by Dani René
“So fucking good,” he calls out.
I respond, “Harder.”
I need more of him, deeper. I need him so deep he’ll never leave me.
Iuan flips me over again, this time onto all fours, and his balls slam against my clit as he thrusts back into me.
“Take it, Marbh. Take everything I have to give you. You’re mine.”
He lands a bruising smack on my already sore backside with his large hand, and I scream out in pain. It hurts so fucking much, but I need this. I need it all. Again and again, he does the same, his hand creating other marks to match the signature. The pain is severe, and I feel the darkness of my limits flooding the edges of my senses.
“More,” I scream, and Iuan buries himself deep inside me once again.
I feel him start to come, and as he does, he wraps his hands around my neck and squeezes tight. I lose control. The warmth of his cum inside me and his hands preventing me from getting air into my lungs sets of my orgasm. I jerk and shudder underneath him, the bliss so intense I slip in and out of consciousness as my body struggles to cope with all the overwhelming sensations.
Eventually we both still. I collapse back onto the bed, and Iuan slips out of me. He can’t hold himself up any longer and joins me in the tangled sheets smeared with my blood and our mixed essences.
“My perfect mate,” he breathlessly mutters in his post orgasmic haze.
“As you are mine,” I barely manage to respond—I’m still in the realm between awake and unconscious.
“Good, because I have another job for you, and when you return victorious, the prize will be even greater.”
Chapter 4
Present
“You’re a complete dick,” I inform Dr. Miller as I prowl past him into the kitchen. It’s been a week since I was sedated, and I’m still pissed off at him for ruining my fun. I was only doing as he asked and informing the ‘circle’ what my name meant. It’s not my fault that I’m more of a shower than a teller.
“Language, Marbh. I wouldn’t want to have to sedate you again.”
“You’d love it. That’s when you’re able to get your kicks.” I shuffle my legs together. “Yeah, it still feels a bit sore down there. You know, I’d have let you fuck me whilst I was awake if only you’d asked.”
“No, thank you. I’m happily married and don’t need your services.”
I laugh, and the evil cackle fills the corridor. A few of the other patients stop and look before scurrying off to hide.
“Poor Mrs. Miller. I bet she’s never had an orgasm in her life…what with you having a small dick and all.”
“Yet, your supposedly sore from me fucking you while unconscious.”
“I never said you used your dick. No, I see you more as a dildo man, or maybe the hilt of a knife—that would be better. Iuan did that to me once. It was perfect. I bled everywhere he was so rough. Hmm,” I purr. “Now that’s a memory I’ll use tonight when I’m pleasuring myself, seeing as how you’re keeping me from the real man.”
“I think we’ll end this conversation now, Marbh. I have work to do, and you’re expected in the kitchen.”
I huff. Servants work again.
“Goodbye, Dr. Miller. See you soon, hopefully dead.”
I continue my way down the corridor, barging a couple of the other patients out of the way when they refuse to move. I’m not exactly sociable. The place is full of freaks, and I shouldn’t even be in here. I’m waiting for Iuan to come for me. Something is keeping him at the moment, but I know he’ll be here soon. We were married on the same day I was taken. He’ll want to put his heir inside me as soon as he can.
Shoving the kitchen door open, I wait to be given my task. I’m not allowed near knives, or hot water, or ovens, or hobs. Seriously, why do they even let me in here?
“Marbh, it’s good to see you again. I need some pastry made. I’ve put all the right amount of ingredients in the bowls. You just need to mix it all up and then roll it out,” the cook informs me.
She’s a sweet old lady, and one of the few people in this place I like. She reminds me of the cook in Iuan’s castle. I liked her as well. She’d make me the special dishes I requested. I had a thing for red meat, and she was always happy to oblige.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes at the mundane task I’ve been assigned.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a couple of the other patients, classified as less of a danger to themselves and others, using knives to cut vegetables. Each is closely watched by an orderly, though. Shuffling over to my designated side of the kitchen, I see the bowls and the hollowed-out, plastic rolling pin I’m expected to use to make the pastry. I’m not even allowed a solid wooden rolling pin! Boring.
I start my task, hoping to get it done and back to my room as soon as possible. I’m not in the mood for socializing. If I can lose myself in thoughts of Iuan, maybe it’ll help him find me. I’ve tried summoning his witch, but it didn’t work.
This world I’ve been brought to is completely alien to me, and I just want to return to the castle. The lights on the walls scared me the most when I first arrived here. They weren’t candles but bulbs, or so I was told. I’ve never seen anything like them before. I’m not sure where I’ve been brought to, but I do know I don’t want to stay.
I’m nearly finished with the pastry, making sure to spit in it along the way, when from the other side of the kitchen comes a commotion. Everyone floods over there, including the orderly who’s been watching me. He’s there to make sure I don’t hurt myself with the hollowed-out, plastic rolling pin…yeah right.
