Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

by Aleatha Romig

  “Is that how you greet me in the mornings?” Sam affected a stern tone. He was pleased to see her sink quickly to her knees. She knelt back on her haunches and spread her legs as she lifted her arms and locked her fingers behind her neck. Such a beauty; he never tired of looking at her. She was staring off into the middle distance, her face closed off and inscrutable, though she couldn’t hide the faint blush that had crept over her chest and cheeks as it did every morning when he forced her to expose herself like this for his pleasure.

  “Better,” he said, extending his hand. “Now follow me. I have a job for you.”

  *

  Rae followed Sam uncertainly up the basement steps. She would have liked to stay in bed, but at the same time she was excited at the prospect of going upstairs. He’d said he had a job for her. Was he talking business? Why take her upstairs for that? Every other time he’d consulted with her on some business-related issue, he’d brought it down to her.

  She followed him along a hall to a door that he pushed open, revealing a large, sunny room that, like his office downtown, had three computers and lots of clutter. There was a landline telephone. She could grab it and dial 911! They’d come no matter what—she wouldn’t even have to say a word.

  Even as this scenario played itself out, she rejected it. If she did that, even if kidnapping charges stuck, he’d still have the evidence of her embezzlement, and then he’d be sure to file charges against her.

  No, it was better to do the time. Nearly a week had passed already, and so far she’d survived reasonably intact. She touched her ass as she thought this, feeling the welted, abraded skin. Every day he whipped, cropped, flogged or spanked her, marking her in some fashion. Sometimes when he’d left her for the night, even though she knew he might be watching, she would stand in front of the mirror he kept near the cabinet, and crane back to see the damage he’d done that day.

  She was both horrified and transfixed by the marks she saw—stripes of red and pink, some faded to white or flowered into little purple bruises. I took that, she found herself thinking with a curious kind of pride. I endured that whipping, I handled that beating. I am strong. I can take whatever he gives me.

  Odder still was her physical reaction when she stared at the welts and bruises. Her pussy would moisten and swell and her nipples tingled with the remembered touch of his fingers and mouth. Perhaps because so often the pain of a punishment was mixed with the pleasure of sexual release. He would let her come, or force her to come, after or even during a beating. The sensations of stinging pain and burning pleasure had somehow fused in her brain, the memory of one eliciting the memory of the other in a tangle of fear and desire.

  Sam sat down at his desk and swiveled his monitor toward her. “I was watching one of my favorite videos. It’s giving me some nice ideas for you, slave girl.” He pressed the play button. Rae stared at the screen. A tall, naked man with a shaved head stood in front of a young woman who was tied face down on a padded table. The man held the woman’s head in his large hands as he guided his sizable cock into her mouth.

  Rae stared, fascinated as the camera angle shifted, showing the woman from behind. The man had moved behind her and was pressing what looked like a large Plexiglas plug into the woman’s ass. It was attached to a long silver hook with a rope hanging from it. The plug slipped inside, leaving only the shiny hook showing. The man walked around the tethered woman, rope in hand, until he again stood in front of her, his cock waving in her face, the rope pulled taut in his big fist, straining at the silver hook.

  “Jesus,” Rae whispered, before she realized she was speaking. She clamped her mouth shut and glanced nervously at Sam, aware she’d spoken out of turn. But Sam just smiled at her, an evil glint in his eye.

  Rae watched as Sam lifted his hips and slid his shorts down his legs, kicking them aside. His cock sprang free, not quite fully erect, but definitely getting there. Rae felt a twinge in her pussy and her nipples perked, which confused her. She was supposed to hate this man. She told herself that a hundred times a day, but she couldn’t deny he was a gorgeous specimen of male beauty, his cock straight and thick, his thighs muscular. She could see the blond hairs glinting in the light like spun gold on his tan skin.

  He was pointing to the floor between his legs. “On your knees. I want you to suck my cock while I watch the rest of the movie.” The video continued to play on the screen. The man was slapping the woman in the face, over and over, while she breathlessly begged him to do it again, and again! He still held the rope that was attached to the silver hook. Didn’t that hurt? She was staying very still, but who wouldn’t with that thing stuck up their ass?

