by Julia Sykes
“You’re wrong. I’m not.” My voice held an edge of desperate denial.
His expression hardened. “I will not punish you for your lie this time. But you must be completely honest with me from now on. That’s what BDSM is about: honesty, trust. Bondage and Discipline; Domination and Submission; Sadism and Masochism. This is what we will share. I want your devotion. I want your consent.”
“It’s not consent if I’m coerced into agreeing,” I pointed out bitterly.
He shrugged. “You love me. You enjoy what I do to your body. I am simply helping you accept who you are. That is what a good Master does.”
Master. Slave. How had it come to this?
My mind rebelled, but one glance at the fallen bullwhip silenced my budding defiance.
I dropped my eyes.
“What are my safe words?” The question sealed my fate. I surrendered. I was too much of a coward to resist any longer. Surely this was better than being broken through torture. Maybe I had some hope of maintaining my sanity if I played along. My mind might still be intact whenever rescue came for me.
I will get out of this. It’s not forever. I had to believe that.
“You make me very happy, myshka,” he rumbled. “I have researched how you Americans do this. It is customary in your culture to say ‘red’ if you want the pain to stop. Use ‘yellow’ if you need a break, and we will talk about your concerns. If you are all right, you will tell me you are ‘green.’ Like a traffic light. This is how we build trust.”
I nodded mechanically, as though that made perfect sense. He touched the soft whip to my cheek.
“Very good. We will begin with this deerskin flogger. I will be gentle with you, and we will work our way up until we find your pain threshold.”
Terror surged. Darkness flickered across my vision and my knees gave way. All my weight fell on my wrists, jerking my attention back to my surroundings. There would be no blissful release in unconsciousness this time. I wouldn’t pass out and wake up in Dimitri’s arms on the lush canopied bed.
His hands closed around my waist, supporting me until I found my way onto my tiptoes again. When he was satisfied that I wouldn’t faint, he pressed a quick kiss to my forehead and then stepped away, positioning himself behind me.
With him out of my line of sight, my other senses went on high alert. My every nerve ending crackled in perverse anticipation, and the sound of the flogger whooshing through the air echoed in my ears for what seemed like an eternity before the first blow landed.
The soft falls hit my bottom with a heavy thud. I gasped on impact, a reflexive reaction to an utterly foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but it was certainly more forceful than the caress of Dimitri’s large hands. A twin hit landed on my other cheek, and my fear deflated into visceral relief. I had been terrified of the pain of the whip, but didn’t really hurt. A mad giggle burst from my lips as giddiness flooded my system.
Encouraged by my deranged reaction, Dimitri increased the force of the next swing. It thrummed through my flesh, and warmth seeped into me. As he continued, the warmth built to heat. It spread from the surface of my skin to my core. The heat heightened to a dull burning sensation. My sex throbbed in response.
It was starting to hurt, but I liked it. Dimitri had been right. I was a masochist. There was no other explanation for how my body responded to being whipped.
“Remember your safe words,” his voice penetrated my budding turmoil. “Tell me where you are now.”
The amusement in his tone told me what he desired. He wanted to force me to acknowledge that I was okay, that I liked this. He wanted me to admit I was green.
Shame and rage flared hotter than my abused flesh.
“Red,” I declared in a defiant hiss. “Stop.”
The wooden handle of the flogger instantly clattered against the tile floor, and seconds later the chain holding me up loosened. I barely found my balance before Dimitri was at my side. He removed the cuffs, but the gentle concern I expected him to show was utterly absent. Instead, his fingers fisted in my hair, and he began dragging me across the dungeon.
“What are you doing?” I asked shrilly.
“Trust, Alicia,” he snarled. “I will stop when you say ‘red.’ I have stopped. You can trust me to honor your safe words. But I must be able to trust that you will use them honestly.”
The cage came into view. I balked, but his grip on my hair made it impossible for me to fight him.
“I’m sorry,” I whined. “We can keep going. Please don’t put me in there.”
“You have to be punished,” he informed me coolly. “It’s how you will learn. It is my responsibility to teach you how to behave.”
He bent and opened the cage, tugging down on my hair until I was forced low enough to enter it. Then he gave me a merciless shove, and I tumbled inside, only barely managing to catch myself on my hands and knees. The door clanged shut behind me, and a padlock clicked into place.
I turned as quickly as possible in the cramped space, clutching at the bars and staring up at him with pleading eyes.
“Let me out. I’ll do what you want. I’ll be honest. I don’t like small spaces.”
He looked down at me, no compassion in his bearing. “Then this is an appropriate punishment.”
He turned and began walking away from me.
“Dimitri!” I cried out for him. “You can’t leave me here!”
Without a backward glance, he left the dungeon and closed the door behind him. I screamed out my fury and panic, but he didn’t return.
* * * * *
My throat was raw from screaming and my eyes were swollen from crying, but he didn’t come back to let me out. I hugged my knees to my chest and tried to ignore the suffocating closeness of the dark iron bars that surrounded me. I had no idea how long I had been trapped in the cage. It felt like days, but surely Dimitri wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t leave me to die in here.
