by Fawn Bailey
"It's going to feel so good to be inside you," he muttered, slowly forcing his way into my ass. He was wet with my pussy juices, yet it still hurt, and the feeling of horrible pain mixed with the need to have him inside me. "It's going to feel fucking incredible, dolly... I'm going to fuck you up so good."
His hands came up to my throat and he started stroking my neck gently, his fingertips a welcome distraction to the feeling of his cock pushing into me. I relaxed against his touch, letting him caress me, letting him fuck me slowly, his cock slipping into my puckered hole until my eyes rolled back in ecstasy and I let out a broken moan.
"That's it, good girl," he muttered against my lips, kissing me with all the need in the world and drinking me down the way I had always wanted him to. "Fucking moan for me when I fuck you, my dolly. Fucking moan like that's all you were made to do."
He was stroking harder now, his fingertips demanding as they pressed down on my skin, on all the soft, tender spots that made me gasp with fear and anticipation.
"I'm going to ruin this beautiful body," he whispered in my ear, and my back arched with the dark promise he'd made me. "I'm going to make it bend only to my will, you understand, dolly? I'm going to have you on your knees and begging to be hurt... After I've pushed every limit, you're going to beg me to keep going."
"Please," I said, and opened my eyes widely. Finally, I could speak... And my body was betraying me, begging for more when I was already so far gone I wasn't sure whether I could take another moment of torture. "Please hurt me, Master... Choke me."
He lowered his fingers to the hollow of my throat and started pressing down cruelly, lovingly.
"Like this?" he asked me, his voice heavy with affection and the need to ruin me. "Is this what you need, dolly? You need your Master to fuck you up beyond repair?"
I started getting dizzy as he pressed down, my vision darkening and waning as he cut off my air supply. I sputtered and coughed, and he laughed in my face.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it, dolly?" he whispered against my lips. "You want to come for me, come apart for me. Come on, dolly. Come on. Do it. Break for me. I want you to break. I want to see you hurt from what I've done to you. Fucking break. Break for me. Break for your Master."
I tried to catch my breath but couldn't and his assault continued, demanding I give him everything my body had left to give.
"Master," I cried out. "Stop!"
"Never," he said cruelly, and then slapped me in the face, hard. "Take that, you little slut. I know you fucking love it."
I whimpered, and he kept hitting, choking, fucking. It was a sensory overload, making me close my eyes as tightly as I could and making me wish I'd never asked for any of this.
"Stop," I managed to get out what felt like hours later. "Stop it."
He looked into my eyes, seeming like a man possessed.
"You wanted it," he growled. "You fucking begged for it!"
I grabbed onto his shoulders, suddenly finding all the strength I had in me to try and push him off. But then his mouth was on mine and he took from me, and my hands fell back uselessly, unable to do anything about his relentless assault.
"Red," I whispered against his lips.
He stopped for a second, his cock halfway out of me and his lips open in a snarl. He was angry now, pissed off that I'd tried to deny him. I was frozen in fear beneath him, shivering as I waited for him to deliver the final judgment.
"What did you just say?" he asked me in a low growl. "What did you say to me, dolly? I told you it was too late. I fucking told you."
I looked into his eyes, too terrified to say it again and too needy to force myself. Had I really meant it? Would he really stop now, finally, mercifully?
He grabbed my throat, nails digging in, no kidding about it anymore. And he started driving into me, feeding my holes his cock while I screamed for him to stop. But I knew he was past the point of listening, looking like the devil as he punished me for standing up to him when I hadn't even meant it. I felt my eyes closing, my limbs growing heavy, the sharp hurt on my hip replaced by the throbbing between my legs.
"I love you, dolly," Kain whispered in my ear. "I'm only hurting you because you want it. I'm only doing this because I love you."
I whimpered out loud, but it didn't help a thing, and suddenly the vision of his face was replaced by numb, quiet darkness. I was falling and falling and falling, the sensation never stopping, the panic settling in until my body hit the ground with a heavy thud. And once it did, there was nothing but horrifying darkness all around me, and I wasn't sure whether I'd ever see the sun shining again.
Chapter Six
Kain
She passed out below me and my heart nearly burst out of my chest as I watched her eyes roll back, her body arching for me even when she was out. The second she did, I pulled my hands away from her throat, forcing myself to pull out of her and pull her into my arms instead.
Had I gone too far?
I'd had to force myself to go as mean as she needed it on her, but there was always the chance that I'd done too much - or perhaps not enough. But with my dolly constantly begging me to do so much more to her, I knew I owed it to her to at least give it a try.
But as she lay unmoving in my arms I started to question all my decisions. Her body was small, frail and unmoving, and as several seconds ticked by feeling like hours, I knew too much time had passed for her to be okay.
I quickly undid her restraints and rushed to stand behind her, trying to breathe life into her pale body. I gave her CPR the way I'd taught myself to and waited for any sign of life from my beautiful dolly. And yet, she lay there unmoving, her abused body not even shaking anymore.
I panicked. I did everything I had to, pulling at my hair and forcing off the unbearable fear until my head was clear enough to keep trying to revive her. We were alone - there was nowhere to scream for help for. There were a couple of men around the perimeter of the house, but it would take a while for me to get to one of them.
