“I’m begging you,” I plead, choking on the words. “I’ll do anything.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes,” I gasp. I turn to look at him, but his hand snakes out and crushes my face to the floor.
“Don’t look at me!” he yells. “Never look at me!”
The beast stands and begins pacing around me again, like a shark circling its prey. I close my eyes tight, praying I haven’t doomed Gavin’s life as well. He keeps moving around me, until slowly, his breathing begins to settle and his footsteps begin to fade, until he’s silent again, just standing near my head.
“Alright, Ava,” Shayne says, his voice that deep eerie quiet that has me trembling harder. “I’ll make another deal with you. You don’t deserve another chance, but I’ll give you one.” He crouches down and pulls my hair out of my face, so he can see me. “You give me your word that you’ll do everything I say—and I mean everything—from here on out, without question, and I’ll let him live. If I tell you to come, you come. If I tell you to get in that crate, you get in that crate. If I tell you to get me the whip, you get me the whip. But if I have to tell you something twice—he’ll pay, one way or another. Got it?”
I nod without hesitation, the tears bleeding down my cheeks.
“Who knows,” he mutters. “Maybe this will teach you how to keep your word.”
Shayne starts petting my hair, slowly, like he’s petting a dog.
“Alright, Ava,” he says, his voice so soft now it’s almost a whisper. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You like it when it hurts? Well, I’m going to hurt you, baby. I’m going to hurt you in ways you can’t imagine. I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I’m a bit of a sadist. I would’ve tried to keep that side from you, as much as possible anyway, but after what you’ve done to me, I think it’s only fair I get to turn the sadist loose, you know, take it to a whole other level. It’s not something I’ve ever done before. Oh, I’ve forced girls, been rough with them, but I haven’t really let go with anyone. But I’m going to let go with you, Ava. You’re going to see the deepest, darkest side of me, because that’s what you’ve unleashed.
“And as you can see, I’ve set us up a little room here. Some of those things over there in that cage, I don’t even know how to use. I just bought whatever caught my eye online. And there’s some crazy shit out there, let me tell you. But I’m going to learn, my little Ava, and you’re going to learn with me. It’s just you and me, baby. From here on out.”
I wonder for a moment, if I’ll wake up and find out this is all just a nightmare. But I know that’s silly. That’s little girl talk. Because the beast over me is real. The fear inside me is real—so real I can smell it, taste it, feel it pumping through my blood, seeping to every part of me.
Shayne’s hand drifts from my hair, to along my shoulder and down my back. “So, where shall we start, hmmm?” He runs his fingers over my old cuts—scabs now—and around the brand. “I was thinking about taking the Cat O’ Nine tails to you, you know, in honor of that day on the playground. It’s the black whip on the right side over there, the one that’s got the nine strips hanging off with the little metal beads at the end. The Cat for short,” he says, like a teacher teaching a student. “But…I think I want to let your skin heal first. I want a blank canvas to start with. A clean slate so to speak.”
I try to swallow down the rock in my throat, but it won’t leave. His fingers move back up to my shoulder and on to my breast. I close my eyes when he takes my nipple between his fingers and tugs.
“I think instead, I’ll focus my attentions here,” he says. “Fuck, you have perfect tits, you know that? So plump and firm and just the perfect shape. I like the curve here, the underneath part, where it’s so full. And, Christ, these little pink nipples? I want to lean down and bite them off so bad, it’s making my mouth water.” He gives a tight pinch, causing me to whimper, then let’s go and points to The Cage. “See that dark grey chain hanging on the inside of the door, with those clamps at the end? Go get me those. And grab that black blindfold too.”
It takes all I have to climb to my feet and walk to what I know will be a place I visit often. I open the door and take the chain between my trembling fingers, and the blindfold, then turn around. The beast stands by the black metal X now. He motions with a finger to come to him. I keep my eyes down and move my legs, one by one. They feel wobbly, taking me someplace I don’t want to go. When I get to him, the first thing he does is slip the blindfold on me, and I know it’s so I can’t see his face.
