by Sykes, Julia
Agony awaited me in my cold prison. I didn’t want to go back there. But I didn’t dare fight my Master. The horror of the torture I would endure would only be that much more terrible if I did try to defy Him.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as His hand closed around my upper arm, but I swallowed back my despairing sobs. He had ordered me to be quiet.
He wrenched me upright, jerking me from the comfortable warmth of the bed. I stumbled as I struggled to find my feet.
“What are you doing in here?” Susan asked sharply from where she stood in the doorway, a steaming cup of coffee clutched in her small, wrinkled hand. Her stance was threatening, but she had never looked more slight and frail. Master would hurt her if she stood in His way.
“She fell, and I came in to help her up,” Master replied smoothly.
Susan’s eyes narrowed as she appraised Master, taking in His blue scrubs before studying the way that His hand gripped my arm. “All of the male staff members know to stay out of Jane’s room. And you certainly shouldn’t be touching her. What’s your name, orderly?”
Master’s fingers dug into my flesh as His muscles coiled. I couldn’t let Him hurt Susan. I knew He would punish me if I spoke without permission, but I had to try to protect her.
“Please don’t hurt her, Master,” I whispered imploringly.
Susan’s eyes widened, and she gasped as comprehension dawned. To my horror, she lunged towards us rather than turning and running as she should have. I clutched at Master’s arm in a desperate attempt to hold Him back, but He had always been far stronger than I was.
My efforts allowed Susan a split-second to punch the nurse call button beside the bed before Master was on her. There was a sickening crack as He slammed her head against the wall. Her body slid to the floor, leaving a crimson streak on the white paint as she fell.
Master cursed as He grabbed me, His hand gripping my sex roughly.
“This cunt is mine, slave,” He snarled. “You thought you could run from me? You’ll always belong to me.”
Approaching footsteps echoed down the hall. Master released me, shoving me away from Him with another curse. I dropped to my knees automatically, desperate to prove my supplication.
“No amount of groveling will save you,” He told me furiously. His boot drove into my side, and the world flickered out of existence as agony ripped through me. “I’ll be back for you, slave.” His vicious promise drifted down to me where I lay on the floor, my body curled protectively around my injury. I heard Him walk quickly away from me, but I felt no sense of relief.
“I’ll be back for you, slave.”
He was going to return. He would come back to torment me, to use me. He always did. I had to do everything I could to appease Him. Maybe He wouldn’t hurt me as badly if I pleased Him.
The t-shirt and sweatpants that I wore grated against my skin. I wasn’t allowed to hide my body from Him.
Shoving back the pain that paralyzed me, I tore at the clothes. Once I was appropriately naked, I pushed myself up onto my knees and spread them wide, exposing my cunt for His use. My hands clasped at the small of my back, and I thrust out my breasts as I straightened my shoulders. I bowed my head, staring at a spot on the floor.
I had thought the abused slave no longer existed, but that was a lie. The agony that radiated outward from my side, the throbbing of my cheek, and the tang of blood in my mouth made that all too clear. My tears burned as they rolled over my frigid skin.
“What the-? Susan!” The woman’s voice was panicked as she raced into the room.
I didn’t look up. I barely breathed for fear that any movement would be taken as a sign of defiance.
“I need help in here!” The woman shouted. Shrill beeping filled the room when she pressed the Code Blue button. “Oh, shit, shit! Susan!” Her voice was tinged with hysteria.
Susan. Master had hurt Susan. But I couldn’t go to her. The only way I could help her now was to prove to my Master that I could be good. If I pleased Him, then maybe I could convince Him not to hurt her again.
The room was suddenly cacophonous as several people stormed in. Sharp, quickly-spoken words punctuated the incessant beeping. All of the sounds swirled together to become a high, piercing whine.
“Jane!” A masculine hand reached out for me, but I didn’t recognize it. I couldn’t allow anyone but Master to touch me. He wouldn’t like that. I cringed away from the man, but I didn’t break from my submissive pose. “Someone get me a sedative,” the man barked. Seconds later, a syringe appeared in his hand.
I shook my head vigorously. I didn’t want the sting of the needle. I didn’t want the oblivion that would come along with my reward. It hurt too badly when I was denied its kiss. I would rather endure the pain of the beating that was coming than return to that state.
“Get away from her.” His voice boomed through the small space, and all of my attention honed in on him.
He was real. My new Master was real.
The whining quieted, and I realized that the sound had been issuing from my own throat.
He crouched down in front of me and placed his fingers beneath my chin, forcing my head up. His concerned eyes filled my vision, and a fresh flood of tears welled up. Only this time, they were tears of relief rather than despair.
“Tell me what happened, girl,” he ordered evenly.
“Master came for me,” I whispered. “He hurt Susan.”
His eyes flashed. “What have I told you about calling him that?” He demanded harshly. “He’s not your Master.”
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. My mind was reeling, torn between my past and present. The pain and fear that gripped me threatened to pull me under, to return me to my deadened state where nothing existed by the need to please my former Master. But now my new Master had returned to me, and my heart yearned to accept him.
Master’s gorgeous eyes regarded me carefully. “Address me properly, girl,” he commanded evenly.