I kept trying, kept doing everything in my power while the seed of hatred planted itself in my head.
I'd done this.
It was my fault... my responsibility, for giving her something she said she wanted but hadn't really been prepared for. I hadn't listened to her safe word... I'd ruined her, taken everything that made Ophelia her own person and turned it against her. If I wasn't going to hell before, what I'd just done to my woman condemned me to a fate I deserved.
I felt cold tears sliding down my cheeks as I held her unmoving body.
"Ophelia," I muttered, leaning over her. "Ophelia, I'm so sorry. I never should have... Dolly, I'm so sorry."
And so it went on, words of apologies whispered in her ear as her body slowly came to.
First, she started to shake, and I cried out when I realized she wasn't gone. I held her gently as her eyes opened ever so slowly, looking into mine, her pupils dilating so much I couldn't see the irises of her eyes anymore.
"Dolly," I whispered, and she scrambled to get away from me.
The screaming started, one wail, another ear-piercing screech later.
"Ophelia, it's okay," I said desperately, letting go of her and putting my hands up. "It's okay, baby, I'm done, I swear to God, I'm fucking done, dolly, I'm done touching you."
Her fingers touched her wrists, her ankles, touching the spots where the rope had left marks on her pale skin. She looked back at me. What frightened me most wasn't the way she was acting, but her eyes, filled with nothing but absolute, bone-crippling fear.
"Dolly," I repeated. "I never meant to..."
She screamed again.
She raised her hands in front of her eyes and look at her dainty fingers before turning them on herself. I watched in horror as she tried to scratch her skin, nails going in deep, finding blood and drawing it to the surface. She was crying, sobbing, screaming, shaking.
I was next to her in seconds, but when I pulled her into my arms she resisted even more, rebelling against m
y body. I forced her to stay still but when I was touching her, the screaming never stopped. I'd never hated myself more than then, forcing myself to my feet and carrying her into the en-suite bathroom of the playroom.
I put her down in the walk-in shower and made the liquid rain above her in warm, wet drops running down her reddening, trembling skin.
She only screamed when I touched her. When I was just next to her, she crawled into a corner, hugged her knees and whimpered, trying to look anywhere but at me.
I watched her in horror, the reality of everything that had happened not fully sinking in as I grabbed some shampoo and body wash. I always did this after we played, and she loved it as I massaged the suds out of her hair, lathering her pretty curves in the grapefruit scented gel.
But not this time.
The second I filled my hands with the body wash, she started crying louder, staring at me in fear as if she knew I was going to hurt her next. I tried to explain, tried to convince her that I never meant to hurt her, but she couldn't even listen to it. She crawled into a little ball and every time my fingers even came near her, she cried harder.
I stood under the shower uselessly, and finally just washed my hands, stepping out onto the cold tile. The second I moved away from my girl, she stopped crying, her sobs turning into soft, scared whimpers that grew quieter and quieter as I moved farther away from her.
My heart fucking shattered.
I'd destroyed her. I'd crossed the line which I'd expected to be so much farther than where we were playing. I wasn't a monster. I wasn't a freak. I never meant to harm her like this. I trusted myself enough to know where to stop, but this time I hadn't, this time I'd fucked her up, and as I stared at her shaking, vulnerable form, I wondered whether this was permanent.
I waited until the water ran cold, then closed the shower and offered her a fluffy towel. Slowly, shakily she helped herself out of the shower, grabbing the towel from me with trembling, terrified movements. She dried herself off and stared ahead mindlessly when I offered her clothes. Everything in me cried out to help her, to pull her into my arms and reassure her, tell her I was a prick, but it was all going to be alright. But I didn't dare to do it, knowing that I would only harm her more if I tried to force myself on her. She seemed so genuinely afraid of me, retreating further and further into her mind the second I tried to touch her.
"Come here, Ophelia," I told her gently, and she looked up at me with a look so blank I wondered whether she even remembered that was her name. "Let me take you to your room."
She didn't take the hand I'd offered her, just dropped to her knees and started to crawl out of the bathroom.
"Dolly," I called out. "You can walk, don't crawl..."
She got up, standing still and waiting for her next instruction, her eyes evading mine.
Was this what I'd done to her? Turned her into a mindless toy? Was this what I'd wanted?
I was going to hurt myself for what I'd done to her, but not even plunging a knife through my heart would feel as painful as seeing my broken toy like this.
She followed me out of the bathroom, her eyes wildly dancing around the house as if it was her first time in it. I led her away through the other room, not wanting to take her through the room where we'd played and where the scent of sex still hung heavy in the air.
She held onto the wall as she followed, almost crouching as I led her down the hallway. We reached her room, the one I had put together myself, filling it with all her favorite things. Yet when she looked inside, there wasn't a look of familiarity on her face. And when she saw the cage where she slept on the floor, she whimpered, looking at me with accusatory, hurt eyes.
What had I done?
