Mr. X

by Clarissa Wild

  I know exactly what I’m going to do to change everything.

  I will ruin the person who’s behind it all. Suffering. Regret. Pain. Shame. I’ll show no mercy. Once it’s over, I will be begged to spare lives, and I will grant them none.

  I open a box that was under the bed and take out the camera that’s inside. I bought it a few days ago, and this is the first time Jay will see it. She doesn’t know what I’m planning to do, but from the look on her face I can tell she doesn’t like it. Good.

  “What are you going to do with that?” she asks.

  Ignoring her, I set up the tripod and perch the camera on top. Once I’m sure it’s focused on the bed and her, I turn it on.

  “You’re filming me? Why?” she asks, her voice raspy from fear.

  “After I’m done with you I’d like to be able to watch back and enjoy it again … and again … and again.” I smile when goose bumps appear on her skin. I don’t get why she’s so scared. After all, this is all too familiar to her.

  From my suitcase I fish a bunch of ropes, and from the chair I grab my belt. Her big brown eyes are luring me in. I get on the bed, place the belt and rope beside me, and crawl on top of her. Her skin is moist from the shower, and when my hand dives between her legs, it’s even wetter. I grin as she struggles in the chains. “Stop fighting me, little bird. Obey and I might give you what you want.” My finger circles on top of her clit and then slides down to her pussy, spreading her slickness through her folds. “You want to come, but you’re not allowed until I say so, got it?”

  She holds her breath as I dip a finger inside. Then I slap her inner thigh. Her squeal makes my cock bounce, eager to squirt its load on her velvety body. “Do not come. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl.” I take my finger out of her and she lets go of the breath she was holding. I move further up, planting my knees right beside her head. My cock is pointed right at her as I grab her face and perch her higher. “You will suck until I say you can stop.”

  Pushing forward, I rub the tip against her lips. My pre-cum serves as a nice lubricant as she opens her mouth and lets me slide in. I go deep and make her gag on me, which makes me even harder. I plunge in and out of her mouth at a steady pace. She jerks the chains from the claim I lay on her mouth as I fuck it.

  “Wrap your lips around my cock, little bird,” I command as I bury myself deep in her throat. In her eyes I see both fear and excitement, and it riles me up even more. Her mouth is at the base of my cock, her saliva richly flowing. I grab a fistful of her hair and pull her away, then force her mouth back over my cock. Her tongue swirls around my cock as I take it out and thrust back in again. She only gets a few seconds to breathe. I like seeing her panic, seeing her on the verge of choking. Not to the point of death, of course, but just enough to make her cower and beg.

  She pants when I take my cock out of her mouth and move back on the bed again. Leaning down, I lick her neck and stick my tongue into her mouth. She’s still gasping for air when I take her mouth and kiss her hard. Her hands and feet still fight the chains as I grab her jaw and lick her tongue with mine. A loud squeal escapes her mouth when I bite down on her lip. A drop of blood seeps out and I lick it up, kissing her again.

  “Why …” she mutters. Her voice is faint and it sounds like she’s pleading. She’s almost ready to give up.

  “Bleed for me. Hurt for me. Beg for me,” I whisper against her skin, leaving rough pecks on her neck. “Your blood entices me, Jay.”

  She muffles away a moan when I cover her nipple with my mouth and suck so hard it puckers up instantly. I jerk the other while going down even more. When I reach her pussy, I lick right above it. She moans against her will, and it makes me grin. I get up, leaving her deprived of pleasure. Her delicate flesh is raw and red, her nub swollen and probably pulsating too. She looks at me with half-mast eyes, hungry for more, but shamefully aware of it too.

  “Do you want to come, little bird?” I ask.

  Her lips quiver as she sucks in the air.

  I narrow my eyes at her, which immediately prompts her to open her mouth. “Yes, sir.”

  “And how badly do you want to come?”

  “Badly, sir.”

  “Bad enough to do anything for it?”

