Dark Rapture_A Disturbing Psychological Thriller

by Logan Fox

  “Seth?” Pearl called out. “Seth!”

  The door clanged shut behind him. Pearl burrowed her shoulders into the grate and swung her head around, the tips of her ridiculous ears catching on the cage’s roof. She slammed her hands up, trying to open the cage. Her bell jingled at the impact, but the cage held fast.

  And Seth wore the key around his neck like a fucking trophy.

  She glanced at the water bowl. Fuck it, she hadn’t been thirsty until he’d asked. Had he known? Had the fucker known asking would make her thirsty, and then she’d have to drink out of the bowl like an animal?

  Pearl’s eyes flickered right. There, a sheet of dark glass reflected a shadow-version of the world back to her. She could see herself in the cage, her tail dangling down, her ears poking through the top. She sat huddled like a shivering stray, freshly caught off the streets by animal control.

  Something moved behind the glass. A figure. A dark silhouette.

  Seth would be watching. Watching to make sure no one mistreated his kitten.

  Pearl hugged her legs closer and shivered, making her bell tinkle.

  9

  That Filthy Little Mouth

  Pearl jerked when the dungeon’s doors were shoved open, tightening the grip around her legs when she saw Seth’s now familiar silhouette outlined by the passage’s light.

  The sound of clinking metal made her strain forward, eyes slitting as she tried to make out what Seth had with him.

  Gia crawled behind him on all fours, naked, wearing only a pair of ears and a tail. And a collar of course. Where else would you tie a leash?

  Pearl’s skin tried to climb off her as the pair drew near. Another thought, dismal and acerbic, made her look back to the dark glass. Whoever had been behind the glass was still there. Watching. Caden, possibly. Except… he’d said he was too busy for a peek show.

  Gia was making small noises. Pearl turned back to her and Seth, stiffened when she saw him helping the girl onto the leather-covered altar.

  He murmured to the girl, too softly for Pearl to make out words, but Gia preened under his attention as she sank onto her heels and put her palms flat on the bench in front of her.

  The altar was wide, perhaps five feet across, and long enough for even Seth to lie on it without his feet dangling over the end. Gia’s slim body looked forlorn on the cruel, sleek fabric; her white skin too pale against its darkness, her frame too delicate, those pointed yellow ears too innocent.

  Gia’s gaze was downcast as Seth arranged her hair over her shoulders and back. She still wore her plait, but loosely braided now and dangling over her spine. Her tail was the same shade of fur as her hair, as her ears. Its tip was black to match the ear tufts. He’d painted her face too, the kohl around her eyes making her blue irises pop.

  Seth drew the leash out in front of Gia, and draped it over the end of the altar, leaving it taut.

  “Good girl,” he said.

  Gia bowed her head and let out a long sigh. Pearl’s eyes widened. With the girl’s back to her, there was no mistaking it: her tail wasn’t fastened around her waist like Pearl’s.

  The end of that yellow tail was stuck up her ass.

  Pearl shot Seth a bewildered look, but his eyes slid away from her without settling longer than a second. He turned and ambled out of the room, leaving the door less than a foot ajar.

  “Gia!” Pearl hissed.

  The girl didn’t respond. Was she awake? Sober? Had Seth drugged her before bringing her in here? What else made sense, for the girl to allow him to shove a fucking foxtail up her butt while she waited to get pounded by a stranger?

  Pearl grabbed the cage’s grating, a bar in each hand, and shook at her cage, her wrist charm jangling.

  “Gia! Are you okay? Say something!”

  Gia moved her head as if wondering where Pearl’s voice was coming from. Good God, he had drugged her.

  “Gia. Can you hear me? What did he give you? For fuck’s sake, say something!”

  The girl arched her back a little, her spine dipping toward the altar. Ecstasy? Looked like it. She was probably out for the count then. Pearl swung her head to the mirrored glass, glaring at whomever hid behind it. She bared her teeth, trying to think of the most scathing curse she could throw at him, at that shadow-man lurking there without moving or speaking.

  Another shadow joined him.

  Of course… why wouldn’t Seth want to watch while someone fucked his drugged-up kitten? Pearl rattled her cage again, struggling for words. Her stomach churned with anger, with revulsion; a bottomless pit of spite and rage with nothing to channel it.

