoria is gone you’re to take care of my needs when I want them serviced. Now get over here, on your knees, and earn your keep.”
She cringed, looked nervously at the bacon in the frying pan and then back at me, the sadness in her eyes so intense that if I had a heart maybe I’d have felt bad. “But breakfast.” For a moment I thought she was going to cry – it was evident she’d taken time to make the perfect breakfast – but she took a deep breath in and nodded, determination flashing in her eyes. “Yes, Master. Of course.”
Walking up to me, she fell to her knees and took me in her hand. Her obedience didn’t give me nearly the amount of satisfaction it should have.
***
Emily
It really had been a fantasy. My father had been right, I was a foolish little girl. I had to be, because for some reason I’d believed that something had clicked between us last night. I’d been positive I’d seen something in his eyes. Even the way he’d held me and trusted me not to run had made me think maybe the dynamic between us had changed.
Foolish, just foolish. Maybe I deserved to be treated like this.
“What?” he snapped, stabbing a hash brown with his fork.
I looked up from the breakfast I’d prepared for the second time. I had to throw out most of what I’d previously prepared and recook it. I’d tried my best but it had seemed to take him forever to actually come. There had been a couple of times I’d looked up and seen the frustration in his gaze, which had only seemed to make him angrier. He certainly hadn’t had any problems last night coming, and my aching pussy was evidence of that.
“Excuse me, Master.”
“I’m asking what you’re moping about. I gave you your fantasy date night. I fucked you exactly how you wanted to be fucked. I’m allowing you wear that shirt even though I hadn’t given you permission. So what’s the problem now?”
“I’m fine.”
He tossed his fork onto the plate with a clang, not bothering to eat the hash brown. “You’re not. I want to know what it is. Are we back to this ‘I want to go back to my family’ bullshit?”
I glared back at him. Well, fuck him, he wants to know… Fine! “You don’t have to be such an asshole. You could at least be a little bit nice to me. I’m doing what I’m supposed to, I’m acting like your trained fucking dog doing everything I can to make you happy.” Throwing my own fork onto my plate, I stood so quickly that the wooden chair went falling backwards. “So if you don’t mind, Master, I’d like to go back to my little dungeon.”
The muscles in his neck flexed as he white-knuckled the table across from me. “Consider what you’re asking for, slave.”
Taking a couple of steps away from the table, I looked down at the shirt. If I were to be completely honest with myself the main reason I was wearing it wasn’t to cover myself from him. I’d grown used to him seeing my body and was surprisingly okay with that. I was wearing it because of his stupid cologne that I liked so much and the very faint scent that clung to the expensive cotton.
“And don’t think you’re doing me any favours with this shirt.” I tore it from my body, not caring that buttons were sent sailing across the kitchen floor. “You can have the fucking shirt!” Balling it up, I tossed it at him, hitting him square in his glaring face. He stood so quickly I jumped backwards, but then squared my shoulders and eyed him. I would not back down.
“You’re testing me, slave.”
“You may take pride in the twisted idea that you’re a psychopath. You use it as some excuse for being a sick, twisted fuck. But you know what I think?” I didn’t wait for him to respond, “I think you choose the way you are because there’s nothing in you worth knowing. You abduct women because that’s the only way you can have someone in your life.”
His face transformed into complete blankness. No expression, no emotion evident anywhere. Even his eyes were blank. Then he lunged.
With a scream I raced from the kitchen and knew exactly where I wa
s heading – the door. Freedom. Just as I reached out to grab the door handle, I was scooped up and tossed over his shoulder – his good shoulder.
“You want to see sick and twisted? You want to see how fucked up I can be, slave? I’ll show you.”
I let loose – releasing all the pain, frustration, anger as I kicked, screamed, pounded on his bare chest with my fists. Nothing slowed him as he descended the stairs towards my dungeon room. I screamed obscenities that I didn’t even think I knew until the words were coming from my mouth, to hell with being a lady. To hell with being sweet. Fuck being the Proverbs 31 wife my father always wanted me to be. This was my life, I’d live it how I wanted even if it meant living with Tanner and fighting him every step of the way.