  Sam startled Rae by jerking her hair hard, forcing her to look away from the video. “Focus on my cock, not the screen. Don’t stop until you make me come. And make sure you swallow every drop or I’ll have you lick it up.”

  Swallowing nervously, Rae reached for Sam’s cock, smelling his musky heat as she lowered her lips tentatively over the head. He was big, larger than she was used to, and she hoped she’d be able to satisfy him. She’d never had trouble pleasing a man in this way before, but she’d never been that man’s personal sex slave either. She knew she’d better do a good job, or she’d definitely pay a price for it.

  She reached for his balls, cupping them gently in one hand while she curled the fingers of her other hand around the base of his shaft. He spread his legs farther apart and shifted slightly in the chair, angling his hips forward.

  She licked and sucked at the top half of his cock for a while, using her hands to provide stimulation lower down. “Take it farther,” she heard him say from above. Rae could hear the woman on the video, her gasps and cries punctuated by the smacking sound of leather against skin. It was oddly discomfiting to realize Sam was focused not on her, but on the porn video on his monitor.

  She felt almost incidental, just a tool to get him off, an object not that different from the vibrating wand he used on her. She told herself she should be glad. It was better not to be the focus of his sadistic intentions. Just do what he wants and get it over with, she told herself. Then you can have a shower and breakfast.

  She moved her hand up the rigid shaft, meeting it with her lips over the fat crown of his cock. “Hands behind your back,” she heard him say. “Take it all the way.” She felt Sam’s hand, heavy on the back of her head, pressing her forward onto his shaft.

  Reluctantly, she took her hands away. He kept his hand on her head, his cock moving deeper into her mouth and past her soft palette, not stopping until the tip was lodged far back in her throat. He’d moved slowly enough so as not to gag her, but he held her there for several long seconds.

  She couldn’t get a breath, not the way his cock was blocking her windpipe. She tried to pull back but he held her fast. She felt a wave of panic rolling from her gut. She tried to empty her mind and relax her body.

  He won’t let you suffocate. You can trust him.

  All at once she relaxed. What a startling thing to realize. She did trust him. She trusted Sam Ryker, the man who was holding her prisoner in his dungeon, the man who had basically raped her the first day, and done all sorts of horrible things to her ever since. She trusted him? Was she losing her mind?

  She realized the pressure on the back of her head had eased and she slid back, sucking in oxygen as her lips glided along the smooth, warm skin of his cock. He groaned. “Yeah. That’s it, babe. Show me what you can do.” She lowered her head again, taking his full length, farther than she would have gone on her own, if he hadn’t showed her just now that she could do it.

  She moved back and forth, lifting herself slightly over him so she could take him deep into her throat again, and again, until he began to moan in a steady murmuring rhythm. “Yeah, yeah, oooooh, yeah, baby. Do it.”

  All at once she felt his fingers digging sharply into her shoulders as his body stiffened and arched forward. He thrust his shaft down her throat, nearly gagging her, but she managed to keep her muscles rel
axed enough to receive him as he jerked against her. His fingers were gripping her hard, holding her fast as he ejaculated in several spasms.

  The come shot past her tongue, sliding down her throat so that she didn’t even need to swallow. He held himself that way for several moments, though he eased his grip on her shoulders. Finally he sagged back in his chair. Rae glanced up at him. Sam’s eyes were closed, his lips parted. He had a blissful look on his face that almost made her smile. If he’d been her lover, not her jailer, she would have reached up and put her arms around his waist and kissed him.

  Instead she leaned back on her heels and dared a glance at the screen. The couple was now dressed in identical black bathrobes, cuddling on a sofa while they discussed the scene they’d just enacted. Of course, it was just a scene, a show put on for the benefit of paying viewers.

  “That was good,” Sam announced from above her. “Stand up. I want to take your temperature.”

