by Winter Fox
“Please don’t take me back there,” I begged. Anything was better than my prison.
He tugged cruelly on the leash, and I fell from the bed. I was grateful for the thickness of the carpet.
“You deserve it, slave. You won’t do as you’re fucking told.”
I pushed myself desperately up onto my hands and knees.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want, I swear. Just please don’t put me back down there.”
He took a step toward me, and I knelt at his feet. I looked up at him in complete misery, and fear.
“Please, master?”
He seemed to consider my plea, before making his decision. Then he pulled on the chain until I had no choice but to stand up, and face him.
“You might live to regret this.”
As I followed him submissively from the room, I couldn’t decide whether he was talking to me, or to himself.
Chapter Eight
Adonis led me along the hallway in the opposite direction from which I had arrived earlier. He kept his back to me, and didn’t speak to me during the journey. Although, he didn’t pull the chain too roughly this time. Something that I was thankful for.
We descended down a set of sweeping stairs, and I took a moment to be grateful for the thick carpet beneath my bare feet. It was the same heavy pile as everywhere else, and it meant that I didn’t miss having shoes quite so much.
We encountered an older woman who was dressed in a modest, maid’s outfit, on the stairs. As we approached her, she stepped back until she was pressed against the wall; giving us free passage down the steps.
“Thank you, Esther.” Adonis said.
Esther gave me a curious glance as we passed by her, and I scowled in return. How could she stand by and watch another woman dragged around in a collar and leash? She must know what he was intending to do to me.
Esther soon disappeared behind us, as we wound our way further down the stairs. Just when I thought we couldn’t go any lower without ending up underground, Adonis stopped in front of a black door with a keypad. He shot me a questioning stare, and understanding his meaning, I turned my head away while he entered the code.
Holding the door open, he unclipped my leash—leaving the collar in place—and waved at the room ahead.
“Go in.”
I had no choice. I stepped into a room that took my breath away. The lower half of the walls were paneled in wood of a rich, dark black. The paint on the upper walls was a luxurious, deep, midnight blue. The floor was made of solid, black wood, which was much colder on my bare feet than the carpet had been.
If there was a window in here, I couldn’t see it. But a set of sumptuously thick black curtains were drawn across one wall. The lack of windows meant that there was no natural light in here; instead spotlights were scattered across the ceiling, like stars.
But, it was the furniture that really caught my attention. There was a plush, round bed in the center of the room, which was dressed in the same blacks, and blues as the walls. I could see silver restraints attached to four short, black posts which were set securely into the floor at intervals around the bed.
There was a black wooden “X” against the back wall, which had restraints that matched the ones on the bed at the end of each tip of the cross. Against another wall was a black, polished table, which was completely bare of any ornaments.
The third wall struck fear into me, making me back-up toward the door. It was covered in ornate hooks, and each hook held either a whip, handcuffs, canes, blindfolds, anal plugs, nipple clamps, and other things that were unfamiliar to me.
I had used many of the items before. But, they weren’t terrifying when you were willingly participating with someone you loved—or even liked.
As I took another step back, I crashed into something solid, behind me. Turning, I realized it was Adonis.
“Let me go. I’m not doing this,” I snapped, pushing against him.
My eyes landed on the door behind him, just in time to watch it click shut. The keypad inside the room blinked green; before turning an ominous static red.
I was trapped.
Adonis wrapped his strong hands around my wrists. He gripped far tighter than was comfortable, and he started leading me toward the wall of sex toys.
“Let me go,” I howled, kicking and pulling against his impossibly strong grip.
He reached the wall of toys, and somehow managed to grip both of my wrists with one hand while he selected a paddle from the selection of torture instruments. Then he started to walk toward the “X” against the back wall, pulling me along after him.
I knew that once he got me to the cross, he would snap those silver restraints closed on my ankles, and wrists, and I would be helpless.
Mustering all the strength I had, I threw myself backward until his grip failed, and I rolled onto the floor. I was free. Staggering to my feet I ran back to the wall of implements, looking for something that had caught my eye a moment ago.
Quickly finding the glint of metal beneath the spotlights, I snatched up a short blade. Then with a feral look on my face, I turned to look at my tormentor. The expression of genuine shock on his own face made me smile.
He quickly regained his composure, however. “Put that down right now, and I’ll let this one go, slave.”
With deliberate slowness, I shook my head from left to right.
No.
He started to walk toward me, and I began to back up. His eyes had gone dark, and bitterly cold. I knew that if I didn’t kill him, he was going to make me suffer in ways that I couldn’t imagine.
“Last chance, slave.”
He was close enough to me that if I didn’t move now, it would be too late. My muscles bunched together, then I sprang across the distance between us, with the knife held out toward his throat.
I had known that I couldn’t come close to matching his strength, but I hadn’t expected the speed with which he lunged forward. His left arm came up to knock the knife from my hand, and his body continued forward, until he collided with me. His weight took the wind out of my lungs, and I fell back against the wooden floor with a brutal thud.