He carried me past my room, past the room which had been Victoria’s and into the showroom. I stopped fighting, just for a moment. Why were we here? But we kept moving. I hadn’t noticed the day I was in the showroom, but there was a door behind the bar. He opened the door and walked through.
The room was black, but with a flick of a switch a dim light illuminated the room. Tanner proceeded to carry me into the room, stopping at the center. I barely noticed him setting me on my feet or the fact that he was grabbing my wrists and securing my arms over my head. I was too distracted.
The room was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. The walls were padded with red leather and black accents, with a black marble floor. But that wasn’t the shocking part, it was the contents. The furniture and machines… I had no idea what they were used for, but most had bonds so I could only assume they were sex equipment of some sort. Whips and canes were neatly lining the walls and a large dark mahogany double dresser sat with heavens only knew what contents.
It wasn’t until he stepped away from me that I realized he’d secured my wrists to a post at my back. “What is this place? Some sort of sick torture room?”
Tanner grinned, but this grin wasn’t sexy or playful, it didn’t make my heart skip a beat - it scared me. “Something like that. You accused me of being horrible to you. I think you used the term ‘sick, twisted fuck’.” He tapped the bridge of my nose with his index finger. “Quite the language from my little church girl; perhaps I’ve been a bad influence. I’ve been holding back, but now…” He walked across the room and picked up an ominous-looking black whip.
“I’m not scared of you, Tanner. If you’re looking for me to beg, forget it!”
His smile widened, but the smile didn’t follow through to his eyes. “Now, come on. You’ve got to admit, you did a terrible amount of begging me last night.”
How dare he? How dare he bring up the previous evening and rub it in my face? Rage surged through me once again. If I could free my hands I’d punch that smug bastard in the face. Lifting my chin I centered my glare on him. I wouldn’t beg, I wouldn’t cry and I sure as hell wouldn’t ask him to release me. I’d take whatever he threw my way.
“I hate you!”
“Sounds about right. Now turn, face the pole, or you’ll feel the wrath of my whip across your stomach, and I assure you, you don’t want that.”
I wanted to deny him that, but I wasn’t completely insane in my rage. There was no way I’d be able to handle the pain I know that whip was going to inflict if I didn’t turn. Besides, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me wince. Without a word to him I spun and faced the wooden pole, settling myself tight to it, and gripped the leather cuffs restraining my wrists.
“I’d actually reconsidered marking you. But you’ve shown me I’ve gotten soft.” He slid his fingers down my back and I attempted to get away, but had nowhere to go so had to endure. “Your screams are going to be beautiful.” He stepped back and cracked the whip against the floor. I inhaled sharply and braced myself for the first lash.
***
Tanner
My grip loosened on the whip as I eyed her beautiful back – my canvas. For the remainder of her life she’d carry my marks, a reminder of our time together. I was getting hard just thinking about it.
“Just get it over with!” she growled.
I sure where this sudden bout of brazenness had come from, but it was fucking turning me on. The fight, the challenge, it’s all I’ve ever lived for and she was bringing it in spades, but with her defiant words and body. This was how it was supposed to be, screams and tears for me, not looks of affection and warm embraces. I’d momentarily forgotten. I wouldn’t forget again.
I cracked the whip against the floor a second time, but this time she didn’t flinch. She stood a little straighter and waited. Fine then, it’s time to play. I swung and it landed on her backside. Her body jerked against the pole, but she didn’t say a word, not even a soft ‘oooph.’ I narrowed my eyes at her, a part of me proud of how well she’d taken it.
I swung a second time. Again, no response. A third which landed across the marks of the first one, slicing open the skin. She grunted, but still no begging, no sobs.
My cock was at full mast now – fuck I wanted her, but refused the urge. Instead I swung and sent the whip sailing through the air catching her across the shoulders. And another and another. There were now a half-dozen slices across her back, blood slowly trickling down her back and to her backside.