  Rae felt her face heating. She hated when he did that. He always pretended she was hot for him, even when she’d wanted to spit in his face. But she stood just the same, aware it would be worse for her if she disobeyed.

  “Lean back against the desk,” he instructed. “Brace yourself with your hands and spread your legs. Show me my cunt.” He pushed a stack of papers from the cluttered desk and pointed to the cleared area. Reluctantly, Rae did as she was told. Though he regularly examined her pussy, she still hadn’t gotten used to his scrutiny.

  He licked his third finger and inserted it gently into her. He smiled that shit-eating grin of his. “Exactly as I thought. You’re soaking wet, though whether it’s from watching that guy on the video whip that girl, or from sucking my cock, it’s hard to say.”

  The phone rang, making Rae jump. They both turned toward it, letting it ring a second and third time. “I might as well get it,” Sam said, his mouth curling into an evil smile. “Your job is to stay quiet, got it? You make a peep and you’ll pay, I promise.”

  His finger still buried in her pussy, he reached with his other hand for the receiver. “Sam Ryker.”

  He listened a while and then began to speak in technical jargon about some piece of programming code as he casually fingered her. He stood, moving to stand beside her as he pressed his finger deeper, crooking it in such a way until he found that hot, sweet spot.

  She bit her lower lip to keep from making a sound and squeezed her eyes shut. No one had ever touched her the way he did. No one had ever been able to wrest such powerful reactions from her, even when she did her best to resist. Stealing a glance at Sam’s face, she tried to squirm away slightly without being too obvious, but a stern look from Sam stopped her.

  He continued to work his terrible, wonderful magic until, despite her best intentions, a long, low moan slipped from between Rae’s lips. She began to buck and shake, unable to control the climax he was pulling from her. What did she do? Did she pull away? Did she ask permission while he was on the phone, though he’d told her to stay quiet?

  “Oh god,” she whispered, “please…may I…”

  “Hold on a moment, will you, Jack?”

  Sam put his hand over the receiver and turned toward Rae, his hand still cupping her sex, his fingers still moving inside her. “You are a very naughty girl,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I told you to stay still and quiet, and here you are trembling and moaning. Jack might hear you! What should I tell him is going on?”

  “Sam! Sir, I’m sorry! I can’t help it, oh!”

  He continued his relentless fingering as she gasped helplessly. It was too late. She couldn’t stop the tide of this orgasm if her life depended on it. She opened her mouth, trying to form the words to ask for permission, but only managing a guttural grunt as she hurled headlong into a crashing wave of pure sensation.

  She sat up slowly, Sam’s papers scattered at her feet, her heart still thumping. She must have passed out for a second or two and it took her a moment to orient herself. Sam still had the phone to his ear, though he’d resumed his seat. “You too, buddy. Give me a call if it happens again.”

  He cradled the receiver and looked up at her, raising his eyebrows. “I’d say a punishment is in order, wouldn’t you?”

  Rae sighed. What could she say?

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  Rae barely tasted the waffles with strawberries Sam fed her that morning after her grooming and shower. She was waiting nervously to find out what her punishment would entail. She’d come to learn the difference between punishments and training. The trainings could still be brutal and painful, but the focus was more on the sexual pleasure he would pull from her while also subjecting her to various painful distractions. She might be sexually teased or tortured during a punishment, but she was never allowed to come. The punishment was about the suffering.

  While Rae sipped at her coffee, Sam left her on the bed and returned with a long thin rod of about eighteen inches with a brown suede handle at one end. He whipped it in the air and let it land against the bed near her leg with a thwack. Rae jumped, startled and frightened by the sound.

  “This is a cane. Have you ever been caned, Rae?”

  Stupid question. But a direct one, so she answered docilely, “No, Sir.”

  Sam ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the cane. “I should cane your cunt, since that’s what you can’t seem to control.” Instinctively Rae crossed her legs and wrapped her arms around her torso. Sam went on, “But since you’ve never been caned, we’ll start with your ass.” He pointed to the floor. “Kneel beside the bed and lean over it, hands over your head on the mattress. I’ll give you five good strokes on each side, and one on each breast for good measure. Then for training, we’ll work on orgasm control, a skill in which you are sorely lacking.”