The world goes dark, and in some ways, I prefer it. In other ways, it’s terrifying. I won’t see what’s coming.
I’m still holding the chain when Shayne moves me so the cold metal X is at my back, then he shoves his knee between my legs, and lifts up until I’m off the ground, straddling his thigh.
“Arms up,” he orders.
I can barely lift my arms for the fear that’s making me weak, but he takes them one by one and gets them the rest of the way and fastens my wrists in thick leather bindings that he pulls tight. “This is called a St. Andrews cross,” he explains, pulling his leg away, so I hang from my wrists now, then moves on to fasten my ankles. “Named that because Saint Andrew is said to have been martyred on one just like this. Turns out he didn’t think himself worthy of being crucified on the same type of cross as Jesus, so he came up with this little gem. Found that out on Wikipedia. Strange. You can find the damndest things there. And this one’s special too. I can make the X wider, rotate it so it lays you back. Turn you around. I can set you up however I want.”
I feel the air shift when he stands up. He’s quiet now, and I know he’s looking at me, at my body—my body that’s stretched too tight, too open. He takes the chain from my hand and dangles it near my ears so I hear the jingle.
“These are called nipple clamps,” he says. “Not too hard to guess what they’re for. These ones are a bit nasty compared to the others I saw. They have little jagged teeth on the inside of the pinchers. And when you tug on them, the clamps tighten down. Hear they’re a bitch when you yank them off.”
I turn my head away and my lower lip begins to quiver. When I start to cry, the beast comes in close and strokes my cheek. “Shhh, Ava. You like it when it hurts, remember? But I’ll give you some pleasure to go with it too, don’t worry.”
I gasp when he takes my nipple in his mouth, sucking and sucking until it turns hard. Then he moves onto the other one.
“Okay, now hold real still while I get these on you,” he says.
I brace, then cry out when a sharp, unyielding pressure crushes my nipple like a vice, first my right, then my left.
“How does it feel?” he asks, sounding intently curious.
It hurts. It hurts so bad, but I don’t answer. I can’t. All I can do is shake my head from side to side. Then I feel a sharp tug, and shriek.
“Wow,” he mutters. “Effective.”
The chain slaps back against my skin, then I hear the rustle of clothes. It’s followed by the slow building rhythm of his breaths, and low throaty groans that make me realize he’s stroking himself.
The world explodes in pain when he tugs on the clamps again. I cry out and he groans louder, feeding off my pain.
He drops the chain again and I feel a sharp pain between my legs. It takes me a second to figure out he’s pulling at my pubic hair. “I want this gone next time I come for you. You don’t have much here, but I want you bare. You’ll always be that little girl on the playground, and that’s how I want you. Understand?”
I nod, then he yanks out a few hairs and I yelp.
“Just to make sure you remember.”
I turn my head away, tears seeping through the blindfold, my breasts burning like they’re on fire. My mind tries so desperately to block him out, but he’s there again, his fingers, sliding between my legs.
“Damn, you’re wet, baby,” he whispers. “I’d like to think you’re all hot and bothered for me, but I know it�
��s not that. You can be scared too, and your body will do this. It’s a way of protecting itself.” He chuckles. “You’re impressed I know that, aren’t you? Yeah. I’ve been studying, Ava. Taking this seriously. Like I said, ‘Going to take it to a whole other level.’ So I’ve got to know your body, don’t I? Like a musician has to know his instrument. Got to know it, so I can play it, make it do things. Things like this.”
He moves slowly, spreading my juices back and forth, teasing my nerves with a pleasure I can’t escape. His fingers dip inside me, then back around that nub, then sliding back inside. I don’t want this. I don’t want this. But my mouth falls open, and my whimpers turn to moans.
That’s when he yanks the clamps off.
My scream is so loud, it rips my soul in two. A new stream of tears gush down my face. He closes his mouth around my nipple and sucks, coaxing back the blood, making me hurt all over again. I’m gasping when he moves onto the other nipple.
