The General's Little Angel (Breaking Chains© Book 2)

by C. B. Hunt

  “You like that, huh?”

  “Leather is nice. Ow!”

  “Yes or no.”

  “Yes! No! I don’t know!”

  He laughed and resumed paddling me, slowly building in intensity until I lifted my foot and whispered ‘no.’ The strength of the swat lessened a bit and remained the same until I said ‘yes,’ whereas he began to increase again.

  “Should we stay with leather right now?”

  “Mmm, yes,” I murmured.

  “Okay, but I don’t want you to go into subspace just yet. Are you comfortable with tossing off these pajama pants?”

  They were already dangling at my ankles, so I let them drop to the floor. The absence of the material, even if it was just around my feet, left me with a strange sense of nakedness. Ray picked up a tawse and laid it on the back of my thighs.

  “It’s so warm,” I whispered.

  “That’s because I put my leather on a heating pad if I’m going to use it for play. Tell me if you like this.”

  The edges of the tawse bit into my skin at the same time that it administered a deep, thuddy bite. I couldn’t quite decide if I either liked or hated it until he increased his strokes.

  “No!” I yipped. “No!”

  “This would be a good one to use if I needed to discipline you. I’m going to save the belt for last since I already know you enjoy it. Let’s go back to my hand and then we are going to try something.”

  I was surprised that his hand felt deliciously wonderful after having been warmed up by the other implements and felt myself sinking under the hard swats. He popped the back of my thigh, bringing me back to awareness.

  “No subspace yet. Climb on the bed and stay on your tummy.”

  “What are you going to do? OW!”

  He wagged the ping pong paddle at me. “Yes or no.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I whimpered, burying my face in his pillow. The smell of sulfur made me swing my face towards him as he lit several candles, and I started to panic. “No! No!”

  “Shhh, stay where you are. You know I won’t hurt you,” Ray said soothingly, rubbing my back. “How did they burn you?”

  “Please … no …”

  “Talk to me. What did they do?”

  “Metal knitting needles,” I began to cry. “They heated them over candles and pierced me all over with the tips.”

  “Look. No knitting needles. It’s just a candle and some wax. See?” He lifted the candle and poured a tiny bit of melted wax on his hand. Gently, he pulled my arm out from under me and stroked my hand as he dribbled some hot wax onto my skin. It was very warm, but not painful.

  “Did that hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Can we take off your top?”

  He had seen me naked when I was drunk, but this was different. I wanted to trust him so badly that I could taste it but was paralyzed. “I can’t.”

  “That’s okay, Baby. This is about you.” He reached around and pulled the back of the pajama top to the top of my shoulders. I felt his hands trace the tiny scars that were nearly invisible between my freckles and heard him swear under his breath.

  “It’s just wax,” he said softly, drizzling the hot liquid over my back, bottom, and thighs. “Are you doing okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where did they hurt you the most?”

  “My breasts and between my thighs,” I whispered.

  He pushed my legs further apart and poured the wax over the backs of my thighs. It felt good! “Can you take it hotter?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  I wanted to hum. The heat between my legs and over the sore flesh of my bottom was amazing!

  “Are you ready to try the front?”

  He didn’t have to ask me twice. My fear had been replaced by curiosity, and as long as I closed my eyes, I didn’t have to acknowledge my vulnerable position. Of course, that didn’t last for long.

  “I’m going to pour this hot wax on your breasts. When you can, look at me. I don’t want you to hide.”

  “I can’t look at you. It’s too intimate. Ow! Stop that! Ow!” I yelped as he smacked the inside of my thigh. “Yes!”

  “Good. When you’re ready, lift your shirt.”

  The hot wax over my belly and cleanly shaved mound was so tantalizing that I couldn’t help but lift my shirt to expose my nipples. When the wax struck them, I nearly hit the ceiling with ecstasy.

  “I need to talk!” I gasped, my eyes wide.

  Ray stopped pouring and sat back. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, my God. That is so different than anything I’ve ever felt. It makes me want more, hotter, deeper. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain, and much of that is determined by the manner that it’s delivered. Even burns, if the receiver is in the right frame of mind, can be pleasurable. There is also the matter of consent. You have a voice here. You are allowed to say no, and that frees you to enjoy what your body is designed for.”

  “Fuck.” I shook my head.

  Ray tsked. “That F-bomb just earned you ten real strokes of the strap when we’re done here.”

  I didn’t care. In fact, I wanted it. I wanted pain, but for the pleasure, not for the escape. “What else do you have in that box?”

  He took out a double Wartenberg wheel and handed it to me. “Does it cut?”

  “No, but it gives the sensation of tiny pins rolling over the skin.” He took the instrument and gently ran it over my arm. “Do you want to try it?”

  I laid back as he ran the device over my skin, shivering as it skimmed across my nipples and then traversed across my ribcage. He replaced it with the crop and started to pop my flesh with the tip. It burned and tingled, but didn’t satisfy what I needed. How could I ask?

  “Remember when you told me to tell you when I needed pain?” I finally blurted. “I need it.”