  She swallows. “Yes, sir.”

  A wicked smile curves my lips. “You will not move unless I make you, do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  One by one I take the cuffs off her ankles. Picking up the rope lying beside me, I grab her legs and push them up in a frog-like position. I tie the rope around her left upper and lower leg, and do the same to the right side with another rope. She struggles to stay upright in this most uncomfortable position. I lick my lips at the sight.

  Her head turns to look at the camera and then back toward me. “I don’t like this, sir,” she mutters.

  “I do,” I say, and then I drag my fingers through her folds. “And that’s all that matters. You know I am selfish.”

  I grin when an expression of satisfaction crosses her face as I rub her shaved pussy. She’s wet and open for me, so I dip two fingers inside and press down on her nub with my thumb. She cries out in blissful agony as I swirl around inside and take them out again. “This pussy wants to be filled so badly … doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir,” she moans while I flick her clit.

  “What does this pussy of mine want most?”

  “I want to come, sir.”

  I stop and slap the top of her pussy with a flat hand. A nice, heavy scream escapes her mouth. Her legs falter, trying to close, but I nudge them open. “Did I tell you you could close your legs?”

  “No, sir,” she whimpers.

  “Try again. What does this pussy need?”

  “Your cock, sir.” Her body shudders at the touch of my fingers. I splay them across her belly and move closer, perching myself right in front of her. The tip of my cock touches her entrance, her moistness making it bob up and down. Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside her.

  “Please … I want your cock inside me,” she whisper-moans.

  I smile. “Such a little slut. I guess I should be nice and give you what you crave so much.” I push inside her, slowly. Air escapes her mouth in the form of a deep moan, almost making me explode this instant. I keep it together and dive further in until her pussy is at my base. My cock pulsates against her flesh; feeling her warmth envelop me is making me crazy with lust. But I’m not content with my work yet. I want to hear her screams before I’m ready to permit her to come and take my load.

  So I pick up the belt and fold it. Her eyes flicker open and widen at the sight and sound. She shakes her head, worry settling in her eyes.

  “You will learn to love the pain,” I say. Then I strike her tit with the softer end. Her squeal is accompanied by a moan when I thrust in and out of her again. The belt leaves a nice red mark on her skin. I intend to make it last. I want her to look at herself and see who she belongs to. Who she’s always belonged to. Who she gave herself to the moment she decided to seduce me. My mistake was loving her. Her mistake was inviting me in. We both should have known better than to play with fire. And now the burning never stops.

  I whip her again, leaving a hot, searing mark on her other nipple. Her screams fill the room as I lash out, pumping my cock inside her each time she yelps. I love the sound she makes, love how her muscles contract around my cock when she does.

  “You should know I thoroughly enjoy pounding your filthy, wet pussy,” I growl.

  I’m reaching the brink of ecstasy and I want to be able to enjoy it in full. So I throw the belt away and hold onto her legs while fucking her madly. Her body moves to the rhythm of my thrusts, her red and swollen tits bouncing up and down. Her face shows mingled gratification and unease, and it’s a beautiful disparity. I want to see more of it.

  Placing one hand on the bed beside her head, I wrap the other around her throat. She coughs as I plunge into her. I lean down to
kiss her and steal her breath away. I want her on the verge of coming to an orgasm before I release her. Pain and pleasure aren’t mutually exclusive; they’re intimately woven and, when released, cause powerful euphoria.

  As I tighten my grip on her neck, I lean in and lick her lip. “Come for me, little slut.”

  I fuck her hard and fast as she sputters out air. “Come,” I command. “Now.”

  Her eyes strike me as they open wide. Her mouth opens in a perfect O, and her brows scrunch up. Air stops flowing through her, a silent moan on her lips. And then the convulsions begin.