Then he does it all over again. And again. And again. Until my screams are nothing but a rasp and I feel blood trailing down the underside of my breasts.
He suckles on me, tearing at my flesh with his teeth to get more of the red milk. It feels like I’m being eaten alive, like my breasts are being mauled by a wild animal with sharp teeth.
When he’s gotten all he can from me, he undoes my ankle bindings from the X, and lifts them up and links them to where my wrists are attached. My body’s folded in half, and so damn vulnerable. He doesn’t even wait, just sinks up inside me.
I shriek from the invasion, from the thick mass of flesh that stretches me so wide I can hardly breathe.
He stills for a moment—a long moment—doing absolutely nothing, and I don’t understand. He’s quiet, so quiet, except for his harsh breathing. Then I know what he’s doing. He’s trying not to come. A minute passes, and I have a good idea of what he’s been thinking about, because he lets go a shout of rage that shatters my mind.
He hauls back, then shoves his flesh into me so hard that I wonder if he just broke me inside. I scream from the impact, then again and again, as he repeats that hard, brutal thrust of his hips, over and over. He’s thrashing about inside me, hurting me so deep. I feel his every ridge, feel the rake of his tip as he pulls out, only to stab it back in as hard as he can. The cross shakes, my body shakes, the monster so far gone. It goes on forever, until he sinks his teeth into my neck, breaking skin once more, and comes with a roar.
He rests his head in my neck, his heavy breaths a torture against my ears, his scruff like sandpaper against my skin. Whimpers leave my mouth, the pain still so strong inside me. He finally begins to pull out, and I think it’s over, but he pushes it back in.
“I want more,” he groans. “But I want your other hole now. My hole.” He’s already hard again by the time he slips out of me, spits, and begins pushing up into that other place, slowly forcing his way inside while I scream and cry. He didn’t warm me up this time, and I tear again. Then he takes me. Longer. Harder. It’s a lifetime later when he comes, brutal and ruthless, as though trying to force every bit of himself inside me. Finally spent, his flesh slides out of me.
I’m so exhausted, my chin falls to my chest.
He undoes my bindings, ankles first, then wrists, supporting me so I don’t fall, then carries me to the mattress, lies me down, and slips off my blindfold. I curl up on my side, away from him, wincing when my arms press against my breasts.
Shayne sits down next to me, his hand on my hair again, petting me when he says, “When you wake, you shower and clean up good, so you’re ready for next time. Everything you’ll need is in there. Got it?”
I manage a nod.
“What else are you going to do for me?”
“Shave,” I whisper, my voice so broken I wonder if he heard it. But I know he did, because he says, “That’s right. I’m going to leave you a razor for that—and for your legs and under your arms too—but if you use it for anything other than shaving…” He leaves the words hanging for a minute. “Then I’ll consider that as good as breaking your word. And you know what that means, don’t you?”
I curl my hands up tighter under my chin, and nod again.
“Alright. Sleep now. I’ll be gone when you wake up, but don’t worry, I got cameras set up, so I’ll be with you, even when I’m not here.”
He stays there a little while longer, petting me while my breathing slows and my tears dry. I try to think of green eyes, but my mind is useless. Done. Nothing but a black hole.
I hear his soft voice drift again. “You kept your word tonight. Ava. Let’s see if you can keep it up.”
After a bit, he leaves me curled up on the mattress, and shuts and locks the door behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ava
When I wake, I can barely move. My eyes feel heavy, my body broken. Slowly, I blink, that dim light still hovering above me. I just want to keep lying where I am, and pretend I don’t exist, but there’s a pressure on my bladder. A pressure I can’t ignore.
I cry out when I roll over to the edge of the mattress, then manage to stand. I keep my eyes down, trying to ignore the dark, grey world around me. In the bathroom, I avoid the mirror and collapse on the toilet. That’s when I remember there’s no door in here, and I remember the cameras too. I close my eyes and try not to think about where they might be. Instead, I hear his words. ‘Shower and clean up good, so you’re ready for next time.’ Then I remember the other thing he made me say. ‘Shave.’
