Make Me Real

by Petra J Knox

  It’s intoxicating, and I’ve long since given up any hope of my life being any different. All I can do is manage my expectations and theirs.

  “Would you like some water?” I ask. I’m not a complete monster. Aftercare is something I don’t enjoy, but I know it’s necessary. She nods, her face wet with tears, cheeks flushed a deep red hue, almost the same as the blood smeared across her breasts. She was very brave; I have to give her that. She blinks, and fat tears drop onto my knuckles as I place the glass against her bottom lip, the gag unclipped and now balanced on her neck like some sort of kinky novelty necktie.

  Her body is stretched taut against the St. Andrews cross in my own private dungeon. It’s frivolous to have a room just for my pleasure, I know, but it’s my club, and I make the rules.

  Rule one: I don’t share.

  Rule two: Actually, there aren’t many rules after rule one. No that’s a lie, there is one rule significantly more important than the no share rule; it’s the ‘L’ rule. Never speak, utter or even think the L word.

  She blinks again, sucking down large gulps of water. Her nostrils flare with the continued need to fill her lungs with fresh air. Her chest rises and falls with each labored breath. Her firm, round breasts swell and glow with the a slick sheen of perspiration coating them. Blazing across her body like a Jackson Pollock, her once pale skin is littered with an intricate pattern of stripes, slashes, and the mottled hues of burgeoning bruises.

  It’s glorious.

  I deftly unhook the restraints, and she falls limply against my naked chest. I tense. Not with her weight but with the soft sigh she releases and the tightness of her arms secured around my neck when I lift her in my arms. She winces when I move, and pain clearly flashes through her when I lay her carefully on the bed.

  “Can I get you anything else?” The icy chill of indifference races the length of my spine, and I find myself straightening to full height, towering over her. Her response is innate, she shudders with a mix or worry and trepidation.

  “No, no I’m fine. That was wonderful. Thank you, Sir.” She lying and I let out a heavy sigh. She swallows thickly and reaches for my hand; the glance I cast makes her recoil. She’s right to be scared. I have no limits when it comes to inflicting pain. Still, even I have to draw the line somewhere. With all the tools in my arsenal, it’s my honesty that always hurts the most.

  “Then you are dismissed. Permanently.” My level tone is implacable.

  “What?” Her body curls around the impact. Her hand clutches to her chest as she lurches to sit up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. However, she doesn’t try to stand, opting instead to pull her legs against her body to hug for comfort.

  “You may remain a member of the club; however, if you approach me or attempt to contact me in any way, you will find your membership canceled.”

  “I…I don’t understand. I did everything you asked. I took…I took everything. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can.” Dispassionate and without a hint of conflict, I deliver the final blow.

  “You’re so cruel.” She sobs.

  “Life’s cruel.” It’s not a speculation; it’s a fact. Why should playtime be any different?

  “Please don’t, Eric. Please let me in. I can help. If you’d just let me, please. I…I—” She stutters and I cut in.

  “You what?” My lips curl around the sardonic snarl.

  “Nothing.” She sucks back the emotion, making her lips tremble. She bites them closed and lowers her head in resignation.

  I get a twinge of something, regret maybe. Not of my decision; that was inevitable. I can’t change who I am, and I won’t let them believe otherwise. So maybe it isn’t regret, maybe it’s despair that what I am searching for simply does not exist.

  “Good girl.” I tuck her damp hair behind her ear and immediately regret the tender display of affection when her eyes glisten with fresh tears and misplaced hope. She worries her bottom lip, swollen from biting back the pain for the last hour, before she can muster the courage to beg once more I turn my back and walk out of the door.

  That twinge wasn’t regret. It wasn’t guilt. It was self loathing.

  It would appear I am a monster, after all.

  Acknowledgments

  Penn and Blue’s story is one that I hold close to my heart, one that will always have a home there. It wouldn’t be possible, however, without my friend and fellow author, Murphy Wallace. Thank you, beautiful lady, for inviting me to play with all the other wonderful authors in this amazing collection you put together. So much love to you!

  A huge thank you to my beta readers: Deanna, Amy, Shannon. You were my everything while I wrote this book. Love you ladies! Thank you to Dani for the beautiful formatting and for all the promotional things you did with this collection. Thank you to Jay for the all the graphics in the collection and for this beautiful cover.

  And to my readers, thank you for reading and letting me continue to do what I love most. I hope you enjoyed this tale as much as I did in telling it. Many blessings to you all!

  About the Author

  A lover of cats and books, equally, Petra is an author of many genres, including co-author of the best-selling Reverse Harem series, Saving Setora. Editor, wife, and mom, she lives in the desert of Eastern Washington, dreaming of thunderstorms and rolling, green pastures.

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