I have no idea how long I’ve been lying huddled here in this small dark prison. Hours, maybe days. I don’t know. Time seems of little importance to me right now. All I want to think about is how I can escape but I can barely think beyond the throbbing pain in my body and my soul. Before he dragged from the Suburban my eyes had been bound by another blindfold cutting off my ability to identify where he’d taken me.
I try to sit up but my head pounds and it takes a moment for me to push myself up against the wall to a sitting position. I feel like I’ve been knocked in the back of the head, but with my hands bound I can’t check for a wound. After a brief rest, I push myself up even further to squat against the hard, wooden wall.
Sick with fear.
I huddle in the corner, cringing every time I hear a scratching on the ground or wall. God only knows what’s running over the floor near my body. I crouch in the corner of the dark, dank room with my chin lowered to my chest. I can’t just sit hhere and do nothing. I have to try and find a way to escape. I have to.
I gather what little strength I have and push myself the rest of the way up the wall until I stand. Granted, I feel a little shaky, but I do it. The sliver of light from the door makes it possible for me to navigate around the room. I turn my back to the door wrapping both hands around the knob, but no matter how hard I twist, turn or yank, the door won’t open. It’s useless. I glance around the room. There’s no other way out. No windows. No cracks in the walls. Nothing.
I guess I’m stuck in this room until someone comes for me, or until—alarm spikes in my blood. I take a deep breath and count to ten to calm the terror welling up. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. I swallow, barely able to gather enough saliva to wet my dry throat. Grateful that Nate at least removed the gag.
“Help me!” I scream out hoarsely, my voice strained, my feet bruised from kicking at the hard door. “Somebody, please help me!”
Tears well in my eyes and I use my side to slide back down the wall onto the cold, hard floor. I think feverishly of a way to escape but the room is empty, not even a scrap of paper litters the ground. I’m cold and scared and all I can do is sit and prepare for whatever is coming next.
Does he miss me? Is he looking for me? Does he truly care? I lean my cheek against my raised knees remembering how he makes me feel. How I melt in his arms. The tender words he’s spoken. Absolute surrender. I remember how he tastes, his scent, the feel of his strong arms around me. I have nothing else to do but sit idly and remember.
I like you a lot.
The words like a dream.
“No, Angel, I need air. I need food and water. I need you.”
I exhale on a shuddering breath hoping I’ll be able to hear them from his gentle, deep voice again.
Then I remember what Colt said to me that night. Well, at least I think it’s still that night. “A true man, Dom or not, doesn’t intentionally harm a woman.”
Suddenly a cough bubbles up hard as the cold seeps into my chest and tears begin a slow descent down my cheeks. I rub one cheek against my knee to dry the tears. Then imagine it’s the feel of Cowboy’s furred chest when I did the same thing to him and I sob. I rub my cheek in slow circles over my sweater covered knees imagining the coarse, wiry texture of his chest hair instead of the soft fabric. His scent floats on the air like he’s standing in front of me and I let out a sigh again, only this time much louder and much more despondent.
“I’ll be fine.”
I squeeze my eyes tightly over a prickle of useless tears and repeat this phrase over and over before eventually falling into a troubled sleep.
***
I wake sometime later to the sound of footsteps drawing close, followed by the jangling of keys before I hear the metallic click of a lock turning.
My wrists and shoulders ache from being bound and the pain hammers so hard in my temples I can count the pulse beats. My muscles so stiff, I barely manage to push myself to a standing position, using the wall for support once again. I try to swallow, but find it difficult due to my immense thirst. My mouth feels as if it’s been stuffed with cotton balls.
My eyes widen as he strolls casually through the open door and leans against the doorframe. “What are you doing, Nate?” I blurt, my voice scratchy from lack of use.
“I’m about to have a little fun with you,” he snarls.
I clamp my lips tightly as my fear returns in full force. I try to shrink into the corner but I can only go so far. I press back against the wall as icy fear crawls clean up my spine.
