Dark Rapture_A Disturbing Psychological Thriller

by Logan Fox

  Caden paused on the second to last step, eyes fixing on her.

  “Morning, Miss Buchanan.”

  “Morning,” she managed.

  Not a hallucination then. Maybe she’d fallen asleep. Caden wore a white shirt as thin as the one he’d worn last night — a Sanskrit symbol emblazoned on the front in thick black lines — and a pair of soft, shapeless yoga pants that clung to his hips. He padded past her on silent, bare feet, and rapped a knuckled against Opal’s door.

  Pearl wanted to look away, but she still couldn’t fathom why he was down here.

  Opal ripped open the door but her scowl disintegrated when she saw who stood outside.

  “Hey. What brings you to Middle Earth?”

  Caden smiled and leaned against the door frame with his hip, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “You have a scene in fifteen minutes. I hope you’re ready to go.”

  “I will be,” Opal said, turning around and disappearing into her room. “In fifteen minutes,” she called out.

  Caden shook his head, and turned that rueful smile to Pearl. He pushed away from the door with his hip and slid inside Opal’s room, closing the door behind him with a gentle push of his hand.

  Pearl faced the television again. Her head was shaking slowly from side to side.

  Was she the only one here who wasn’t a nymphomaniac? Was that how they chose the girls? Maybe they’d figured out a way to read someone’s mind and catalogue how often they thought about having sex.

  Boy, had they been all sorts of wrong with her.

  Pearl lowered the TV’s volume, straining to hear anything from behind that closed door. But there was only silence and the muted chatter of the self-righteous talk show host.

  Pearl shifted, trying to get her knees into a more comfortable position. She ran a gentle hand over her ass cheek, grimacing faintly.

  God, Greg had really done a number on her.

  Her eyes swept back to the dungeon door. When was he coming? She’d been perched on the altar for more than twenty minutes now, surely. Seth had stormed into the den to collect her an hour ago.

  She shifted again, uncomfortably aware of the sensation of her fox tail brushing against her thighs.

  Luckily, she’d remembered about it before Seth had. And, equally luckily, she’d managed to get the thing inside her without his help.

  Somehow, she couldn’t see how shoving something up your butt could be considered sexy.

  Granted, the sensation was interesting. She felt… filled. Tingly. Aware and intrigued. But awkward. Incredibly, blushingly awkward.

  How long could you keep something like that inside you? She knew about drug mules of course — but they probably practiced with enormous dildos and stuff beforehand.

  The only action she’d had in that area of late had been Seth’s finger—

  She cut off the thought before her blush could deepen. In the dungeon, her audience had an unobstructed view of her on the altar. She didn’t want them thinking she couldn’t handle this.

  She didn’t want any undue attention sent her way. She’d be the perfect pet. The most wonderful slave. A born submissive.

  Whatever they wanted.

  For the next two days, anyway.

  The doors began to open. Pearl’s heart gave a small, butterfly flutter in her chest. She stared at the doorway, thankfully remembered her Wolf’s last command to her, and brought herself up to her knees.

  She was naked, of course. And now, in this position, he would be able to see every inch of her as he walked into the room.

  Her wolf stepped inside the dungeon, his gaze sweeping through the room before fixing on her. He wore a suit again today, a gray wolf’s head mask on his head.

  Pearl’s stomach muscles tightened of their own. She kept her position, trying to ignore the constant dull throbbing on her ass.

  Her wolf came slowly near, those light brown eyes moving over her body; inspecting, weighing, considering. They lingered for long moments on her exposed sex, their weight alone spreading a warm tingle through her.

  By the time he reached her, she was already wet for him.

  “Have you missed me, princess?” The wolf’s voice drove a shiver through her.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He ran a fingertip down her thigh and along her calf, pausing at her ankle. He teased her anklet against her skin, the charms tinkling in the quiet of the dungeon.

  “I’ve missed you too,” he murmured.

  His fingers travelled up her leg, brushing over her bruised flesh.