Poking my head around the corner, I see one of the other patients has gone berserk, and they’re trying to placate her. A doctor rushes in with a needle. At least for once, it won’t be me getting sedated. I’m about to return to my pastry when I notice something glittering. A knife left abandoned with nobody watching it. Looking around, I see everyone’s focus is on the patient screaming and shouting about dragons attacking her. Stupid bitch, everyone knows they died out in the early eleven hundreds. I reach across and slide the knife from the kitchen worktop up into my sleeve. I can’t believe I haven’t been spotted. Quietly, using the stealth I was taught by Iuan’s father and his guards, I slip from the kitchen unnoticed and make my way through the corridors, keeping to the shadows, and head to Dr. Miller’s office. This is my chance for revenge. I’m going to destroy him, then escape this place and go back to Iuan forever.
My breath is quick. I have to remember my training—stay calm and not give anything away, but it’s hard with the excitement coursing through my veins. The doctor’s room is open, and I step in and shut the door behind me. He’s on a phone call but looks up and sighs when he sees me.
“I see. I’ll deal with it. Thank you. Marbh, what can I do for you? I’m rather busy at the moment. Apparently there is an issue in the kitchen which needs my assistance.”
“I know. I came to find you.” I put my distressed voice on. “I’m so scared. They were screaming and shouting, and I didn’t know what to do. I just ran here as fast as I could.”
Dr. Miller gets to his feet, and I dare to go nearer to him. I can feel the excitement of a kill starting to hum in my blood.
“Come and sit down. I understand the other patient was shouting about dragons. I know hearing about such creatures reminds you of your past. It must’ve been very scary for you.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I’m sorry to be a pain.”
I take my game forward with feminine waterworks, showing him a timid scared woman—the kind all men want.
“You’re not a pain. Please don’t worry.”
Dr. Miller comes around his carved oak desk while I take a seat on the soft leather chair opposite. He places his hand on my shoulder. He’s close enough now. I can feel it. The urge to kill, growing stronger within me. Turning around slowly, I allow the knife to drop into my hand, readying myself to stand and thrust the weapon into his heart. I don’t get a chance, though. The needle is in my neck
before I know it.
“Did you really believe no one would notice you stealing a knife from the kitchen, Marbh? You’re constantly watched everywhere you go. The deranged fantasy world you live in makes it essential. You’re suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Think, Marbh. Remember your past. Allow it to come back into your mind and show you the way forward. It’s the only way you’ll ever get out of here.”
The knife drops from my hand as my ability to control anything dissipates. My eyes feel heavy, and my body slows. I’ve been sedated once again. My mission to be reunited with Iuan is a failure.
“I love you, Iuan. I will be with you again soon,” I whisper before the darkness claims me.
Chapter 5
1500s Scotland
“Is that the best you’ve got?”
I blow out my cheeks with the boredom I’m feeling. These men need a lesson in torture because they are seriously lacking the required skills.
I’ve been betrayed. I don’t know by whom, but when I find out, blood will flow. I nearly had the latest mark Iuan wanted me to take out, but I was captured at the last minute and have been brought to the dungeon of his castle. I’m tied to a table, my hands and legs chained to it. My ornate silk dress has been removed, and I’m in only my linen slip.
“I’m sorry we’re boring you. We’ll try harder.” The overweight and pallid dungeon master clips the spotty young boy, who’s been torturing me so far, around the ears. The skin on my arm is burned, and I’ve got a couple of cuts to my face, but they’re not going to get any information out of me with those kind of wounds. The signature healing on my bottom hurts more. “Try a lot harder, lad.”
“Will do, sir.”
The boy takes a pair of metal forceps from where they’ve been heating in the fire and brings them to my fingers. Now this is about to get interesting. He grips the end of the nail on the middle finger of my left hand and pries it from the nail-bed. I clamp my mouth shut, refusing to let them hear my pain, even though this does hurt. It’s one of my own favorite methods of getting information out of people. The young lad drops the nail on the floor and moves to the middle finger on my other hand. I still don’t give him my scream, though. It’s what he wants to satisfy his urges.
“Where is Laird Iuan?” the other man questions.
His accent is not originally from Scotland. It’s laced with the hints of an Englishman. It’s interesting. I’ll have to remember that for when I return to my fiancé. If his enemies are getting help from the English, then it needs to be known. No Scottish man wants to be ruled by the scum from south of the border.
I’ve no idea what time of day it is. It could be dark by now. The sun was setting when I was captured.
“Well, if the sun has set, he’s probably sitting in his armchair drinking and eating.”
“Where?”
“In his castle, perhaps.”
The boy places the tongs back in the fire to heat them once more.
“And where is the exact location of this castle? It’s not the one you grew up in—the one he inherited.”
“Oh.” I play dumber and dumber. “You want me to tell you where his new residence is.” I shake my head. “You know I can’t do that. I mean, you people aren’t exactly friendly toward guests. I dread to think what you’d go and do to him. No, that piece of information will be kept strictly to myself.”
The dungeon master roars loudly in frustration.
“For fuck’s sake, woman. I’m not playing around here. My master wouldn’t allow me to fuck the information out of you, but he’ll fuck you himself if you don’t tell me. Do you want that?”
“He’d have to find his dick first. I’ve heard from a lot of the ladies, who’ve defected to my fiancé’s care, he’s not overly large in that department.”