I told her it was the wrong room, hating myself every second of the way. Then, I led her into a guest room with a plain bed, plain dresser and the same vanity table she had in her old room. She walked inside without looking at me, sat down on the vanity chair with not a shred of clothing on, and took the hairbrush from the vanity table. She started to brush her long, silky hair slowly, methodically, working her way through any knots as she focused on her own reflection.
"Ophelia?" I called out, but she didn't look at me.
I felt as if I were watching a video clip of her sitting her, as if there was a dimension I had no access to in her mind. A place where cruelty and kindness didn't exist, a place where it was all replaced by the monotonous act of running a brush through long, beautiful hair.
I back away, letting the door creaked as it closed behind me. She didn't even look up for that.
I put some clothes on and ran to get help. I called a doctor who said he'd need three hours to get there, but assured me everything would be alright, she was probably just in shock. I paced the house nervously, my heart pounding as I waited for the shrink to arrive me and the news I probably didn't want to hear. I waited until the car finally pulled up in the driveway, and then I ran outside, attacking the doctor with questions as he raised his hands, pulling out his briefcase.
"I need to look at her," he said roughly. "I'll see what's happened once she's in front of me. Calm down, please. Everything's going to be okay."
"It better be," I told him darkly, and he gave me a strange look, his eyes filling with fear as he saw mine.
He nodded once, and I led him into the house where my men frisked him - got to be sure - before I led him to Ophelia's room.
I'd been too afraid to set foot in there again, but I'd placed two men outside her room to keep an eye out on her.
"Any changes?" I barked at one of them, and he shook his head, refusing to look me in the eye.
I motioned for the doc to follow me, nudging the door so it opened.
Dolly was sitting in the same spot I'd left her, still brushing her hair - now silky soft, falling down her back in pretty waves - with her eyes glued to the vanity mirror.
"How long has she been like this?" the shrink asked, and I looked at him worriedly.
"A few hours," I admitted.
"What did you do to her?" he asked me next, and the look he gave me made me feel deeply ashamed.
This was a man who had seen it all working for me - and I'd even let him down.
I stepped aside so he could enter the room, but when he approached dolly, she looked over his shoulder at me and cried out.
The doctor noticed, motioning for me to close the door. But I couldn't help myself.
I rushed inside, my eyes on hers as I knelt in front of her.
"Please, dolly," I begged. "Please, don't be afraid of me..."
The second I touched my thumb to her knee, she started to sob again.
"Get him out of here," the shrink barked at my men. "Can't you see what he's done to her?"
Two men grabbed me hesitantly, holding me just hard enough to drag me away from my woman. I felt on the verge of tears myself as they left me in the hallway, shutting Ophelia's door behind them.
At that moment, I knew things were going to change forever.
Chapter Seven
Kain
The minutes ticked by and I waited in the hallway impatiently, pacing the hardwood as I waited for the doctor to come out.
Finally, what felt like hours later, the door opened, and the doc walked out. I grunted when I saw how pale his face was, his eyes refusing to meet mine. Had Ophelia spoken to him? Had she told him everything I'd done to her? I was deeply ashamed, and yet eager to find out what had happened. I needed to know how to help her.
"What did she say?" I barked at the shrink as he started walking towards me. "Tell me everything, right the fuck now. What happened?"
"Calm down," the doc said. "Let's go sit in your study so I can explain everything."
I started walking down the hallway when the man called me back.
"You should..." he started awkwardly. "You should send someone to watch her, she shouldn't be by herself right now."
"I'll do it," I said, and he shook his head as if I understood nothing at all.
"I'm
afraid that's the last thing she needs," he said coldly, and I gave him a death glare before calling Jasper and telling him to watch my girl.
The doc and I walked into my study and took our seats. I watched with my heart in my throat as he put on his glasses and scribbled something down on a pad of paper.
"She's in shock?" I finally asked impatiently. "When is she going to feel better?"
"It's more than shock," the shrink said awkwardly. "Much more than just that, I'm afraid. I think she's had a bit more than she could handle, and sometimes when it happens, it just causes..."
"Causes what?" I barked at him, but he refused to meet my eyes.
Suddenly I was desperate. I banged my fist on the table, and he looked into my eyes, his own so worried it made me sick to my stomach.
"What can I do?" I asked.
"Nothing," he shook his head. "Just let me finish. Let me explain what's happened."
"Tell me," I said brokenly, and he sighed, taking his glasses off and folding them on the table before he started to speak.
"She's suffered something like a nervous breakdown," he admitted. "She won't speak. Doesn't really follow what's going on around her. Sometimes with fear and adrenaline, it hits the system so hard the mind retreats into a corner where it's safe. Where she is right now, there is nothing but one primal instinct."
"Which one?" I asked.
"Survival," the doc explain, his eyes boring into mine. "And right now, to her body, you are the predator."
The news sank in, leaving me feeling sick. Could it really be true? Had I really fucked her up that badly? I'd really done it, forced her back into her shell, just like she had been when she first came to stay with me.
"When will she come back?" I asked brokenly, and the doctor sighed before raising his shoulders in a useless shrug.
"I can't say," he admitted. "She needs healing, of her body, and her brain. I applied some salve to her wound, by the way."
He stared at me with despise and I never hated myself more. I remembered what I'd done, the letter K now carved into her side. How could I?