The tears are falling when I flush and stand, then turn on the shower. My eyes graze over sienna tiles and a stone floor, over chrome fixtures and a pretty vanity, things he couldn’t really change. It’s all lost on me though. All I see is darkness.
A new kind of pain strikes me in the shower when the water runs over my nipples, then my brand, which still hasn’t fully healed. I cry out, sobbing by the time the pain begins to settle. But the sobs don’t stop. Because it’s the pain on the inside I can’t get past. My mind feels like it’s falling into nothing, knowing what’s ahead of me, but then I think of Gavin. His green eyes. His smile. His touch. And while those memories make the pain on the inside grow even deeper, the strength inside grows with it too.
For him.
Everything I do in here will be for him. And that’s what has me reaching for the razor. That’s what has me shaving and getting cleaned up good like I was told. It’s Gavin that has me brushing my teeth and drying my hair while I try not to look at my bruised face and weary eyes.
When I walk back into the room, I zero in on the closet, because there’s nowhere else to escape it all. The light above me has no switch, something I figure he wants kept on so the cameras can see me.
I head to the closet and curl up in the far dark corner, like I did last time. I’ve only been there a few minutes, when I hear the click and start to tremble. The door opens and I see him walk in. I wonder how he knew I was ready for him, but then I remember the cameras.
He moves past the closet, a face I barely recognize, except for the black hair, raked back, like always. He’s dressed in all black again, only this time wearing a shirt. and carrying things I can’t make out.
He disappears for a minute, and I hear things being set up, then I flinch when I hear his voice.
“Come,” he orders.
For him. Do it all for him.
I get myself up this time, and walk into the room with eyes down, but off to the side, I see what he was carrying—a folding chair he’s set up at the end of the bed, with a tray table next to it.
When I get close to the beast, he points to the floor. “Hands and knees.”
I do as he says, and stare at the cement while my hair hangs down around me.
“This is how I want you,” he says, “every time I come in here. As soon as you hear that lock turn, you get your ass over here and wait, just the way you are now. You should be in place before I get to this spot. Understand?”
I nod.
He takes in a
breath and crouches down near my head. “I’ll accept that, Ava,” he says. “Consider that a show of mercy, and be grateful for it, but if I ask you a question that requires more than a yes or no answer, you’ll speak up. Got it?”
I nod again.
He stands and begins pacing back and forth in front of me, moving slowly. “I’m going to give you some rules,” he starts, “so you know what’s expected of you.” He sounds so strange, so off, like he’s nothing more than a strict teacher talking to a pupil on the first day of school. “I’ve come up with a handful for now,” he goes on, “and I know more will come up as we go along, but this will get us started. You already know not to look at me. I think I made that point clear. You’re also not to speak unless spoken to, and you’re not to call me by my name. Ever.
“Next, I noticed you didn’t eat anything earlier. I know bread’s not exactly fine dining, but you’ll eat between our times together. And I expect you to finish the loaf of bread I give you every week, and to drink water. I also expect you to keep everything clean, including the bathroom, all the equipment out here, and anything I use on you. I’ll leave some supplies for you under the sink and will keep everything stocked in there, but if you start to run out of something, you bring it out here and put it next to you so I can see it.”
He crouches down next to me and pets me again in that soft way that has me trembling harder. “Got all that?” he asks.
I nod.
“Good girl.”
He stays there, his touch moving to my arm, where he caresses me gently. “I know you’re scared, Ava,” he says, “as you should be, but I hope you know I’m trying right now. I’m trying so hard to keep myself calm. I won’t always be able to, I know that, so enjoy it when you have it.” He strokes my arm a little longer, then stands and steps back. “Alright. I want you on the bed,” he orders. “On your back, and facing away from the wall.”
Tragic Beauty Page 14