  She caught a glimpse of her water bowl. The sight of it triggered something deep, something primal. She roared wordlessly and slammed her fist into the plastic bowl, spraying water over herself and Gia.

  Gia moaned, her shoulder muscles bunching as she thrust out her chest and tipped back her head.

  The bowl tipped, rolling over its platform of plastic mesh, and disappeared through the grate. It struck the floor below with a hollow thud and rolled under the altar.

  Footsteps. She’d been so absorbed in her futile protest that she hadn’t heard the door creak open. Hadn’t heard the wolf enter until he began ascending the dais.

  Pearl spun to face him.

  The drops of water on her body turned to ice, shadow-spiders tracing sticky webs between them to tighten her skin.

  The wolf wore a mask that left only his mouth and jaw unveiled, its muzzle set in a ferocious snarl that bared two glistening canines on either side of the man’s wide, voluptuous mouth. Large, almond-shaped eyes made from disks of glass hid the man’s eyes. The short fur covering his cheeks and forehead was slate-gray, as was his voluminous cloak. He wore a tight-fitting shirt and slacks beneath the flowing fabric. Pale gloves completed the ensemble.

  A gray wolf.

  If she hadn’t been in a cage, suspended above what looked like a sacrificial altar, with Gia high as fuck and them wearing nothing but animal-extrusions… then she might have laughed.

  Instead, Pearl scrambled back from the wolf, not caring what she exposed or kept veiled. Her shaking hands grabbed hold of the grates above her, and she tried again to lever off the gate, knowing it was ridiculous to even try. Her bell tinkled and clanked against the metal bars as she tried to force the padlock open, searching for a weak point.

  That was a mistake.

  The wolf hadn’t even been looking at Pearl. Instead, his attention had been fixated on Gia, on the kitten poised so perfectly on her slab-like bed.

  Waiting. Just waiting. For him.

  Gia mewled and pushed herself up onto all fours, welcoming the wolf with a toss of her braid.

  And he might not even have known Pearl was there if she hadn’t made such a ruckus.

  The wolf looked up at Pearl. And Pearl’s cheeks warmed. And her breath became fast and hot. The air turned sticky with anticipation as the wolf glanced behind him at the shadow-mirror and then back at Pearl.

  Smiling faintly, the wolf dragged the tips of his gray, gloved fingers over the altar as he sauntered toward Pearl’s cage.

  She had nowhere to flee. Nowhere to hide. Her previous unconcern about her nakedness returned in a flash — threefold — burning her cheeks and making her use her tail to try to cover herself.

  It kind of worked. But it kind of tickled, too.

  The wolf circled her cage, head tilting back as he studied her. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Seth and slim to boot, but the thin fabric covering his arms couldn’t disguise the sinewy muscles beneath, bunching.

  A gloved hand reached for her, for the cage.

  “Don’t touch me,” Pearl hissed.

  The wolf flinched as if she’d struck him. He glanced over his shoulder at the darkened mirror.

  “This one’s feral?” the wolf asked.

  His voice was deep and rich. Amazing how you noticed things like that when all you had to go on was someone’s shape and their voice. Was he an opera singer or something?


  There was no response from the voyeurs behind the glass.

  The wolf turned back to her. He gripped the bottom of the cage, despite Pearl’s admonishment, and dragged her a little closer. The cage began to sway, bringing the wolf near, moving him away.

  Gia mewled again. Pearl tore her gaze away from the wolf, staring wide-eyed at the yellow-haired fox as the girl leaned forward and brushed her cheekbone against the leather padding of the altar, bringing her ass into the air.

  Her tail twitched.

  The wolf tapped his finger against the cage’s bar as it swung closer and gave Pearl a look that could have meant anything, hidden as it was behind the wolf’s mask.

  He moved away from her, trailing his fingers over the altar’s surface as he approached Gia. She seemed oblivious to him, still rubbing her cheekbones on the leather — first the one, then the other — tail twitching and legs almost a foot apart. The only thing keeping her modest from Pearl’s vantage point in the cage was that quivering minx-haired tail of hers.