He cares about me. He will let me out.
I just had to breathe and wait it out.
This will end. I’ll be free again soon.
Something akin to a laugh choked up my throat. Free? I would simply be moved from this tiny cell to my larger one.
And yet I longed to return to the opulent bedroom with the soft bed, bright sunlight, and Dimitri’s warmth. I hated him for doing this to me, but I couldn’t help yearning for his tenderness. The man who treated me like a pampered pet was far preferable to the cold one who punished me without mercy.
How could he do this to me? I had once thought he loved me. I now knew that was impossible; Dimitri wasn’t capable of love. He seemed fascinated by my love for him, as though it was a completely foreign concept.
“No woman has ever freely given me her love. I knew then that I couldn’t let you go.”
He wanted my affection, but he couldn’t understand that love had to be given freely. Any other form of emotional attachment that might be forged through his brutal treatment was a twisted, broken kind of devotion.
My love for him died in that cage. Under his more gentle treatment, it had lingered deep within me, but now that the extent of his ruthlessness was revealed, it was finally extinguished. That might have been a mercy, but it only left me feeling hollow and defeated. He broke my heart along with my will.
* * * * *
I had long forgotten my physical discomforts by the time he finally came for me. My muscles were cramped and my stomach ached with hunger, but my mind had returned to the void that provided sweet solace from my distressing reality. I no longer rationalized or reasoned or hoped. I barely existed.
Metal grated on metal when he opened the cage door, but I didn’t move. I remained curled up on my side, staying cocooned in my nothingness. No fear, no pain, no thought.
“Myshka?” Worry edged the endearment. Something tugged in my chest, but I quickly tamped it down.
“You can come out now.”
I remained immobile. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to th
ink.
“Come to me.” It was a stern order.
Blind obedience was easy. Ignoring the aching protest of my stiff muscles, I crawled out of the cage. Standing took effort, but I managed with his help. My eyes settled on a spot just below his chin.
His hand closed around my jaw, and he gently lifted my face. I stared at him without really seeing him.
He muttered a low curse, and his arms closed around me. He lifted me up and hugged me to his chest, tucking my face against his shoulder. The warmth of his body didn’t penetrate the cold that coated my skin.
I was only dimly aware that he carried me back into the nice room. He laid me down on the bed and slipped under the thick duvet with me, cuddling me close. His hands moved over my body, massaging away the soreness in my limbs. He murmured to me in a constant stream of Russian, his voice lilting in a cajoling cadence. I closed my eyes and fell into the sensation of his tender touch and the sound of his soothing voice. It was… nice. Pleasant.
I blew out a long breath, and the tension left my muscles.
“That’s it,” he said softly. “You’re all right. You are with me.”
He held me for a few minutes longer before he spoke again. “Do you understand why I had to punish you?”
I flinched, and he rubbed away the fresh goose bumps on my arms.
“You weren’t honest with me,” he answered for me. “You betrayed my trust.”
“I’m sorry,” I heard myself whisper.
He kissed the top of my head. “I forgive you. You will not lie to me again, will you?”
“No.” I didn’t want to go back in the cage. Now that I was back in the pretty bedroom, I couldn’t bear the thought of being locked up again.
He nodded, satisfied. Then he stood and pulled the covers off me so my naked body was fully revealed to him.
“We will try this again. Get on your hands and knees.”
I complied without hesitation. I had learned all too well that he would punish me if I didn’t behave. I had agreed to be his willing slave. It was that, or torture.
I chose obedience.
He disappeared into the dungeon, but I stayed in position. When he returned half a minute later, he was holding the deerskin flogger. He approached the bed and trailed the tips of the supple falls down my back.
“You enjoyed being flogged. Tell me you liked it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, as though I could hide from my shame. “Yes,” I breathed. “I liked it.”
“I can take you higher than you ever imagined possible. Trust me, and I will make you forget all your worries.”
My heart twisted. Forget. I wanted that. I wanted to forget my weakness, to forget everything I had lost. Everything Dimitri had taken from me.
I bowed my head in silent agreement.
The first harsh hit brought tears to my eyes. Not because I couldn’t stand the sudden flare of pain, but because the pain was a kind of sweet release. The physical manifestation of pain allowed me to unleash my emotional anguish on a sharp sob.
With each blow, my grief poured out of me. After a while, I was fully purged of all negative emotion. I was pure again. Perhaps more pure than I had ever been. The pain was cleansing, its relentless assault on my senses scouring away all thought. There was no room in me for embarrassment or self-loathing. There was only the sting on my skin, the burn that penetrated deeper into my flesh.
My cries softened, and I began drawing in deep, even breaths as I relaxed into blissful nothingness. It wasn’t the same as the silent void. The void was a frigid black hole. This transcendent state was a warm embrace.
The steady rhythm of the flogger stopped, and the mattress shifted as Dimitri climbed onto the bed and positioned himself behind me. I watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, floating in my surreal world. Everything was hazy except for his hard body and his keen black eyes. He fisted his cock and stroked, coating it with lubricant. My sex was already wet enough to accommodate him, but that wasn’t his intent. He pressed himself against my tight hole. He had never taken me there before. The taboo nature of the act teased at the corners of my mind.