“I’m sorry, Master.” The acknowledgement of his ownership centered me, and the paralyzing terror eased from my muscles. Master had claimed me. He would keep me safe.
“That’s a good girl,” he praised. “But if I’m your Master, then why are you following his rules? I ordered you not to take off your clothes without specific instructions to do so.”
Oh, no. I had disobeyed him. I trembled as I braced myself for his anger.
His hand stroked up and down my arm in a soothing rhythm. “It’s okay, girl. I forgive you. But know that there will be consequences if I ever hear you refer to him as ‘Master’ again. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Master,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“That’s enough apologizing,” he told me steadily. “Get dressed.”
He did most of the work for me, directing my limbs as he wanted them so he could more easily pull on my clothes. When he was finished, he hooked one arm under my knees and placed the other around my back, cradling me to his chest as he lifted me up.
I realized that the only person left in the room with us was the man who had been holding the syringe. Susan was gone. A pool of her blood mingled with her spilled coffee.
“Where’s Susan?” I asked shrilly as panic threatened to claim me once again.
“They’ve taken her to ICU,” the man replied. He eyed Master warily. “Where do you think you’re taking Jane?”
“You people are obviously incapable of keeping her safe,” Master said derisively. “I’m taking her into protective custody.”
Without sparing the man a backwards glance, he strode from the room and carried me out into the unfamiliar outside world. The prospect would have terrified me, but I was calm in his arms. So long as I gave myself over to his will, he would keep me safe. I didn’t have to think, didn’t have to worry, didn’t have to be afraid. Master would look after me and tell me what to do.
I stared up at him in order to avoid the overwhelming sights, sounds, and smells of the outside world. His ferocious scowl would
have been terrible to behold, but I knew his ire wasn’t directed at me.
The scent of damp asphalt filled my nostrils as we stepped out into the night, and the summer air hit my skin for the first time in longer than I could remember. The way the warm breeze played over my skin and ruffled my hair was both exquisite and disconcerting.
Master’s eyes keenly surveyed the area before proceeding beyond the threshold of the building that housed the detox facility. When he deemed it safe to do so, we crossed the short span of sidewalk that separated us from a shiny black sedan. His movements were hurried but his hands were steady as he situated me in the passenger seat.
A pang of fear made my stomach twist when he released me to circle around the car, but it soon eased when he slid into the driver’s seat and the car doors locked with a reassuring click. He wasted no time cranking the engine and slamming his foot down on the gas pedal. The speed of the moving car as we wove in and out of traffic made the lights of the city flash through the interior of the car in rapid starbursts.
Despite Master’s comforting presence, my body was going into sensory overload. Since I had been freed from my prison, I had known nothing but the small room in the clinic. Adjusting to that radical change had been difficult enough. Now I was reminded of just how big the world was outside of those confined spaces. Memories that belonged to the woman I used to be stirred in the depths of my mind. She was the one who recognized this wide world, but I couldn’t allow myself to access her awareness of it.
That woman was a wild thing, a real person with free will and independent thought. Those capabilities were beyond my realm of experience, and attempting to harness them would shatter me.
“Clayton,” Master said abruptly. “I need you to get to St. Paul’s ASAP.”
I felt a moment of confusion, but then Master continued on. “That Bastard came back for her. Fuck!” He barked out. “I should have been there.”
There was another brief pause. I realized Master was talking to his friend on the phone.
“No. She’s with me. She’s a little banged up and traumatized, but she’ll be okay. I need you to get over to the clinic to see what you can find on that Bastard. And take Miller with you. I want him in on this.”
Clayton’s voice emanated from the phone in an unintelligible, distorted rumble.
“No.” Master growled the word. “There was no sign of him. I would have searched the place, but I was more concerned with getting her out. Check the surveillance cameras and question the staff. Don’t let anyone leave that building until they’ve been vetted. The fucker hurt Susan. It looked pretty bad, but she might be able to tell us more if she makes it through.”
Pause.
“Of course I’m going to ask her what happened. But I’m not about to put her through that tonight. And no, you can’t question her. I’m taking her to my apartment.”
Pause.
“She’s not going to a fucking safe house, Vaughn,” Master snapped. “I don’t trust anyone else to keep her safe. You can come by my place in the morning if you want to argue with me about it then.”
Master didn’t say anything else; he had ended the call.
Despite the horror of what I had been through in the last hour, a small smile played around the corners of my mouth. Master was going to keep me with him. He was going to protect me. Just like that, the last vestiges of my fear melted. So long as he was by my side, I would be safe.
A few minutes later, the car stopped, and Master was at the passenger side door. He gathered me up in his arms again, and I pressed my face into his chest as he carried me, honing all of my focus on him. His rich, amber-tinged whiskey scent enfolded me, anchoring me.
There was a ping and the sensation of upward movement.
Elevator.
I shook off the recognition. Where I was didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Master was taking me where he wanted to. There was only his will and my compliance. Nothing else mattered.
He laid my body down on something soft before he released me from his firm hold. My eyes snapped open at the absence of his reassuring strength.