His hands pinned my wrists tightly against the floor above my head, and his legs locked over mine; leaving me completely helpless. His face was inches from mine, and his eyes burned with a cold, blue fire as he snarled at me.
“You tried to kill me, you fucking bitch.”
“Only because you tried to hurt me,” I whispered through tears of pain, and fear.
He knelt back, pulling me up with him. Then he slowly regained his feet; before pulling me to mine. I had no energy left to fight him by this time. I hurt all over. I was beginning to realize that I was never going to escape this monster.
“Oh, eighty-eight. I’m going to do more than hurt you. I’m going to break you.”
I swallowed back my terror.
He pulled my unresisting body along to the “X” before pushing me against it, face first, so that my back was exposed to the room.
Without speaking, he secured my left wrist in the dangling silver restraint, then my right wrist on the other side. I jumped, and kicked out when I felt his fingers hook a hold of my g-string at either side.
“I wouldn’t,” he warned.
I leaned my head against the cross, and closed my eyes as he removed the tiny garment that had been protecting my modesty. Once he had slipped the g-string past my feet, he moved my left leg outward until it was level with the bottom cross. Quickly securing my ankle, he moved to my right leg, and repeated the process.
I was completely restrained, with my legs spread-eagled, and a cool breeze tickling against my open sex. I heard him cross the room, and I realized he must have been going to retrieve the paddle that he dropped when we fought.
Not being able to see what he was doing, was the most terrifying thing of all. When I felt his breath tickle against my ear, I almost screamed into the silence of the room.
“Now. I’m going to teach you
some discipline, slave,” he whispered.
He stepped away from me, and I waited for the burn of the paddle against my bare ass. When the sound of a whip ricocheted across the room I yelped in fear, despite not feeling the sting of the leather.
“You didn’t think you were going to get the paddle, after your behavior did you, slave? Paddles are for good girls.”
I whimpered. “Please?”
“The time for please is done.”
This time, when the whip sang through the air, it did make contact with the soft flesh of my ass, and I screamed.
Oh how I screamed.
The pain was like a hot, metal hook being dragged slowly through my skin. The afterburn went on, and on. It was so painful it threatened to drag me into blissful unconsciousness.
“Crack.” The second lash landed a little lower, so it settled against the crease underneath my ass.
I couldn’t help it. This time I didn’t just scream, I begged.
“Please, master. I will do anything. I’ll be a good girl. Please? Please don’t?”
Silence.
I waited, listening for any sound that would tell me what he was going to do next. When I heard nothing, I started to relax a little. I wrapped my hands—which had been hanging limply in the restraints—around the wood of the “X” trying to lift myself up a little.
“Crack.”
This one was by far the worst. It was so unexpected, and my poor abused body had been so relaxed. It felt as though the leather had bitten into my skin by inches. This time I struggled to fight against the darkness, and my head lolled to the side as I started to go under.
I vaguely registered the snap of my ankle restraints being opened. Then he released my wrists, one-by-one. I almost fell to the floor, but he caught hold of me. He hooked his arms under my knees and my back before lifting me up, and carrying me to the bed in the center of the room.
He lay me on my back, and I whimpered at the soothing feel of the cool silk against my burning skin. He left me lying there, while he crossed the room to a silver refrigerator that I hadn’t noticed before. Opening the door, he took out a bottle of mineral water.
Returning to the bed, he sat down next to my head, and unscrewed the cap of the bottle before offering it to me. I stayed where I was, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I’m not a monster, despite what you might think. Drink, eighty-eight.” He held the bottle out further as he spoke.
I pushed myself up onto my elbow, and snatched the bottle from him. He waited patiently while I took several long gulps of the cool liquid, before handing it back to him. He screwed the cap back on, and studied me for a moment.
“Turn onto your belly. I want to see how hurt you are.” It wasn’t a request.
I really didn’t want to roll over, and bare my naked ass to him. But, I also didn’t want a repeat of the last ten minutes. Like the good dog I was, I rolled over onto my tummy, burying my face into the soft bedding in shame.
I heard him hiss in a sharp breath as he took in the extent of what he had done to me. Then I flinched as I felt his finger-tip slowly trace one of the burning lash marks. He reached the crack of my ass, and tickled his way over it, to continue with his exploration of my wounds.
I shivered, and was sickened to realize that my body was responding to his touch. He paused. Obviously he had sensed it too. His finger started back on its journey across my flesh, when suddenly his other hand found its way between my thighs. He pushed gently.
“Open your legs, slave.”
I briefly considered my options; before unclenching my thighs, and letting my legs slowly separate.
He stopped touching my ass; instead I felt him gently place the tip of a finger against my clit. I stayed perfectly still, trying desperately to pretend this wasn’t happening. But, when he slowly traced his finger up across my wet folds—teasing his way between my legs until he reached the soft puckered flesh of my ass—I couldn’t help but tremble under his touch.
“You’re so wet,” he exclaimed.
Thoroughly humiliated by my body’s betrayal, I rolled stiffly onto my back, and glared at him. My thighs clenched shut once more.