  “Are you angry or hurting? Talk to me.”

  “No, not at all. I just want to see how much I can feel. Can you help me?”

  “Do you want to feel here?” He tapped my head and then my chest. “Or in here?”

  “I don’t know. I want just to let you do whatever you need to and help me,” I said quietly.

  Ray cupped my face with his hand and smiled. “I would be honored.”

  “Where do we begin?” I asked nervously.

  Grinning, Ray sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Where we always begin. Across my knee …”

  Chapter 12

  Les grew more pensive the closer it came to his transfer. We barely shared more than two words since we went on the maneuver and, when he did say anything, it was sharp, nasty, and sarcastic. I gave up trying to understand why he behaved as though I did something to destroy his life, but it didn’t make the pain or sadness disappear. Needless to say, when he asked me out to dinner the night before he left the island, I jumped at the chance with the hope that we could rekindle our relationship and make amends.

  I jotted a note for Ray and joyfully left the house to meet Les down at the tiny restaurant close to the beach. He was quiet through the meal, so I did most of the chatting. I asked him questions about the wedding, his fiancée, and the new assignment. I also limited my alcohol intake to a single Mai Tai, although I couldn’t say the same for my companion. I lost count of the number of Sake shots he had.

  After dinner, we took a walk to the beach. The moon was partially full, enough to light the white sand. Les stopped after we passed through the natural stone archway that was fully exposed at low tide, looked around, and then abruptly kissed me. I’ve been kissed before, but not like this. It was wrong—uninvited, forced, and unwelcomed. I pushed away and wiped my mouth in anger.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  He grabbed me and forced his mouth on me again, this time biting my lower lip and making it bleed. I tried to push away but couldn’t escape his drunken hold.

  “You like pain, right? You’ve teased me for almost two yea
rs now, wiggling your ass at me and knowing there was nothing I could do about it. Well, now I can. You’ll fuck a General but not me. I’m not good enough for your cunt, am I?”

  “What are you talking about? I haven’t fucked anyone! Ever! I swear!” I looked around desperately for help, but there was no one on the beach.

  He shoved me to the sand and started to tear at my clothes. I kicked and fought, but was no match for him. Panic took over. “No! Les, stop it. You don’t understand. We haven’t done anything wrong. There’s been no one.”

  He sunk his teeth into my shoulder, and I cried out in pain. “You’re nothing but a filthy whore. If you say a word to anyone about this, I’ll tell the world about you and Ray. You might not care about your career, but you do about his.”

  Betrayal of trust strips a person of everything joyous within them. Rape by someone who you trusted is a type of betrayal that few people ever truly recover from, and it influences every relationship for the rest of your life. Words spoken during the violation—many filled with spite, accusations, and vile ugliness—are forever burned into your memory, and most rape victims relive that moment every time they hear these words in the future. To top it off, when the victim is abandoned like old trash once she is done being used, the spirit is crushed beyond repair. This was the one time that I was truly grateful that I had developed the ability to ‘go away’ and disassociate myself. I felt nothing except the void of emotion as he spit on me, called me a waste of human flesh, and walked out of my life forever.

  The tide started to rise when I finally picked myself up and absently stumbled across the base, through the town, and back home. Everything was a blur, and my world felt as though it had imploded on me. The only thing I could think of was how I could protect Ray. What happened to me didn’t matter because I didn’t matter. Les was just one more person who proved that to me.

  It was well after dawn when I got home, and Ray was frantic. He took one look at my disarrayed appearance and fury filled his eyes.

  “Where the hell have you been all night? I was worried sick. Did you get drunk?” he demanded, shaking me by the shoulder.

  “I left you a note that I went to dinner with Les. And no, I didn’t get drunk. I only had one Mai Tai.” My voice was flat. I was numb, lifeless, and devoid of emotions.

  “Where is he?”

  “He had a plane to catch.” I pushed away from him and started towards my quarters. He followed me and frowned as I started to pack my things.

  “What happened? Where are you going?”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea anymore, Ray. You’re putting your career at risk because of me.”

  “Did somebody say something? Talk to me.”

  “I’m watching out for you, now,” I said, looking up at him and swallowing back the tears. Life with him had made me happy and had given me a sense of value and worth, but the truth was that this life was temporary. It was an escape from the real world that waited back in the States where rules and regulations were more important than people—a world where politics, greed, power, and money ruled over integrity and ethics. A little gossip in the barracks here was nothing like what evil people could do to others back in the States without so much as blinking an eye.

  “I need to start thinking about my future. You’re going to be transferred in the next eight months and then what? I’m stuck here for another three months without your protection.”

  “Sweetheart, talk to me. What happened?”

  “I don’t want to discuss it. I need to move back into the barracks and assimilate myself with the rest of the enlisted. There is too much talk, and I can’t afford to hurt you, especially after everything you’ve done for me.”

  His face fell. “Are you positive about this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want a transfer down to admin?”

  I shuddered. I hated the people down there, especially the NCO who ran the offices. He was rude, obnoxious, and always made sexist remarks that made me feel as filthy as what Les’ touch had done. I tried to push the thoughts of what happened from my mind.

