“I will, sir.”
“Good girl.” He grins. “You will address me properly from now on.”
“Fuck you.”
Another lash to my other ass cheek follows. I shriek and catch a tear with my tongue, trying to hide it from him. At the same time I spread my legs, because I know I have to do as he says. However, part of me doesn’t want to stop. It always wants to rebel, even when it’s not good for my health.
“Now pleasure yourself and let me see,” he says, snapping the belt again. He flicks it a couple of time as he bites his lip, watching me with one raised eyebrow. It’s as if he expects me to revolt again. He knows me too well.
So I decide to play along and do as he says.
I start rubbing my pussy again, painfully aware of the fact that the surrounding area is throbbing, putting even more pressure on my already engorged clit. No matter how much I fight it, how many times I tell myself I don’t like any of it, I do like the sensation. It’s wrong. It’s so fucking wrong. But it’s true.
Taking a deep breath, I continue caressing my folds and nub, trying to keep my legs spread at the same time. It’s freaking hard, because I get the urge to close them when I get hot and bothered, but I can’t. Each time I falter, he whips me again, reminding me to keep trying. I can’t give up. It’s either giving in to his wishes, or giving in to his displeasure. And I know better than to anger this man. I don’t want to be thrown out of a window. Nope, compared to that, having to finger myself is stupidly easy.
I concentrate on myself and block him out of my mind, but then he opens his mouth again.
“Two fingers, not one. Fuck that pussy hard.”
I sigh. “Yes, sir.”
With strong, sturdy hands, he lets the belt loose on me again. This time on my nipple. I squeal, fighting to keep my legs spread.
“Don’t you fucking smart-mouth me, little bird. Say it like you mean it.”
“Yes, sir,” I stammer.
“Now be a good girl, and show me how much fucking that pussy can take. I want to see what you’re capable of before I take you, because when I do, it’s going to be so fucking slow and agonizingly delicious you’ll beg me to come quickly.” He grins. “I’m not a sprinter, I’m a marathon runner.”
It sounds like I’m an item, something you buy at an auction and have to check to see whether it was really worth your money. It’s despicable, but at the same time it’s oddly arousing to have someone boss me around like this. It’s not often men are so clear on what they want. And Jesus, X talks dirty.
I don’t know why I like it, but I do.
Now I’ve really gone insane.
“Make it nice and slick,” he growls as he hits my nipple again. They are all puckered up from his whipping, painfully tingling. I dip two fingers into my pussy and swirl them around. Then I move back to my little nub and flick it, still pretending he’s not there. If I’m going to do this, I need to forget about everything.
“Keep. Your. Eyes. On. Me.” His voice is low and sounds angry, so I make sure to stare at him before I continue. I don’t want to call out his anger more than I already have, although I do hate looking at him, knowing what I’m doing. I can’t get the gun out of my mind, nor the belt, but fuck it, I’m losing it. My body is quivering, building up to the explosion, and I don’t want it to go off. I know he wants it.
“Let me see you come,” he says, rubbing his cock through the fabric. There’s a wet spot on his boxer briefs. Looking at it makes it easier to cope with. Hell, it makes it easier to touch myself and get off, because his cock is nice; that I can’t deny.
“You like this?” he says with a smug voice.
I try to ignore what he says, but he immediately reaches for the whip again, so I hurry to scramble an answer together. “Anything but your face.”
Oh God.
He stops moving. Just one growl escapes his mouth.
Now I’ve done it. Oh, no.
He steps forward and grabs me by my hair, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Am I not good enough, Jay? Am I an ugly fucker? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant.”
A rumbling sound emanates from his chest. “The fuck you didn’t. Look at me, Jay. Look!” he yells, pushing his forehead against mine as his free hand grips the hand I was fingering myself with. “See this fucking scar on my face? Do you know what kind of a motherfucker you have to be to get this kind of treatment? It’s my name, little bird. Remember it, because it’s going to be branded on your ass once I’m through with you. And then you’ll be like me.” He pushes my fingers down onto my pussy so hard it’s painful. “Anything but my face, huh?”