He makes no attempt to move farther into the room, but I can still see that his cold, blue eyes glitter with malice. I’m able to make them out clearly with just the glow of the light from the hallway.
I school my features so as not to show the fear that’s eating at my soul. “Why?” My eyes dart nervously from him to the door gauging the distance, weighing my ability to rush past him and escape.
“Kimberly.” His voice deepens with barely suppressed rage. “Did you think I was so desperate for your attention that I would let you lead me around by my dick? I just don’t want anyone else to have you.” His shoulders lift. “Plain and simple.”
“God, Nate, you’re not making any sense,” I plead, my knees weakening with fear to the point that I can no longer hold myself up. I slide down the wall racking my brain desperately for something soothing to say. “I didn’t do anything to you, Nate. You’re the one who hit me.” My pulse leaps to a furious panic.
“You begged me for it. You’re a pain whore like all the rest.” His face turns a mottled shade of red as he snarls with rage.
Additional fear hardens like a lump in my gut. “I never asked for you to beat me, Nate.” The blood rushes through my veins as an odd look takes over his cold eyes, one almost of victory. I watch warily as he crosses the room, crouches down in front of me, and reaches behind me to unlock the cuffs removing them from my wrists.
“The sheriff could care less if anything happens to me.” My eyes pleading and terrified. “I’ll just be extra paperwork for him.” I tamp down the fear that swells inside me, keeping my voice as calm as I can, even though I feel like screaming.
He sits back on his heels and sends me an odd look. “You truly believe that?” he asks, something different in his voice as he scrubs a hand over his chin.
I see the wild gleam in his eyes before I know what he’s about. He lifts a hand and slaps me hard across the face. I recoil in shock, my hand flying to my cheek to ease the sting, tears springing to my eyes. I scramble on my knees, pressing myself safely back in the corner. I imagine Cooper’s strong arms wrapped around me, protecting me from this insane man.
Nate’s face goes very still and cold right before he swears viciously. “Do you think I’m stupid? You’re whoring for him just like you did for me!" He looks at me, his eyes vacant. “God, you don’t have a fucking clue.”
I realize at that time, that if I stand a chance, it’s now or never. My pulse rate quickens as I jump up and sprint to the door catching it with my shoulder. A grunt of pain escapes my lips before he slings me back and slams the door shut in my face.
“Please, Nate.” I pound on the door. “C’mon, at least give me some water!” My lips are dry to the point of cracking and bleeding and my tongue’s swollen thickly in my mouth after hours and hours with nothing to drink. I back quickly away from the door as it opens. The look of fury in his eyes makes me shut mine and I crumple to the floor in despair as anguished tears stream unchecked down my face. I lean my head on my knees hugging myself tightly in an attempt to ward off the fearful shivers that shake my body. Nate chuckles. I sob out in disbelief as he empties a bottle of water over my head letting out an even harsher laugh.
He shuts the door and I once more find myself locked in the tiny, cold room. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. Maybe I should just give up. Maybe I should I just get it into my head that there may not be a happy ending.
Deep wracking sobs overtake my weakened, shivering
body.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Learn to govern yourself and to be gentle and patient
“Rise and shine my little slave.”
I rouse myself, lifting my head groggily from my knees to watch Nate’s long strides as he crosses the room and stops directly in front of me. Without warning, he grabs me painfully by my upper arms and hauls me to a standing position, albeit, a somewhat shaky standing position. Immediately he releases me as if he can’t bear to touch me for long and I’m forced to throw my arms out to gain my balance.
“Strip.” His fierce gaze betrays his calmly stated command.
At first my mouth falls open and I gape up at him. I take a moment to school my features because I have no intention of changing his currently cool demeanor to one of uncontrollable anger.
I stretch my cramped legs and work at giving the fogginess in my brain time to dissipate. Not quite comprehending the words coming out of his mouth because I’m still too bone-weary to think. Besides, my brain seemed to freeze and my ears stopped hearing at the word slave.