  “Not until I have to. After you leave, I doubt the new commander will keep a female PA. I need to start pulling duty at the barracks, though. It’s only once a month.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  I went silent. I know my decisions hurt him, but I couldn’t risk telling him the truth. To start, Ray would have gone after Les, and then everything would be exposed and my commander's career would be ruined. Even if Ray was protected and I exposed what had happened, it would result in being Les’ word against mine. In a man's world, no one had a reason to believe me. My thoughts shifted to the consideration that perhaps Les was right and I had somehow invited the rape without knowing it.

  Did it really matter? I’d been through much worse in my life and survived. The only difference between the rapes of the past and the one of that night was that they hadn’t cost me someone that I loved. His warm voice startled me as he asked,

  “Would you be more comfortable talking to Jean?”

  I could see the struggle in his face. “No. You would be the one and only person I could ever talk to if it were something important. Please believe that this is as hard for me as it is for you, but it’s necessary. I don’t have a choice.”

  “Can I drive you to base?”

  “That would be nice. Thank you.” I didn’t mean for my voice to sound so cold, but all joy had been sucked from my body. I was losing my Daddy because of a selfish, self-serving little punk who wanted to make sure that I would be as miserable as he was.

  “You know I will do anything to help you,” Ray mentioned quietly.

  “I know you would, but this situation is becoming too dangerous for you. I wouldn’t mind a discreet mix up of orders that ships Les off to Anchorage for being such an asshole these last few months.”

  “Hmm ... Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Daddy?”

  The tears welled in my eyes. “Ray, you have given me more love and attention in one year than I ever received from my biological parents. You taught me about myself, my strengths, and how not to be so afraid of my weaknesses. You taught me that there are some people in this world that are worth my trust. I also learned that for every person I could trust, there are much more that I can’t.”

  “You trust me, right?”

  “I will always trust you. But you have to trust me as well. Please, just let it go. Without Les, we can’t go on our trips because we won’t have a third party and people will have more reason to talk. Please try to understand.”

  “You’ll always be my little girl, no matter what you say.” He turned the car into the barracks parking lot. “I’m always here for you. Just call.”

  “You will always be my daddy, and I’ll keep everything that you’ve given me tucked right here forever. Thank you.”

  ***

  My life was colorless after that day. To stop the rumors and gossip about Ray and me, I immediately started dating, and eventually marrying, this guy who was superficially sweet, shy and dumb as a rock. Ray despised him and never hesitated to inform me about how I deserved better. I didn’t dare tell him that the man was a mirror image of my biological father—abusive, misogynistic, and an alcoholic. I put on a happy face every morning when I presented to work, reassuring him that married life was wonderful, and I couldn’t be more pleased.

  He knew me better. He started finding chores for me to do that made me work after hours or come in early, anything that kept me from having to spend any unnecessary time with my new husband. His plan worked for a while. I would go home to find the man passed out on the futon in a drunken stupor and made certain that I left before he woke up. Weekends were not quite as easy to escape him, but still, I said nothing. This was my bed, and I had to lay in it. Literally.

  As promised, Ray was there for me, whether or not I asked for him. Shortly after we were married, my husband forced himself on me in a drunken stupor, didn’t use protect
ion, and I got pregnant. I was about six weeks along when I told him that I was expecting, and he punched me so hard that I was sent to the ground and unable to breathe. Afraid that he had ruptured my diaphragm, I dragged myself to the Japanese couple who lived next door and asked for help. I was taken to the hospital by ambulance, and when I arrived, Ray was already waiting for me. He stayed by my side, holding my hand, and begged me to press assault charges. I refused and denied that anything had happened and that I had fallen down the stairs. I was too afraid of the consequences of reporting my husband, especially if he ended up being set free.

  I lost the baby a week later, and it was Ray who stayed with me during the D&C and took me home with him afterward. He stayed with me during the majority of the week, which made me miss Daddy more than ever. But, as much as he told me not to return to my husband, I did. There was no way I could risk people assuming that I left my husband for the general. After all, if there is nothing real to gossip about, you can always depend on people to make up something, right?

  The day that Ray’s orders arrived marked the end of the chapter of my life with him. With him gone, I would lose the love and support of the only person I could trust. I also would lose the only father figure I had ever known. He called me into his office and asked me to close the door.

  “I’m going to Quantico.”

  “I know. It will be good for your career,” I said, trying my hardest not to let the tears show. “We knew this day would come.”

  “I want you to come with me. The Sergeant Major said he could get you orders to work Intell there. It wouldn’t be with me, but you’d be away from that asshole. Jean is nearby too, so you’ll have her to lean on.”

  “You’re both officers, and the States are big against fraternization. As for that asshole, please remember that he’s my husband now.”

  “Sweetheart, listen to me. How long will it be before he seriously harms you? Don’t think I haven’t been keeping an eye on his activities. Every night he goes to the E-club, drinks himself stupid, and stumbles home where half the time he barely makes it to the front porch. I don’t even know how he manages to show up to work the next day.”