“It’s not your scar!” I blurt out. “I just don’t want to be scared.”
Frowning, he squints and pulls harder on my hair. “Scared of what? Me?” He laughs a little. “My face makes you scared?”
I don’t answer, which makes him chuckle.
“Good.” He grins and starts moving my fingers for me. “Did I say you could stop?”
I try to shake my head, but he grips my hair harder, making it impossible.
“Yeah, keep those pretty little eyes on me. Enjoy the burn on your ass and think of where it came from. Look at me while you fuck yourself and make yourself come.”
He lets go of my hand, but fists my hair some more, pushing it into a ponytail he can use to keep me in check. “C’mon, Jay, I’m not going to wait all day.”
I flick my clit as fast as I can, trying to escape into a fantasy land, even with my eyes open. But it’s no use. It’s impossible. And as my climax approaches I realize there’s no closing myself off, no turning away. I will have to look into his twisted coal eye and the mechanical one that suck out my soul as I come apart.
“Come. Now,” he demands, keeping his eye locked on mine and his fingers entangled in my hair. He pulls it back while I reach the brink of ecstasy. In this final moment of bliss, at the edge of insanity, I find peace. Even in his single real eye, I see clarity, something more than just hate. Pain. Inconceivable hatred sprung from love.
An eruption courses through my body, stemming from my pussy as I convulse from the orgasm. Whack! A harsh, flat slap to my ass pulls me from my temporary euphoria. The pain sizzles through my body, actually intensifying the explosions taking place.
“So beautiful … and so wicked …” he mutters with a gruff voice. “You came hard, didn’t you?”
I nod carefully.
A short, almost invisible smile tempers his face. “Hmmm …”
He liked it. God, he seriously liked it. I’ve seen this look on men’s faces before and there’s no question about it; this is what he wants. This is his weakness. Me.
I got him.
The more he pulls, the more he drags, the more he makes me suffer, the more he desires, the easier it becomes for me to seep into his bones like poison and ruin him. And then I’ll be free as a bird.
When he takes his hand off my ass, I didn’t even realize it was still there. Cocking his head back and sideways, he lifts his hand and brings it to my face, gently caressing my cheeks. I don’t trust him.
“Such a good girl,” he says. “If you listen, I will reward you.”
“How?” My voice is still croaky.
“You’ll see …” X holds out his hand and waits for me to take it. He helps me step out of the tub, but I still manage to slip on the stone floor. He catches me with his free hand and presses me close to his chest. I gasp, because I’m surprised he actually cared to not let me fall. That, and the fact that his cock is poking me. His hands are tightly wrapped around my body, and he buries his head in the nook of my neck. He smells me and then groans. “I remember this …”
His words creep me out.
Suddenly, his lips are on my neck. It’s soft and warm, and so not what I’m used to. He leaves random kisses all over my skin, dragging his lips up to my earlobe. Shivers run through my body. Then he stops, hovering close to my ear. “So eager. S
o feisty. So yearning for the pain … You’re a masochist, Jay.”
“A what?”
“You enjoy my hand giving your ass a royal spanking.”
“What?” I snarl, freezing, because I can feel his hands on my skin, feeling me up.
“You can deny it, but it won’t change a thing. You and I both know what you are.” His whispers make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight. “You punish yourself when no one else is around to do it for you.”
I’m shocked. I don’t know what to say. I can’t even bring out a few words. I’m totally and utterly flabbergasted.
And maybe a little ashamed, too.