His mouth twitched as he held up his index finger—glistening with my juices. Then without taking his eyes from mine, he put his finger into his mouth, and sucked it clean.
Chapter Nine
You are a monster. A beautiful, fucked-up monster. I thought to myself.
It seemed that he wasn’t quite done yet. He prowled onto the bed, and easily pulled my legs apart again, with both hands. My hands flew down to try to hide myself from his eyes, and his touch.
He swatted them away easily. “No more trouble. I want to show you what it can feel like when you do as you’re told.”
I said nothing, but I kept my hands by my sides, gripping the silk material of the bedsheets. Satisfied, he maneuvered himself until he was kneeling between my legs. Then he lowered his head down, until his hot mouth pressed down over my sex.
I groaned.
He obviously took that as a signal to carry on, and he did. First he worked on my clit, teasing the sensitive nub with swirling circles of his tongue; before closing his whole mouth down over it and sucking softly.
My back arched off the bed, and my hands flew to my eyes, covering them so that I didn’t have to look at the room around me. I didn’t want to be reminded of where I was, or who I was with. I didn’t want to admit how good his mouth felt. Not even to myself.
I suddenly felt his fingers at my soaking wet entrance, and when he pushed two inside me, I cried out in pleasure. He then drew his hand back, before thrusting his fingers deep inside me, over and over again. His tongue didn’t stop, he continued licking and sucking at my hyper-sensitive clit; until without warning my body bucked from the bed as I was engulfed by an earth-shattering orgasm.
The very instant the waves of pleasure subsided, I jolted myself upright, into a sitting position, and wrapped my arms around my knees—hugging them protectively to my chest.
He sat opposite me, his mouth twitching in delight. I was disgusted to see the remains of my pleasure glistening on his chin. He knew that he’d won by taking my self-control from me completely. Misery washed over me as I accepted that he really did own me now.
“Now. Wasn’t that better than the whip?” His voice held a smug tone.
I looked at him through hooded eyes. “No. It was rape.”
He shrugged, before standing up from the bed, and collecting the discarded bottle of water. He took a long drink before he replied.
“Perhaps it was. But, I didn’t hear you saying no when you came.”
“I hate you,” I spat.
If he cared how I felt about him it didn’t show. Walking to a small cupboard, mounted on the wall, he took out a towel, and wiped his face clean. Tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his full lips, he seemed to be considering what torture he would inflict on me next.
“Have you ever heard the word ‘nadu’ slave?”
I shook my head.
He nodded. “I thought not. When I use that command, you will drop to your knees with your legs apart. The back of your hands will rest against your thighs, palms open as though in supplication. Your back will be straight, and your head will face forward. But, your eyes will be lowered to the floor in a sign of respect. Do you understand?”
I lowered my eyes to the bed covers, and ignored him. I knew I shouldn’t provoke him, but I was still feeling fuzzy from my earlier orgasm. The pleasure had prompted my rebellious streak to return.
Suddenly the whip from earlier touched against my cheek, and I flinched. He tickled the end of the whip down my face; until it came to rest beneath my chin. Then he used gentle pressure to force me to tilt my head back, so I was looking upward into his devil’s eyes.
“Do you understand?” His voice was low, and dangerous. But, it was also sexy and seductive as hell. As hard as I tried not to respond, my nipples hardened, and my core tightened with desire.
>
How is he doing this to me?
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” The whip twitched.
“Yes, master.”
“Good.” Then, “Nadu.”
I slid off the bed, ignoring the flare of pain in my ass, and the heat of desire in my belly. I desperately wanted more from him, and it disgusted me.
I knelt before him in the position he had described, biting my lip in shame as I realized that my bare folds still shone with the tell-tale wetness of my orgasm, in between my open thighs.
“Beautiful,” he whispered from above me, as he traced the whip over my breasts, and down my belly; before teasing the tip over my sensitive nub.
My core throbbed delightedly in response to him.
“This is how you will greet me, whenever I walk into the room, eighty-eight. This is your default position, and should your master desire that you assume another position, he will tell you.”
The heat in my belly went instantly cold when he said “your master.” Once again I was reminded that I wasn’t going to stay here, I would belong to someone else one day. My life was no longer my own.
His question caught me off guard. “What are you, slave?”
I answered him honestly. “I’m a woman who has been stolen from her life, and forced to become a slave.”
He shook his head. “You’re more,” he murmured.
I had no idea what he meant, so I decided to ask my own question. “What are you?”
His mouth twitched in the familiar smirk. “I’m not sure you’re ready to face the truth of that, slave.”
Surprised he hadn’t reprimanded me for my insolence, I was inspired to keep pushing him.
“Tell me the truth, please? I deserve to know.”
His eyes darkened for a moment; before he grabbed a nearby chair, and sat himself down in front of my kneeling form.
“Do you know what an incubus is, slave?”
Seriously?
I raised my eyebrows skeptically, and nodded.
“For hundreds of years, incubi have co-existed with humans. We look like you, act like you, for all intent and purpose we live like you. Admittedly we are all wealthy due to the nature of our secrets, and the longevity of our lives.”