  Her body rocks against me, her pussy fluttering with desire. Her muscles clamp around my cock and pulsate. I can feel her coming with every pore in her body, see it in her beguiling eyes. “Yes, milk me,” I say as I pump inside her. The moan that escapes her mouth when I release her from my grasp sends me over the edge. Grabbing her legs, I arch my back and shoot my load into her. My cum fills her to the brim as I thrust twice more, letting go of the primal need that’s been haunting me for days on end.

  Lying down on her, I pant like an animal who just finished off a kill. Her chest is warm and soft like a pillow. I could rest my head and fall asleep if it were safe. But I know we don’t have much time. We have to get away from here as soon as possible. They found us at the diner, so there’s no telling when they’ll find out about this place too. I won’t take the risk. One of the other hotels I go to will have to do. Besides, if I am to continue with my plan, I must get closer to his location. It’s a few states away. Might as well make the trip now instead of later.

  I take the cuffs off her wrists and look at her. Her eyes glisten and their beauty draws me in. She is a goddess, and I’m the wretched being that takes everything from her. For a moment I wonder if she takes any pleasure in this at all. I don’t even know why I care, but I do. Maybe there is a hint of my soul left inside this tainted body.

  Her hands lie splayed on the bed, unmoving, even though she is free. She could fight me. However, she doesn’t, which surprises me. I lean in and steal a kiss. My lips linger on hers. I can’t take them off. I’m addicted to her taste.

  “Tell me …” I murmur, taking my lips off for a second. “Did you enjoy this?”

  “Yes, sir,” she replies like a puppet well trained.

  “No … do you really enjoy this?” I ask. “You must tell me the truth.”

  Her lip quivers against mine as I let my lips reign free on hers again. I shower her in tiny pecks, nipping at her bottom lip, leaving suction marks on her skin. She shivers.

  “Answer me,” I say, not demanding, but soft.

  “Maybe.” Her answer comes out hesitantly.

  “Why?”

  She sighs. “This is … dark. Hard. Painful.” Her lips stop moving, but I can tell there’s more she wants to say.

  “And?”

  “Mind-blowing … relief.”

  I smile. “So you do find release in this.”

  She frowns and pulls her eyes away from mine.

  “Admitting you want to be claimed is hard, but you did it before. You’ll do it again. This is who you are. A fighter who loves to be taken and made to submit.”

  I press my lips on hers, seeking her attention with my eye. She looks at me and starts kissing me back. It’s the first time she allows herself to feel me. To really let my mouth conquer hers.

  I devour her mouth, taking more and more. I can’t stop. My mind is consumed with lust, my lips craving more and more of her. But then her hands slowly slide up my spine, enveloping me in her warmth as she wraps her arms around me and kisses me back. She wants me as much as I want her. Her body acts on its own, demanding more of me as her fingers grasp my head. I feel her. Her naked skin against mine. Her fingers splayed on top of my skull, touching the scars on my head. Anger doesn’t rush through my veins. Instead, I feel empowered. Her embrace heals the scars left on my soul.

  I realize now that she is not the only prisoner in this room. She has stolen what’s left of me.

  I must not lose her. I will not accept it. After all these torturous years she’s finally mine for the taking, to keep, and I don’t ever intend on letting her go. Nobody but the person wanting her dead stands in my way. I will put an end to it all. I’ll destroy him if I must. Then she’ll be mine completely.

  “We seek the truth and will endure the consequences.” – Charles Seymour

  Chapter 19

  Jay

  Tuesday, September 6th, 2013. 07:55 a.m.

  The new hotel room is even bigger than the previous one. A king-sized bed with red linen; oak tables and leather chairs. Breakfast in bed and a skyline filled with towers. I’m a queen imprisoned in a tower.

  Every night I dream of X. I have visions of the past, but can’t remember them when I awaken. All I know is that I’ve seen him before. This man knows me for a reason. He was in my life for God knows how long, and I just can’t seem to remember. I wonder why.