She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t given me the satisfaction of her pleas. I was about to strike again, but stopped, lowering the whip and then allowing it to fall to the floor. I could see her body wearing down and she was beginning to slump against the binds. She couldn’t take much more.
“That all you have, you sick, twisted piece of shit?” she gasped. The fierceness was gone from her tone, but I had to give her credit, she’d held on like a champ.
I slowly made my way to her, forcing myself to simmer down. My cock was rock solid and it was taking everything I had in me not to fuck her. As I stepped up behind her I lowered my lips to her shoulder. “I wouldn’t goad me right now, darling. Not right now. Not when it’s taking all my strength not to fuck you.”
She looked over her shoulder and glared at me as she pressed back against my erection. “I dare you.” Our eyes locked and I could see the challenge in her eyes, daring me to take her.
“Fine.” Pulling down my fleece pants, my erection sprang free. Kicking her feet wide, I grabbed her hips, lined my cock up to her entrance and thrust up into her, groaning loudly as her tight pussy stretched to accommodate me. For the first time since we’d entered the room she cried out. “Is this what you wanted, slave? Your master’s cock?” I growled into her ear, biting at the side of her neck.
She cried out again, but began to move with me, bucking back against me as I thrust. “Bastard!”
“My beautiful church girl is now my personal whore.”
“Go to hell,” she managed to groan out between her series of whimpers and moans.
My thrusts quickly became frenzied; there was no softness in how I took her, no affectionate touches or attempts to make her feel good. None of what I had given her the previous evening. I fucked her like a man possessed, as if attempting to purge the demons within me, and maybe I was. Not in the literal sense, of course, but perhaps I was attempting to sate the evil beast that lurked within me so I could soften myself for her.
“There is no hell. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” I groaned, once more nipping at the side of her neck as I continued to hammer into her. I was close, so fucking close. My body had turned into a giant coil, ready to spring loose. My balls tightened and my cock throbbed. One more thrust, two, and then I was there. With one final thrust so forceful that it slammed her into the pole, I unleashed the fury of my cock within her, filling her cunt with my cum as I lowered my forehead to her shoulder.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I slowly slid myself from her. She hadn’t come with me. She’d barely been wet for me. She was right, I was a sick, twisted fuck. That hadn’t really bothered me until now, but now I was facing my demons, seeing them for what they were – for what I was – and I was
sickened and disgusted by it. I dropped to my knees behind her, my naked chest coated with a mixture of her blood and my sweat.
“Can I go back to my room now?” she murmured. Before I had a chance to answer her body went limp and she passed out.
Chapter 20
Emily
Upon waking the first thing I realized was the throbbing along my back in various area, but also a warm, wet, soothing heat. Why was my back hurting? What had happened? Tanner was sitting next to me on the bed, his bed, I didn’t have to open my eyes to know it was him; the faint smell of his cologne had embraced me. “Did you drug me again?”
“No. You passed out on your own this time.”
I might have laughed if I hadn’t been hurting so darned bad. “What happened?” Opening my eyes, I attempted to roll over onto my back but a searing pain raced through me and I groaned, flopping back down on my stomach.
“What was the last thing you remember?”
“You being an asshole.”
“Considering I’m always an asshole that’s not really narrowing it down.”
“Not always.”
His gaze caught mine for a brief moment and then he looked away, dunking a bloodied cloth into a basin of water. Lowering my gaze to his naked chest, I noticed streaks of already dried blood across the muscle. I watched as he wrung a white cloth out and proceeded to gently pat at my back and then it all came rushing back. Our fight, him carrying me down to that torture room and the whipping. Surprisingly enough, it hadn’t hurt as much as I’d expected, I’d been so consumed with anger and hatred for him that the physical pain had only faintly registered. In fact, it hurt a hell of a lot worse now.
Picking up the basin, he left and walked into the adjoining bathroom. When he returned he had a bottle of pills and a first aid kit. Opening the bottle, he passed me a couple of pills. I eyed the white tablets with suspicion. They weren’t like any aspirin I’d ever seen. “What are these?”