  “I see you’ve been playing with someone else,” he said.

  Pearl’s chest grew tight. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? Yes, Master: I’ve just been spanked six ways from Sunday? But, Master: I was thinking about you the whole time?

  “Yes,” she managed, the word soft and cautious.

  “It’s such a pity,” the Wolf said. “If things were different, I wouldn’t allow anyone to desecrate you… except with my explicit permission.”

  He leaned closer. His scent poured into her nose, mingling with the rose aroma wafting from that strip of satin around her throat. His lips touched her ear.

  “While I watch, of course,” he whispered. His hand squeezed her ass, hard enough to make her gasp. “I’m not a selfish man, princess. I do sometimes like to share my toys.”

  Pearl’s eyes fluttered closed. He still hadn’t released her ass — the hand gripping her pulsed wave upon wave of dull heat through her.

  “I wrote in my diary, Master,” Pearl said.

  “And I see you’re wearing your tail, too.” Her wolf let out a low, soft chuckle. “You seem very eager to impress me. Or is it that you don’t want me to punish you again?”

  The emphasis he put on the word ‘punish’ made her moan.

  “This pet wants to please her Master.”

  With her eyes still closed, Pearl didn’t know if her announcement was met with any kind of satisfaction. She had only the wolf’s hand to go on — and at the moment it was busy teasing her sensitive skin with spider-light tickles.

  “I wanted to tie you up today, princess,” the wolf mused.

  He touched her fox tail. A tremor raced through Pearl — she could feel that slight touch deep inside her. It was so intimate, so intense, that she had to throttle another moan.

  “Master?” came her breathless question.

  “But with such ugly marks on your hide, I think my artwork would be tarnished.”

  Pearl’s heart sank into her belly. She’d never even considered what it would feel like to be strung up like Gia had, but knowing that she might never…

  “It won’t be tarnished, Master.” Pearl glanced at him over her shoulder. “Please… tie me up.”

  The Wolf cocked his head at her. Those brown eyes slid to her ass, caressing it as delicately as his fingers.

  Then he shook his head.

  “Not today. Unfortunately, it turns out I can’t spend as much time with you as I originally planned.” His offhand words and suddenly casual tone made her stiffen.

  “Have I—” Pearl began, but the wolf cut her off with an impatient flick of his fingers. His one hand was busy stroking her tail, sending quivers through her flesh, while the other began massaging her tender ass.

  “I had to see you, even if only for a few minutes,” the wolf murmured.

  Why was he acting so weird? She couldn’t tell if he was angry with her or with something external. Something she had no control over, but still wanted to somehow eradicate — if only so her wolf could stop pouting.

  “Master, can I—”

  He slid three fingers inside her. She cut off with a gasp, tossing her head back as a shudder tore through her.

  Her wolf began tugging on her fox tail, as if intent on pulling it out of her. She tightened her muscles reflexively. What the hell would happen if he just pulled it out? Heat scored her cheeks, and she thrust her hips back, trying to maintain the plug’s position inside her.


  Her wolf chuckled again, and her heart slowed. He sounded bemused now. Maybe she could still transform whatever sour mood he’d brought in here with him.

  “Grown attached, have you?” he asked, his melodious voice light and teasing.

  “It feels… better than I expected, Master.”

  “Better than this pet expected,” the Wolf corrected absently. He gave the fox tail another slow tug.

  Hot, electric tremors raced through Pearl. He hadn’t moved his fingers yet — they remained buried inside her, filling her just as the fox tail filled her.

  How would it feel if he fucked her? With that pressure, that heavy weight already inside her…

  “Master, please will you—” she stopped herself. No, she couldn’t beg him. It would be presumptuous of her. She just had to make him want it enough.

  Pearl leaned forward, sliding her palms onto the altar. She spread her legs apart, giving her Wolf a clear view of her bruised ass.

  The Wolf made a soft sound in the back of his throat. He drew his fingers out, smearing wetness over the folds of her sex as he moved around the side of the altar.