  Every morning I wake up and come to the realization that I’m still here. That he never leaves, at least not mentally. Whether I want to be or not, I’m bound to him. I haven’t attempted an escape since … forever. I can’t even remember the last time. I don’t even know anymore if I still want to leave or not. My body has been chained and taken over and over again. My mind has been drifting away. The more time I spend with him the less I can see myself being alone. Soon, I’ll feel anxiety when he’s gone.

  I thought I could fight it, that I could stop it from happening, but it’s already too late. I was always too late. Like he says, I was always his.

  There is no difference between now and then. Time does not exist anymore. Only me and him, this room, my body, his cravings, pleasing him. Each reward is less pain received, and so I strive to be what he desires. A good girl. His little slut. More and more I become what I am in his mind. I can’t even remember who I was before him.

  No’s become yesses until I don’t know the difference anymore. His rule is law. I’m not allowed outside. Death is what follows when I don’t obey, I know that. I’ve seen it countless times. And I want to live.

  However, I’m not so sure anymore that I can live without him.

  X watches the television with anticipation, his fingers strumming the chair. As I sit on his lap and place my head in the nook of his neck, smelling him, I feel empty. Ridden of guilt. Not even in this world. With his hand around my waist and my naked body tucked into his, I feel nothing. I just am.

  But when the television zaps to a different channel, a glimpse of a man is all it takes to incinerate the melancholia in my heart. A big bearded man with bloodshot eyes comes into the picture, someone named Al John. The news anchor says this man had been shot in the foot and assaulted with a knife, and that he was doused in some kind of acid. But the fact that this man was tortured doesn’t shock me. Or the fact that the night he was killed was the same night X went out and came back bloody-handed.

  It’s the fact that I feel like I know this man.

  His face brings back memories of my father talking to someone just like him, instructing him to do a job. They are mere flashes, but it’s enough to know I was right. I remember this man. And now he’s dead.

  This has to be X’s doing.

  X

  ***

  Friday, October 20th, 1995

  Her father blames her for everything. All I hear is him yelling at her about why she had to do that, why she had to be friends with me, why I was even around. My parents have kept me away from her and her father ever since the accident with her mother. Even during the funeral, they wouldn’t let me speak with anyone. I’ve been standing in the shadows, watching her, waiting for a chance to finally speak with her again. Nobody will allow it, but I must try. She’s my friend.

  ***

  Wednesday, October 25th, 1995

  I’m in the hall, waiting for Father to come out and talk to me. My mother told me to stay here until they were done discussing. They’re talking about me, of course. I did someth
ing bad; I went to check up on her.

  When my father steps out of the room, my heart throbs in my throat.

  “Don’t you ever speak to her again, do you hear me?” my father says, grabbing my chin so hard it hurts.

  “Yes.”

  “You will not talk, you will not even look at her, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  He shoves me away and pats down his clothes. “You’re a disgrace to this family. Have you any idea what you did?”

  “It was an accident.”

  His hand comes down on my face before I realize it.

  My cheek stings and heats up. I place my hand on top, as if that’ll protect me.

  “It’s time you learned why you are here, who you are, and what you’re going to be doing.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “You will learn to control yourself and others. Lives are in the palms of our hands and we must decide who deserves to live and who deserves to die.” He goes to his knees and grabs my arms so tight it scares me. Narrowing his eyes, he says, “Accidents do not exist. Mistakes must be answered for. Come with me.” He takes my hand and drags me down the hall to a room I’ve never been in before. The door opens, the darkness behind it filling me with terror. A long staircase is all that’s visible. I have no idea what’s down there, except I’ve seen my mother and father go there often. They never invited me to join them, up until now.

  My father pushes me down. “You’ll see what our family does for a living, and you’ll learn to do the same.”

  ***

  Friday, April 11th, 1997

  My father presses the gun into my hand. I’m shaking from top to bottom as he raises it to point at the man on his knees in front of me. He’s pinned against the wall with nails in his hands. I saw how they struck them through and heard his screams as he begged for mercy. He won’t find any here.