Wrong. Sinful.
I clenched.
His hand cracked across my reddened, abused flesh in reprimand.
“You can take me. I have trained you for this. Relax.”
I had no choice but to comply. The harsh line of his clenched jaw let me know he would penetrate me regardless of whether or not my body put up a fight.
His fingers dug into my hips, and he pushed forward slowly. I took a deep breath and relaxed on the exhale. My tight ring of muscles burned as he stretched me. Even though I had become accustomed to the plug, this felt different. The tip of the plug was narrow, allowing me time to adjust as it widened. Dimitri’s cock was thick and hard, but my body surrendered to his relentless advance.
Finally, his head fully breached me, and the pain abated slightly. He paused, giving me a few seconds to become accustomed to the intrusion. He pressed forward, his length sliding deeper into me. The burning inside me turned to a shower of white-hot sparks that danced through me, crackling up my spine and sending starbursts shooting across my vision.
My back arched, and he slid all the way into me with a low growl. He pulled back out an inch and gently rocked back in. I cried out in mindless ecstasy at this new, forbidden form of pleasure.
He pumped in and out in a gradually increasing rhythm, until he pulled almost all the way out of me and slammed back in. His grip on my hips held me in place so he could fuck me hard. I began pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts with wanton eagerness.
He ground out something in Russian, and I recognized the words for beautiful and perfect. It added a layer of sweetness to his carnal assault that brought on my release.
When my inner muscles began to flutter around him, he reached around me and pinched my clit. I exploded with a scream.
His fingers twined in my hair, pulling my body back against his as the heat of his orgasm lashed into me. I writhed with ecstasy, but his firm hold kept me trapped in place while he rode out the last of his pleasure with a rough shout.
He had defiled me, and I reveled in every second of it.
Chapter 12
Numb. It was the only appropriate word for my state of mind.
My body was another matter entirely. My bruised bottom throbbed every time I shifted on Dimitri’s lap, and the ache deeper inside me served as a reminder of the forbidden things he had done to me the day before.
But I couldn’t think about that. Instead, I focused on eating the food he raised to my lips, obediently taking everything he offered me.
Obedience. I had no free will. Dimitri said serving him was a choice, but choosing between one form of torment or harsher torture was no choice at all. Not really.
He set the fork down on the empty breakfast plate with a sigh.
“I know you’re upset. It will pass. You must trust me.” I was shocked to realize that the last held a hint of pleading.
I didn’t have an answer for him. What was I supposed to say? “It’s okay”? “I’m fine”?
I wasn’t allowed to lie to him, so I opted to say nothing. I worried any truthful response might result in punishment. The memory of my confinement in the cage flashed across my mind, and I shuddered.
He held me closer and kissed my cheek. The sweet gesture only made my stomach knot tighter. I didn’t understand how he could treat me with such tender care and also use me ruthlessly.
“I don’t want to leave you like this, but I need to take care of some business. My father will be angry if I don’t help him.”
His father. No, I didn’t want to anger him. I knew he was the cause of Dimitri’s cruelty. I remembered how Dimitri had stormed into the bedroom, how his fingers had dug into my arm at the mention of his father. I didn’t want to face that again. I pursed my lips, keeping my silence.
“We will talk when I return.” It was an order. I nodded unthinkingly.
He lifted m
e and set me on my feet. “Take a shower. I’ll be back soon.”
He brushed a kiss across my lips and left me standing there, immobile. I remained like that for a long time, my body refusing to move. It was the first time Dimitri hadn’t taken a shower with me. Doing so alone – at his instruction – smacked of defeat. He wasn’t there to force me, but I had to comply with his command. It was a test, to see if I would behave.
I walked to the opulent bathroom on wooden legs. I tried not to think about my shameful surrender as I turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray.
My eyes fell on the razor. Dimitri would want me to shave. Another form of humiliation, another defeat.
I lifted it, the silvery blades glinting under the bright overhead lights. The pad of my thumb traced over them, and a small pain sliced across my finger as a drop of red blood welled up. It quickly mingled with the water and diluted to a pink stream. I watched it slide down my palm with fascination.
The razor could inflict pain. I was holding a weapon. If I could just break the plastic casing and remove the blades, I would have a means of defending myself.
An image of slicing through Dimitri’s cruelly perfect face filled my mind. I flinched. Not because I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him, but because I could also see his cold, disappointed expression as he ripped the puny blade from my fingers and dragged me into the dungeon. I remembered how I hadn’t even managed to nick his skin with the knife, how easily he had stopped me. And the punishment of the hook and the relentless vibrations against my clit were burned into my brain.
Despair welled, and my attention turned to my wrists. The razor could cut my flesh more easily than his. I could run the edge of the blade down my veins and let my life seep out of me. I could escape him.
No. I couldn’t do that. My parents would be devastated if I died. I thought of their grief-stricken faces, and tears sprang to my own eyes. I knew they believed I was alive. They would be looking for me even now. My parents loved me, and they wouldn’t give up. There was still hope that they might find me. I just had to survive until they did.