  His head was tilted to the side, his eyes hooded and intense. He watched her for long moments, his gaze flickering over her face, and then he lifted his chin.

  “What have you written in your journal?”

  Pearl froze. The journal?

  “Uh… I…”

  Her hand began fumbling, but the wolf caught her wrist, stilling her. His gaze slid down, and then flashed up to her face again.

  “You have it here?” His fingers glided over the altar’s dark leather.

  Seth hadn’t said anything when she’d brought the journal with her into the dungeon. But her handler’s eyes had kept glancing at the small notebook while he’d applied her makeup, clicked her collar into place around her throat, and stripped her of her clothing. He’d shown her a small pouch on the far side of the altar. She’d stashed the journal inside, trying not to make eye contact with Seth until he’d left the room.

  The wolf found the pouch and drew out her journal. He flipped it open, but his eyes didn’t look down. Instead, he slid it over the altar until it rested between her knees. He lay a hand over her shoulder, urging her down until she was sitting on her heels, knees wide apart, back straight.

  “Read to me,” he whispered.

  His hand trailed down to her breast, giving her a light squeeze.

  Pearl licked her lips, glanced down at the journal, and cleared her throat.

  “Today my Master gave me this journal. This is my Journal of Submission.”

  His hand skimmed over her belly. He stood beside her, less than a foot of leather-covered altar between them.

  “Today I learned that disobeying my Wolf means that I will be punished. Today I was punished. And I loved—”

  That hand glided over her clit, abruptly ending her sentence. Pearl shivered, her eyes sliding closed at the touch.

  “Continue,” her wolf said.

  Pearl drew a deep breath, forced her eyes open, and found her place.

  “When I came here, I didn’t even know what submission was. I had to be shown how to behave. I also never knew how much my Master would please me.”

  The wolf’s fingers delved inside her. For a moment, Pearl’s narration became breathless, but then she forced strength back into her words. He thrust his fingers in and out of her, almost in time to the cadence of her own words.

  “Despite everything, I love spending time in the dungeon. I never know what to expect, what will happen to me. What I will be asked to do. To prove.”

  The wolf began applying pressure to her clit with his palm, working his hand against her as his middle finger beckoned.

  “I…” Pearl interrupted herself with a low moan.

  “Read on, princess.”

  “I didn’t think I would like it. I thought I would be fighting for my independence. For my freedom. But—”

  Her body shuddered violently, her lips squeezing shut. If he carried on moving his finger like that, her wolf was bound to make her cum. She forced away another shiver and slapped her hand on the journal, using her finger to keep her place as she read.

  “But instead, I ended up craving those moments in the dungeon. It’s like I become someone else. Someone who doesn’t care about money. About bills. About…”

  She swallowed. She’d written all of this? A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she threw a furtive glance at her wolf.

  “About…?”

  Pearl cleared her throat, but she dropped her voice to a whisper. No need for anyone behind that glass to hear this.

  “About the things I’ve done. About my past, and the people I’ve hurt along the way.”

  Her saliva grew thick in her mouth. Sudden heat in her eyes, a welling of tears, made her draw a deep breath as she blinked, determined not to let her wolf see those tears.

  “Maybe if—”

  The man laid his hand over the page, blocking her writing. She glanced up at him, blinking back another press of tears.

  “No regrets, princess. Remember that. Life is too short for regret, for indecision, for trepidation.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed as the wolf’s lips touched her shoulder. He drew a swathe of shivers over her collarbone and then tugged his fingers free.

  “I have to go,” the wolf whispered. “But I’m—”

  “No, Master.” Pearl turned to him, sliding her arms over his shoulder. “Please stay. Just for a little while.”

  She felt safe here, with him. It made zero sense, of course — this man could decide to tie her up and doing whatever the hell he wanted to her trussed-up body… but it wasn’t like that, was it?