  “Did you miss me, little one?” the wolf asked in that sonorous voice of his.

  Gia meowed.

  Pearl’s hands were going numb where she clutched the cage’s bars, but she seemed incapable of forcing her fingers open. Cold steel bit into her thighs and ass — her cushion having gone the way of the bowl — but this was far removed from her study of poor, fucked-up Gia.

  Apparently done spreading her non-existent feline scent all over the altar — or whatever the hell the girl thought she was doing — Gia came back to all fours and began tugging back on her leash as if eager to be free of it.

  “You’ve been a good little fox while I was away?”

  Gia sat back on her heels and cocked her head at the wolf, her addled brain probably incapable of understanding him.

  “Tell me, little one,” the wolf said. “What naughty wrong things have you done while I wasn’t here to watch you?”

  “Nothing, Sir,” Gia breathed. “Gia was a good little fox while you were gone.”

  The wolf’s gloved fingers touched the sole of Gia’s foot. Her tail gave an almost imperceptible twitch in response. He glanced askance at Pearl, still swinging in her cage, and she realized he was standing to the side so she could see Gia. So she could see what he did to her.

  Her stomach contracted.

  His fingers slid up the slope of Gia’s foot, the curve of her ass, Gia’s protruding spinal column. He drew her braid over her shoulder and yanked it, bringing Gia’s head to his chest. Gia nuzzled into his shoulder and chest, murmuring unintelligible words as the wolf ran his fingers down her spine again, to the base of her tail. He let the soft minx fur slide through his hand, again glancing up at Pearl.

  “Are you clean?” the wolf asked.

  Gia promptly hoisted her ass up and placed her cheek against the leather altar.

  “Yes, Sir. You can check, Sir. Gia’s clean and sweet and wet for you, Sir.”

  The wolf came around the altar, briefly blocking Pearl’s view as he lifted Gia’s tail to inspect her. He moved aside again, holding the tip of Gia’s tail in his fingers, exposing her intimate, pink folds to Pearl.

  Pearl hurriedly averted her gaze from Gia’s sex, heat flashing into her cheeks. She’d been staring. Staring! What was wrong with her?

  The wolf dropped Gia’s tail again, bringing a soft moan from the girl. She sat back and leaned into the wolf as he came close enough for her to reach. His fingers touched the clasp on her collar that bound her to the leash. He released it, letting the collar slide with a clink to the dungeon’s floor.

  “Has my Gia been good enough for the rope?” the wolf crooned at her. He wrapped a hand around the front of her neck, pushing her away from him so he could study her.

  Gia leaned into the throttle, her eyes fluttering closed. She moaned, twisting so her upper body faced him, and pushed herself onto her knees. Her hands circled his wrist, but she didn’t try to untangle herself from him. Instead, she began stroking his arm, her body quivering.

  “Gia’s been a good girl.”

  Whatever they’d given her, it was strong shit.

  Pearl realized she was sitting forward, but whether to try to stop the creep from strangling Gia or to get a better view, she didn’t know.

  “Does Gia want the rope?” the wolf asked again, shaking Gia.

  Gia sighed at him. “Yes, Sir. Please, Gia wants the rope, Sir. Gia’s been a good fox while you were away. Gia’s been practicing with her tail, Sir, just like Sir instructed.”

  Her words emerged in a breathy ramble that made Pearl stiffen.

  “I did see, little one. In fact…” the wolf released his grip on Gia’s throat and ran his gloved fingers down between her breasts. Gia shivered and bucked her hips forward, mewling softly.

  “Yes, Sir?” Gia murmured, eyes still closed.

  “In fact,” the wolf repeated. “I might even fuck you today. Especially since your friend is so keen on watching us.”

  Pearl’s eyes flashed away. More heat burned in her, but it was spreading down her neck and chest, working hot little tendrils into her belly and thighs.

  No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for. Random sex with random strangers. That’s what she’d signed up for, right? That thought, more than what was happening three feet away from her, nauseated her.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and, after a second, slapped her hands over them too. Not watching. No reason to hurt Gia or do anything—

  “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir. I’ve been so good. I’m the best little fox you’ve ever owned. Please fuck me, Sir.” Another breathless torrent of words.