He groans again, nipping my ear, biting it. “I’ll be your provider. I’ll give you pain as long as you give me your tears. Be wicked with me, Jay. Learn to love the monster that lurks inside you too. I know you’ve seen it. I can tell from your quivering lips and begging eyes. You need a man to control you, to temper your flame, and to make you feel alive.” He sucks on his lip, and it sounds like a hiss, making my skin crawl. Oddly enough, my clit is still throbbing, too. “Blood, Jay. I want your blood. I’ll strike you as long and as hard as needed until it turns your skin ruby and makes you so wet you’ll spread your legs willingly. My belt gives us both satisfaction. You’ll get the burning sensation of leather, I’ll get to draw your blood. But know this, little bird: you’ll never be free of me. Don’t think you were ever free to begin with, I’ve always been there, in the shadows, lurking, waiting to take my shot. Let me remind you again: I desire your blood, your tears, and your fear. I want it all. You can choose how. I’ll give you that choice. My belt or your head. So you decide, which one do you want?”
My body is giving up the fight as I shake profusely in his arms. It’s too much. I don’t want to die, but if that’s the only choice I have … would I pick a life of pain?
But then I realize I already made that choice long ago. I’ve been on my own ever since I left the hospital that day. The first day I remember after a huge blur. I’ve been wandering the streets like a lost lamb. I chose to trust the people, Hannah and Don, who betrayed me in the end. Always let people use me. Always abused myself. Pain is etched into my soul. He’s right: I’ve never been free. Not from him, nor from myself. I’m my own monster, and now I’ve found an equal.
“I want to live,” I whisper into the void.
I can feel him smile against my skin. “You’ll make a perfect pet.”
“The wicked envy and hate; it is their way of admiring.” - Victor Hugo
Chapter 11
Jay
The warmth coursing through my body doesn’t last long. Once the shower is turned off, X brings me straight back to the bed and binds my feet and hands again. I’m naked, spread for him to enjoy. He’s admiring my body from a distance, scratching his chin as he observes my reaction. I shut off my emotions, because I know they would consume me if I allowed them to overtake me.
The belt in his hands makes me jolt up from the bed each time he flicks it. “Are you comfortable, little bird?”
“Yes,” I mutter.
The belt comes down on top of my pussy, and it feels like I’ve been set on fire. He groans at my squeal.
“Wrong answer.”
“Please …” I whimper, tears springing into my eyes.
“Please what?”
“Please, sir …”
A half-smile builds on his face. “So tell me, Jay. What do you want?”
“Anything. Just make this stop.”
“Hmmm … you know it won’t ever stop. You’re mine now, and I intend to use you as I please.”
A tear trickles down my cheek. He licks his lips when he spots it. “More tears, little bird. Give me more tears and I might release you.”
“What?” I gasp, my eyes widening.
He chuckles. “Of course, by release I mean release you of the burden of having to feel so empty. That pussy of yours is begging to be filled.” He bites his lip. “I know you want my cock. You’ll get it soon enough.”
My heart sinks into my feet as the promise of freedom is swiftly taken away again. He just dangled a piece of meat in front of a caged lion. Fuck him. I hate him for screwing with my mind. I’ll make him pay someday.
“Now, stay right there.”
“Where are you going?” I say as he drapes the belt over the bed and then turns around.
“I killed more than five people these last few hours. You’re not the only one who got a little dirty,” he muses. He walks to the bathroom, turns around to hang his tie on the handle, and keeps the door open, giving me a full view of what he’s doing. I raise my head, keeping an eye on him, because I’m looking for any possible way to trick him into releasing me. Anything that catches my eye. I need to see, need to remember everything. I keep telling myself to watch.
However, it’s not that difficult when he starts taking off his clothes. Each button is carefully pulled without him taking his eye off me. His piercing stare makes it impossible for me to take my eyes off him as he takes off his shirt. A ripped, muscular body appears from underneath, his six-pack rippling as he hangs the shirt on the hook. In his right nipple is a straight metallic barbell, the glint catching my eye. His body is littered with tattoos; a skull on his abdomen and a wicked scythe above it. On his arms and neck are tribal tattoos. Together it’s almost like a painting; a warning of the corruption that lurks under his skin.
And yet, it looks so sexy. It’s so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop watching him. He oozes masculinity. Dominance. Sex. Things I haven’t experienced before. Or maybe I have.