The dungeon master vents his anger by swiping a table full of torture instruments onto the floor.
“Should I pull more nails?” the insipid boy questions.
The young lad will never make a proper dungeon master. He’ll soon be outwitted and killed by one of his victims.
“Try toenails,” the dungeon master suggests.
The boy proceeds to remove my two big toenails. It fucking hurts, and a line of perspiration appears on my forehead, but I still don’t give them the scream of pain they want.
“Sir, what should I use next?” The boy places the tongs back in the fire and shrugs his shoulders. “How about the breast ripper or the scold’s bridal?”
Typical man, going for the instruments designed to torture women specifically.
“No, they won’t work on her. We need something inventive.”
The dungeon master comes over again and looks down at me.
“Are you even human?” he spits at me.
“I don’t think anybody really knows the answer to that.” I retort and yawn again. “While you’re planning what to do with me, I think I’ll have a little sleep.”
“Pain doesn’t affect you. You thrive on it, if anything. What will break you and give me the information I need?” I simply give the man a sadistic smirk. “Get her up?” he orders the boy, and I’m unchained and untied from the table before being pulled roughly up onto my feet. My toes smart with the pressure put on them. “Now, what’s your weakness?” The man circles me. “You don’t fear me sexually, do you?”
I don’t answer, just start to hum a little tune to myself. I look down at my hands—my nails are a mess. It’s going to take a while to get them fixed. At least they left my index fingers intact—I find them the most useful. Stupid men, they think it’s the middle one that’s the most important because it’s normally the finger they fuck a woman with.
The dungeon master lifts up my linen slip.
“Pervert,” I remark but don’t show any concern.
He circles around me again and stops behind me. I know he’s staring at the signature on my bottom. I give it a little wiggle.
The room falls silent.
“I’ve got it. Put her back on the table face down.”
I’m dragged forward onto the table and chained down again. This is a new way of conducting torture unless he plans to use the pear of anguish. It’s going to have little affect on me, though. Iuan is a master with anal sex. The things he’s shoved up my ass would have most people running for the hills.
“Bring me the branding iron,” the man orders, and for the first time, I start to get a little concerned. “I know your weakness,” the dungeon master leans down and spits into my ear. “It’s been obvious from the start. I was just stupid enough not to realize it at first.” He strokes his hand over my ass. “Iuan himself will be your downfall—his mark.”
The spotty boy returns with a large brand.
“You pride yourself on being his, wearing his mark and having his cum inside your body. You’re nothing more than a whore to him, and you haven’t got a clue. It’s why he does the things he does to you. You’ll never be the queen of his kingdom. You’re a demon in the dark not a wife he wants to show off.”
I start to struggle on the table. It’s all lies my tormentor’s spouting, but he’s plucking at the strings of all my deep-rooted insecurities. I’m not a conventional Lady, but then Iuan isn’t a conventional Laird.
“Tell me where he is, and I’ll let you keep his signature intact.”
“No,” I shout.
I feel a side of the iron touch my ass. I know it’s not in the same place as the signature, but it doesn’t stop me from screaming. It spurs the men on. They’ve broken my shield down. Weakened me. I try to slam my mouth shut, but as the branding iron is moved into position to sear away Iaun’s mark, I finally reveal the location of the man I love.
Chapter 6
1500s Scotland
I don’t know for how long I’ve been unconscious when the bucket of disgusting liquid is thrown over me. I dread to think what’s in it. Scrap that, I know it’s a mixture of feces and urine. It does the job and wakes me up.
“Stand,” the d
ungeon master orders, and I’m dragged up onto my feet.
My ass hurts, the skin burned away, taking Iuan’s signature with it. They broke me. I’ve failed. My legs give way, but I’m held upright.
“Not so much of a bitch now, are we?” the dungeon master goads me while holding me up.
He cuffs my hands with chains and drags me from the room. I’m paraded through the corridors, wearing only my linen slip covered in blood, and smelling of shit. People watch me. They spit at me—some even throw rotten food at me. I’m beyond caring, though. My mind is broken. They took my pride and destroyed me.
I’m dragged into a large banqueting hall and thrown onto the floor. People around me shout my name and curse me to hell. My head is pulled up, so I can see the man I love. My heart breaks. He’s bruised, bleeding, and on his knees. I want to go to him, but he doesn’t look at me. I don’t even know if he knows I’m here. He’s dazed and confused. Not the great Laird I know him to be.
Eventually he raises his head and sees me. A smile breaks out on his face.
I mouth the words, “I’m sorry.”
But he shakes his head, waving my apology away.
The man I’d come here to kill steps forward from the crowd, followed by another man dressed all in black, who’s wearing a mask over his face and carries an axe at his side.
An executioner.
It’s over.
“If these two monsters had succeeded, I would be dead by now,” our captor addresses the gathered crowd. “Instead, in a few moments, I’ll rule over more land than I’ve ever imagined possible. I’ll be the most powerful force in southern Scotland, and nobody will dare come against me when they see my enemy’s head rotting on my turrets.”
He then nods to the executioner, silently permitting him to proceed.
Looking down at Iuan, the executioner asks, “Do you have any last words?”