Coldness seeps through my body like ice water has been poured directly into my veins and all manner of thoughts begin filtering through my mind and most of them repulse me, making me shudder.
I imagine being strapped in a box under a bed, or a human sized dog cage, or shackles on a stone wall. Those are the ideas that I imagine many people have when they think of the lifestyle. The belief that all participants are just a bunch of sick freaks who want nothing more than to cause pain. I know that’s false, unfortunately it’s not a false assumption associated with Nate. There are deeper issues going on with him. Any of those enough to make my lungs seize and frantic palpitations to take over the beating organ in my chest.
He grabs a hank of my tangled hair and with a quick, sharp pull, forces my head back releasing me from the nightmares that are taking over my mind and bringing me back to an equally dark reality that makes my chest tighten and the flow of air from my lungs to abruptly stop.
“Strip.”
Why hadn’t I been honest from the very beginning? If I had, he would have had no fodder for his fantasies. No misconstrued ideas of our relationship. Perhaps I wouldn’t now find myself in this sickening predicament.
I lick my dry lips before answering. “Nate, please,” I beg. “Please don’t do anything you’ll regret.” I swallow the urge to back away, to run. I know that will only make matters much worse.
“I already regret a lot. One more thing isn’t going to make or break me, whore.”
I recoil as I look into his cold, soulless depths of his eyes and flinch. He’s past comprehending what he’s truly doing. Seriously lost his grip on reality and I’m the one who’s going to get the brunt of his anger and craziness.
“Now strip,” he repeats calmly. Almost too calmly. “If I have to remove your clothes for you, you won’t like it.”
Should I try and defy him? Already too weak without food or water to attempt to fight, I order myself to calm down and do what he commands. I hope I can buy some time by doing the task slowly.
I slip the black sweater from my shoulders and let it fall to the ground watching as it settles around my feet. I remember when I bought it. Thinking how pretty I thought it was.
I bend over and unbuckle my sandals slipping them off my feet wondering if they’re ruined. Ridiculous thought. They’re one of my favorite pairs. All strappy and sexy. Not to mention, they’d cost me a small fortune. I look at them recalling Cooper’s reaction when he saw me wearing them at The House.
“Tonight of all nights you had to wear Goddamn bondage sandals?”
His hand skimmed down my thigh until it slid under my knee and lifted my leg to lie over his hip. He fiddled with the buckle on my right sandal and I thought I was going to lose my mind.
“Your poor feet are tied more securely than a sub on a St. Andrews cross waiting for a good flogging.”
I’d giggled behind my hand lethargic in the cloud of lust that had fogged my brain. Grateful that I could joke with him about my desires now that I’d revealed them to him.
“They’re giving me ideas.”
“Honestly that just makes me hot,” I’d said in a voice thick with lust.
I lift the silky tank over my head and drop it to the ground. I slide the back zipper on my shorts down and let them drop as well. Lastly my bra, because I no longer have possession of my panties after Cowboy had seen fit to take care of them in my office earlier that evening. I shiver, chilled to the bone with my nakedness and fear. I raise my head slowly. My wide eyes collide with Nate’s icy gaze and panic hammers in my chest. I can feel the heat of his gaze as his eyes run slowly over me, inch by inch.
I stand arms at my side and steel myself for what’s to come next. Determined that I’m not going to let him see the fear that shadows my eyes. That’s when I notice chains dangling from the beams in the ceiling near the opposite wall and my gaze wavers. They hadn’t been there before and the heat of tears burn in my throat and eyes.
I know for a fact that he has no intention of being gentle like Cowboy. I know his goal is to punish not to bring pleasure and my legs crumple and I slump to the floor falling to my knees with sobs racking my body, my hands palm up.
“Please, Nate.” My pulse pounds like a jackhammer and I can barely catch my breath.
He grips my hair, jerking my head back, holding my face up and backhands me, taking my breath. Tears blur my vision and my breath comes in hiccupping sobs as I try to gain control of myself.