  A sharp gasp.

  “Thank you, Sir,” Gia moaned, the word breaking into another gasp.

  “You’re certainly a very wet little fox,” the wolf said. “I’ll see how well you play with my ropes, little one. If you make me happy, then I’ll consider ramming my cock into you. But just once, hear?”

  “No, Sir, please,” Gia wailed. “That’s torture. Not just once. Sir. Please.” She sounded almost hysterical.

  What the fuck was he doing to her? Pearl’s hands shook as she forced herself not to look.

  A low moan. Gia gasping.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  The wolf grunted. Pearl jerked away her hands, clapping them over her mouth instead, ready to stifle a scream of revulsion.

  But Gia was merely sucking on the wolf’s finger. Yup, he’d taken off his glove, and she had his middle finger knuckle-deep inside her puckered lips.

  What… the… fuck.

  Gia released him with a pop and sat back on her heels. Her small, perky breasts were silhouetted against the darkly-lit background of the dungeon. She’d drawn her tail over her hip and had it tucked between her legs.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  The wolf took a step back, studying Gia with that mask’s luminous glass eyes. Then he slid his own finger in his mouth. Pearl’s eyes widened. She squirmed as a flash of heat blossomed deep inside her. She began to throb, watching as the wolf drew his finger out of his mouth and stepped up to Gia again.

  He shoved his finger inside the girl with a grunt, bringing another low moan from Gia.

  “Thank you, Sir,” Gia managed, her voice tight.

  Oh. So that’s what had happened.

  Pearl shifted, gripping the irritating tail and drawing it over her hip, unconsciously mimicking Gia. The girl thrust her hips forward again, and the wolf drew out his finger. This time, he tasted it first before letting Gia suck on it.

  “Sweet as candy,” the wolf said. His head cocked to the side, staring straight at Pearl as he shoved his finger inside Gia again. “This is what good little foxes get as a treat, stray. If they listen to their owners. If they behave themselves and do what they’re told.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” Gia murmured.

  Pearl let out a shaky breath and tried closing her eyes, only to have them pop open a second later.

  “But
you can’t have your dessert before you finish your supper,” the wolf said. He reached beneath the altar and retrieved a neat bundle of thick, red rope. “Wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite, would you?”

  The wolf grinned at Pearl. His own two canines were almost as long and sharp as the mask’s.

  How had she ended up here? Owen — Mr. Fucking Armani — had been involved, of course. Him and his ridiculously expensive suit and his green eyes and his stupid, confounding business card. The silver dress hadn’t helped matters… in fact, that might have been her tipping point.

  Or had it been the night Owen had eaten white chocolate mousse off her breasts and then screwed her on his dining room table? Perhaps the contract Greg had deciphered for her? Or had it all just been as a result of her own innate curiosity? Because what did billionaires pay pole dancers like her a hundred thousand dollars to do? She’d had to find out, of course.

  Apparently, they paid her to get tied up.

  Gia shivered with excitement. Either that or she was dangerously close to OD’ing. The wolf had taken out five bundles of rope and laid them on the altar beside Gia’s thigh.

  “No moving,” he said. “And no begging or pouting. I’ll decide if you’re going to get any more special treatment today when I’m finished.”

  Gia nodded insistently at him, biting her bottom lip. He slid his foot beneath the altar. It sank down about two feet: soundlessly, smoothly. This positioned Gia just below him, so she was staring into his chest.

  The wolf unraveled one of the ropes. It had been folded in half before being wound around itself and stored away under the altar. When he released it, he was left gripping the mid-point in a loop between thumb and forefinger.

  He wound the red rope around Gia’s chest, just beneath her breasts. Then he fed the loose ends through the loop and tugged it gently to the side, so the center point was an inch to the left of her spine.

  And he did this so Pearl could see every tug, every movement.

  He was showing her, teaching her how a good fox behaved. Which was weird, because Gia seemed convinced she was a kitten with all her mewling and meowing. The wolf drew the rope around Gia’s chest again, this time over the top of her breasts. Her perky mounds popped out, her nipples hardening as the wolf brushed the loose ends of the rope over them. He’d taken off both gloves and had hiked his sleeves halfway up his arms before starting.