I hate this confusion so I turn my head and look at the wall instead, trying to temper my arousal.
“Look at me, Jay. Did I tell you you could look away?”
I return to watching him, because I don’t want to call for another whipping. I don’t even know why I think it’s a choice, like I can avoid being hurt if I do what he says. As if pleasing him will keep me safe. My mind is spiraling into a darkness I can’t escape. His darkness.
He turns on the shower and then continues to pull down his boxer briefs, giving me full view of his ass. Even from a distance I can tell all his parts are well-trained, firm, and without flaws. His ass is a prime example of one I would gladly squeeze. I have to keep reminding myself that even though he has a delicious body, his mind and soul are loathsome. I can’t think about him like that.
Of course, it’s no use. When he turns on the shower, steps inside the tub, and turns around to face me, my eyes gorge themselves on his erection. He has a Prince Albert: a circular barbell right on the head of his cock. To the side of the head is another barbell, pierced right through the top: a Dydoe. Damn.
X seems to revel in the fact that my eyes are drawn to it immediately, as he starts rubbing it with his hands, caressing the length of his cock slowly. With his other hand he strokes his body and bald head, letting the water run along his muscled abs and legs. I picture myself standing there just a minute ago and for some reason get incredibly turned on just by watching him right now. I feel so perverted, so disgusted with myself that it’s happening, but I can’t stop it.
The way he smiles at me, his dark eye glowing like a marble, and the way he slides his hand over his shaft makes my juices flow.
Goddammit. He’s got me exactly where he wants me.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, widening his stance in the tub as he increases his speed.
I just blow out some air through my nose, which I’ve apparently been holding back. My clit is throbbing at the sight of him, but I try to ignore it.
“If that pussy isn’t wet by the time I get back, you’ll be in a lot of trouble, little bird,” he says with a grumbling voice that causes goose bumps to crawl over my body. “So feast your eyes.”
Annoyed, I pull on the cuffs restraining me, but they’re still too tight around my wrists to be able to break free. If only I could get more time to figure out a way to worm my fingers through one by one, I could grab th
e key and make a run for it. I know exactly where he keeps it: in the drawer beside the bed. The problem is, he’s constantly watching me, always vigilant, which means I won’t have a chance. He needs to be either gone or so far away I have time to free myself. I’ll have to be patient and endure this.
After lathering himself up, he soaps up his cock a second time and makes sure to rub it some more before rinsing it off. Each time I struggle in my bonds, his cock bumps up and down. He actually enjoys seeing me fight my captivity. It’s exactly like he said; he loves my flame and wants to temper it. What he didn’t take into account is that his words and touch are gasoline to me.
He turns off the shower and steps out again, quickly drying himself with a towel before draping it over his shoulder. With a self-confident stride he comes back to me, still fully naked, and he positions himself at the back of the bed, right in front of me. I pull my knees together to deny him access, but he slashes down the towel on my pussy in a quick move. I growl at him as he playfully raises an eyebrow at me. Fucking jerk.
He slides the towel across my pussy all the way up to my belly button and then breasts as he moves to the left side of the bed. When he reaches my head, he leans down and pinches my nipple with his index finger and thumb. A half-squeal, half-moan escapes my mouth as he tugs it hard. Then the towel is suddenly shoved into my mouth and yanked on both sides. I try to squeal, but making a sound is impossible with this towel in my mouth. X lifts my head and makes a knot. Then he picks up a piece of the towel and covers my nose with it.
“Hmmm …” he murmurs as he hears my muffled voice. “Go ahead. Make some sound. I like hearing your fading screams.”
He pulls my nipples again, one after the other, until they are taut and swollen, and then he bends and sucks on them. His teeth graze my flesh, sensations shooting through my body, reaching all the way down to my slippery folds. When he bites I scream, but the sound is blocked by the towel. His teeth pull my nipple and then release again, leaving a bite mark on my skin as he retreats. I look down and spot a red lash mark around my breast. A small bead of blood rolls out.
Mr. X Page 10