“M-M-Master,” I quickly correct on a helpless sob. “Please don’t hurt me.” I beg, no longer stunned by his brutality, but my body’s filled to the brim with dread.
He grips the tangled mass again and tugs. Pain shoots through my scalp and I grunt from the brutality as handfuls of my auburn curls are ripped from my head in thick chunks. “Do you believe you get to dictate my actions, slave?”
I instinctively pull back and he backhands me again. My head flies back and for the third time in a short amount of time, I taste my own blood. I was starting to grow used to it now. The taste no longer causes me to gag or cringe as it slides down the back of my throat.
“N-N-No, Master.” A single tear balances shakily from my lashes and I watch it blurrily hanging on the precipice before falling to land on my naked breast. Instead of expending my energy concentrating on his hand twisted painfully in my hair, I focus on the feel of the wetness sliding down my body.
I feel Nate’s eyes track the blood sliding slowly from the corner of my mouth and watch out of the corner of my eye as his tongue flicks out hungrily to wet his lips. His eyes dilate to an almost midnight blue and I cower at the irrational pleasure he’s gaining from my pain. My heart rate spikes and I work furiously to swallow the terror as he hauls my hands behind my back and wraps the cuffs around my wrists securing them tightly.
I’m barely able to take a breath before he rips at the button on his jeans, lowers the zipper, and shoves them to his knees. His cock springs free, stiff and in my face as his hand holds the back of my head.
“Open wide, slave.”
He doesn’t even give me time to prepare, he shoves his cock all the way to the back of my throat and I gag and gurgle through the punishing thrusts as he forces my mouth around his cock with his hand at the back of my head.
At first I struggle against the intrusion. My lungs burn, my nostrils flare as I fight to gain control of my breathing. I sob and beg around his cock but he ignores everything.
Nate’s eyes watch closely as my lips surround his angry, red, engorged flesh. “Jam it in your throat, bitch.” He grunts. “Suck it. Make it feel good like you made him feel good.
I can’t mask the fear that shines brightly in my eyes as I look up from where I kneel. Nate’s fingers thread tightly into my hair holding me steady. A Prisoner. He wants nothing more than for me to be there to service his needs and it makes me nauseous, but I concentrate on stilling my mind and offering no resistance or I know it
will be worse. I know what he’s capable of.
He grips my chin, twisting violently, forcing my jaw down, holding my mouth open and plunges deep. He holds himself there restricting my breathing until tears stream down my face. I jerk, my eyes pleading up, and his grip on my chin only tightens as he stabs his cock even deeper down my throat.
I bounce on me heels, trying to dislodge the flesh from my mouth, drool leaking down my chin as I grunt desperately for air, struggling against the hand at my chin and the other that grips the back of my head. My brain goes fuzzy, blackness taking over my vision, and just when I think I can’t take another second without air, he pulls out.
I fall back in relief, my bottom landing flat against my heels, my chin against my chest. I gulp in deep draws of air through my aching throat producing high-pitched whimpers and sobs that I’m unable to control as they pass through my parted lips.
“Stand.”
I scramble clumsily to my feet and he drags me across the room until we stand in front of the chains.
“Before I’m done, slave, you will beg me to stop and if I’m feeling generous, I just might.” He works quickly at securing my wrists to the chains, circling me as I dangle from my arms, the balls of my feet barely touching the ground, my shoulders burning from the exertion.
“You made me look like a fool, Kimberly.” He paces across the room, stroking his engorged cock in what looks to be painful, hard corkscrew movements as he moves back and forth. Semen dribbles from the slit in disgusting, bubbling discharge lubricating his shaft with each twist of his hand. I feel a sense of relief knowing that at least his rape won’t be as painful.
“You deserve to be punished for how you made me look, don’t you, slave?” He releases his cock and picks up a crop near the chains.
My breath hitches and my muscles tense as I brace myself for the first lash and the pain that’s sure to follow. “Y-Y-Yes, Master,” I answer through numb lips.
When You Only Need To Ask (The House of Sin: The Beginning) Page 32