  “Princess, I can’t—”

  Pearl brought her body against him, urging him against her. She could feel how hard he was for her — so why the hell was he keeping himself in check like this? He didn’t have to hold himself back — not here, in the dungeon — not when she was giving herself to him.

  He stiffened, eyes flaring wide. Then he grabbed a handful of her hair, jerked her head back, and kissed her lower lip.

  She exhaled slowly, not wanting to move her lips in the slightest. Her wolf dotted her mouth with kisses before moving onto her jaw, her throat.

  “I have to go,” the wolf whispered, but his lips didn’t pause.

  “Please.” Pearl put her lips to his ear, arching her back so her breasts were flush against the wolf’s chest. “I want to know what it feels like.”

  “There’s no time for ropes—”

  “Wearing this tail,” Pearl cut in. She grazed her teeth over the man’s earlobe. “While you fuck me.”

  The wolf let out a low groan.

  His body went stiff again, his hands stilling on the curve of her lower back.

  “Turn around,” he snapped.

  Pearl drew back, her eyes searching what little of his face they could. His brown eyes were narrow, his jaw jutting out.

  “Master—”

  “Now!” His voice reverberated in the large, empty room.

  Pearl shuffled around, throbbing with unease. Had she upset him by insisting? By saying something she’d known would make him unable to refuse her? What if he decided not to see her again? To swap her out for—

  The wolf tugged at her legs. Pearl cried out as her hip bones slammed into the corner of the padded shrine. She scrabbled, trying to keep her body on the altar. Her fingertips found the far edge, caught hold.

  A hand tangled in her hair. The wolf yanked back her head until her breath was nothing but a thin trickle of air. His other hand grabbed roughly at her ass, sending a wave of agony through her.

  Pearl moaned, writhing in an attempt to move that hand from her flesh.

  Instead, the wolf gripped harder. And then tugged her cheek to the side, opening her to him. He thrust into her — hard, unexpected — wrenching a yell from her.

  Her fingers tightened until her knuckles were starkly white against the alta
r’s dark leather.

  Sheer ecstasy.

  Her entire lower body was numb with pleasure, flickers of icy heat spearing through her.

  “Yes,” she managed, but the word was barely a whisper.

  Her wolf began moving rhythmically, slamming in and out of her at a pace that had her panting in less than thirty seconds. His grip disappeared, instantly replaced by that faint tremor of movement in her backdoor.

  He was drawing her tail in and out of her, matching every slow, determined thrust of his cock.

  Pearl groaned, trying to thrash but rendered immobile by the hand gripping her hair. All she could do was draw slivers of breath while her wolf pleasured her beyond what she’d thought possible. Beyond what she could endure.

  A climax tore through her. Sudden. As unexpected as the wolf’s first thrust into her had been. She cried out, every muscle in her body screaming at her.

  Then another voice joined her. A shout. Angry.

  Not her wolf.

  Pearl turned her head, eyelids fluttering as she tried to focus her blurry vision.

  Tanner.

  Storming over the dungeon floor.

  Face pale, spotted with flecks of red. Hair more disheveled than his usual, devil-may-care mop.

  “How dare—” her wolf began, voice tight enough to walk on.

  Pearl blinked. Her brain was still deeply shrouded in a blissful fog: thought was impossible.

  Tanner drew back his arm, hand balling into a tight, white-knuckled fist. It connected with her wolf’s jaw, that meaty thud jarring her.

  No — it was the wolf tugging free of her that jarred her. She slid from the altar, no longer able to keep herself on it.

  The dungeon lurched.

  Tanner and the wolf were at an impossible angle, the wolf rearing back as Tanner lunged for him.

  “What…” came her too-soft attempt at a protest.

  The dungeon doors burst open. Seth and Caden bolted into the room, their faces nothing but a smeared suggestion of eyes and thin-drawn mouths.

  They grabbed Tanner. Jerked him away from the wolf. Caden fended off the Wolf’s snarling lunge with a casual wave of his arm.

  Seth dragged Tanner from the room, the man’s black eyes piercing into Pearl before the door closed behind him.