I was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room. It was smaller than my room at St. Paul’s, and it smelled warm and slightly earthy. It was far preferable to the sharp, cold antiseptic scent of the clinic.
Master pulled the black duvet over my body, but my skin still felt uncomfortably cool without his heat surrounding me. He stroked his fingers through my hair soothingly.
“You’ll be safe here with me, little one,” he assured me, his voice gentle.
“I know, Master,” I replied. I trusted him completely.
He smiled down at me softly. “I’ll be in the next room. If you need anything, just call for me.”
He started to pull away from me, and my hand shot out of its own accord to fist in his shirt. I didn’t want him to leave me, but I was frightened to speak out of turn.
No. That was my former ma – that Bastard’s – rule. My Master had ordered me to speak freely.
“Please don’t leave me, Master,” I begged, desperation roughening my words.
He stared down at me for a moment, his quicksilver eyes considering. Finally, he sighed. “Alright, little one. I’ll stay with you.”
I heaved in a relieved breath, and I couldn’t hold back my smile. “Thank you, Master.”
He smiled back at me, and my stomach did a little flip at the sight of his dimple. My request had pleased him. And he was happy for me to address him as “Master.” I felt as though a weight had been lifted from me with his permission to verbally acknowledge that I belonged to him.
He removed his suit jacket and tie, peeling away his civilized veneer. I loved the untamed wildness that was only thinly veiled by his professional appearance. This was how he was meant to be: his innate power fully revealed, unrestrained.
I suddenly craved for him to unbutton his white collared shirt, to remove his belt and well-fitted slacks that concealed his strong body. I wanted to run my fingers, my tongue, over every inch of him, to demonstrate my reverence for him. I wanted him to claim me in every way possible, to mark me and fully declare his ownership.
But I didn’t have permission to touch him in that way. He had told me he didn’t want anything sexual from me. I bit back my disappointment, saying nothing.
I was consoled when he settled down on the bed beside me, and I pressed my body up against his. The long days of him sleeping in the chair beside my bed were over. I could finally cling to him as I had longed to do.
He stiffened beside me, but after a moment, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, holding me against him. A warm glow pulsed to life at the center of my chest at the sign of his acceptance.
“Go to sleep, girl.”
When I was touching him like this, I could feel his deep voice rumble through me. I sighed happily and eagerly obeyed his order.
Chapter 7
Master’s warm, rough hands were running over my naked body, and something unfamiliar stirred low in my belly. His fingertips trailed over my abdomen, tracing their way upward. When they reached the undersides of my breasts, I gasped as pleasure raced over my skin, flooding my mind. I couldn’t remember having ever felt anything this delicious.
He abandoned my breasts to trace a line around my throat. There was something heavy there. The weight of it pressed against my windpipe, restricting my breathing. Fear flashed through the pleasure that fogged my mind.
I stared up into Master’s gorgeous eyes in order to ground myself. I trusted him. I didn’t have anything to fear from him.
But the light in his eyes shifted, morphing into something lustful and disturbing. Muddy green bloomed to life amidst the silver, bleeding across it until the metallic shine was consumed. My former Master’s fingers hooked through the ring at the front of the iron collar that encircled my throat, dragging my face to his.
“I told you I would come back for you, slave. You belong to me. Your cunt is mine.”
Terror flo
oded my system, and I tried to lash out at him. Manacles were secured around my wrists and ankles, spreading my body wide for his use. My side and my cheek throbbed from where he had abused me earlier. He was going to hurt me again.
I screamed out my fear. I knew I should give in to him. Everything would be so much easier if I just accepted him.
I couldn’t. He wasn’t my master any longer. I wouldn’t allow him to claim me.
But it hurt so much. His vicious hold on my iron collar was making it difficult to breathe. I gasped, but I couldn’t draw in any air. I couldn’t even beg him to stop.
“Wake up, girl.” He ordered.
Instinct drove me to try to fight him off, but my efforts were useless. I was chained down. I couldn’t move my arms.
“Wake up.” The command was sharper this time. I couldn’t refuse him.
I blinked hard.
Silver eyes stared down at me. Master’s hands encircled my wrists, holding me down. I was lying on a bed, not on the cold, hard floor of my dungeon.
“Breathe.”
I gasped in air, easing the burning in my lungs. When I exhaled, a relieved sob escaped me. It hadn’t been real. The pain in my side and my cheek was still there, but my cruel metal collar was no longer choking me.
He released my wrists and wrapped his arms around me, pulling my body up against his. His hand stroked up and down my back in a soothing rhythm. I breathed him in, reassuring myself that this was real, and my torment had been the dream.
“Master.” I whispered his title like a prayer.
“I’m here, little one,” he murmured.
I snuggled into him as closely as I could. I didn’t want any distance between us. I didn’t want to leave him, not even for a second.
“You’re okay, sweetheart,” he reassured me. “You’re safe.” He tenderly kissed the top of my head. Pleasure washed over me in response, but it was different from the pleasure I had felt in my dream. This was a deeper sense of satisfaction. I wasn’t simply Master’s slave; I was a cherished possession.
“Thank you, Master,” I mumbled against his chest.
He held me for a long time, petting me and whispering words of praise and reassurance. I gloried in it.