  Rae barely processed what he was saying, having homed in on the words, five good strokes on each side…one on each breast. Was he serious! She’d seen a horrible news story once about a man who’d been caned as punishment for his crime in Singapore. They’d showed pictures of his back after the caning—long, cruel stripes dripping with blood!

  She felt herself growing dizzy and the food she’d just eaten sat like a stone in her belly. She looked up at Sam with pleading in her eyes. “I can’t…” she whispered. “Blood…”

  She had forgotten to ask for permission to speak. She tried to swallow but it felt like there were bits of glass in her throat. She blew out a shuddery breath. Sam sat on the bed beside her. Instead of yelling at her for speaking out of turn, he said, “Make no mistake, this will be a punishment you won’t soon forget.” He put his hand on her thigh, his voice gentler. “I’ll mark you, but I won’t break the skin. That’s dangerous with a cane and could lead to infection and scarring.”

  Before Rae could even register her relief, he stood, suddenly unsheathing a sharp glance and turning it on her full force. He pointed to the ground. “Get into position. Now.”

  Rae scrambled off the bed and knelt. “That’s it,” Sam said. “Lean over on the mattress and lift your body up so your ass is on the edge of the bed, feet still on the ground.” Rae did as instructed, her toes barely touching the carpet, her ass exposed for the cane. When she felt it moving over her skin, she flinched and jerked with fearful anticipation.

  He began easily at first, lightly tapping the skin with the flat of the cane, creating a tingling in her flesh. She knew this was just warm up, and she remained tense with anticipation. “Breathe,” he said from above her. “In and out, take it easy. You know it hurts worse if you clench your muscles. You can make it hard, or you can give in to what’s going to happen anyway. You need to learn to flow with the pain, Rae. Stop fighting it at every turn.”

  Knowing he was right, Rae tried to do as he said, breathing in slowly and then exhaling just as slowly, in and out, in and out…

  The first real blow whistled in the air, landing with a crack on her left cheek. Rae squealed and gripped the sheets tight in her fingers. “Good,” Sam said. “Just a few day
s ago and you’d have been trying to cover yourself. You are making good progress, slave girl, in learning to accept the punishments you earn.”

  The second blow sliced across her other cheek, leaving a line of searing fire in its wake. “Fuck!” Rae screamed, the word wrenched from her without her being able to stop it.

  The third blow caught both cheeks at once, low down where her thighs met her ass and Rae yelped, her nerve endings screaming. She felt sweat breaking out over her body and she was twisting the sheets in fingers cramping from her fierce grip. The cane rained fire down on her skin as she cried out, flinched and jerked but somehow managed to stay in position.

  “Now for your breasts,” Sam said, lightly tapping her shoulder with the tip of the cane. “Kneel up and offer them. Cup them in your hands and offer them for the cane.”

  Knowing she had no choice, Rae forced herself upright and off the bed. She turned and knelt in position, lightly resting her stinging ass cheeks against her heels. Her hands were trembling as she lifted her breasts. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her head away, biting her lip so hard she nearly drew blood.

  “Rae. Face me. Open your eyes. You are to watch the cane. One on each breast. If you look away, I’ll start over, do you understand?”

  Rae forced herself to face Sam and she opened her eyes, though her lips remained compressed with fear. Sam moved to the side a little and lifted the cane. It came down on her right breast first and she watched in horrified fascination as a line appeared, first white and then turning rapidly to crimson red.

  “Oh!” she gasped. Before she could react, the cane came down again, this time on her left breast, drawing a second line of white that morphed into red, the skin rising in a ridge of angry protest. Rae felt sweat breaking out on her upper lip. There was an unpleasant ringing in her ears, and her vision seemed to be narrowing into a tunnel of white. She dropped her breasts and let her head fall heavily forward.