Why had he kept it all? He remembered the sweater he’d bought for Sara just… before. He’d stubbornly bought it in the size she’d been before the wasting, before she’d become the wan, sunken-cheeked wreck the heroin had reduced her to.
“No,” he whispered.
He hadn’t known. Yet he’d kept all of it. Why? Was it some sort of totem he hoped would lead her spirit back to him? Was it denial? Was it premonition? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sara was gone, that the scum who trafficked in the shit had taken her from him, deprived him of his one chance at a life. It was done. All of it.
And yet, less than a hundred feet away, was a woman who’d wormed her way into parts of him he thought he’d walled off forever. A woman who was also a part of the grotesque machinery that had chewed Sara up and spit her out. The same woman who’d invaded this last vestige of happy memory, of the life torn away.
The woman who dared make him think about… what might be.
Oh, Lily girl, you’re in trouble.
* * *
“Get up.”
My mind was foggy, the dream slowly fading as someone shook me.
“I said, get up, bad girl.”
At those last two words, my eyelids flew open. Lake’s big hand shook me again, pulling the blanket from me, and the moment I saw his face, his eyes, I knew he knew. I knew he’d seen what I’d done.
“I could have kept you bound,” he began, hauling me to my feet.
“Lake, stop…”
“But I was being nice.”
“Nice? Nice by keeping me locked up? What are you doing?” Panic rose in my voice as he dragged me by the arm to the door. “No!” I grabbed hold of the doorframe. “No! I’m not going back to that room.”
I knew what he intended; there was only one thing.
“Oh hell, yes, you are,” he said, and, without hesitating, he shifted his grip and, in the next moment, I was slung over his shoulder and his big hand came down hard on my too recently punished ass.
“Owww! Let me go. You’re fucking crazy, Lake. Let me go!”
“What did you think you’d find, anyway?” he asked, walking through the living room and opening the front door all while I pounded on his back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me go!”
It was dusk as he walked me across to the bad girl’s room. He’d left the door unlocked and pulled it open. As soon as he stepped inside, I gripped the frame with both hands, refusing to let go.
“Please stop this, Lake. I haven’t done anything. I swear. I haven’t done anything.”
“No?” he asked, turning, prying my fingers from where I held on for dear life. “No?”
Once inside, he carried me directly to the bed and set me down on it, the contact making me flinch. I glimpsed the strap hanging nearby.
“Please, Lake, I swear. I haven’t done anything,” I said, tears already beginning to fall as I took in the room, the open drawers, the suitcase.
“Give me your hands, Lily.”
I felt the hope drain out of me when I saw the photograph with its cracked glass on the dresser. I looked up at him. He wasn’t even looking at me, not at my eyes, at least. He was too far away.
“Please, Lake. I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
“Your fucking hands, Lily!” he snapped, making me jump.
I held them out to him.
“Who was she, Lake?” I asked as he re-bound me. “Your wife? You’re wearing a wedding ring in the photo. Where is she now?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Did she leave you? Did you scare her away? Is that it?” He lifted me up to hook my wrists high enough over the bed that I was forced to kneel with my arms stretched overhead. He then tore the T-shirt I’d been wearing from me, stripping me so I was naked once again.
Why I didn’t stop there, I don’t know, because he still wouldn’t meet my gaze. Fury came off him in waves, a hot rage too raw, too fresh, burned like an inferno in his eyes.
He wouldn’t speak to me; he wouldn’t even look at me.
“Did you hurt her, too?” I finally blurted out when he had reached the door.
He stopped then. For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat, the whirlwind of my thoughts until he finally looked at me. The glare with which I was met turned my blood to ice. He picked up the duct tape and tore off a piece, stalking toward me, filling me with terror. He gripped the hair at the back of my head and yanked it back, hurting me.
“Are you going to shut the fuck up or am I making you shut up?”
I only stared at him without speaking, without even opening my mouth, hoping it was enough of a message that I’d be quiet. After a few moments like this, he balled up the piece of tape.
“She’s dead. She died because of people like you. Like your father. She’s fucking dead, Lily,” he said, his eyes now as red as mine, shiny with unspent tears. “Satisfied?”
He held me like that for a long moment, and we simply looked at each other until a tear slid down my cheek. Without another word, he let me go, turned, and walked out the door, leaving me in the dark room alone, cold and afraid.
I laid my forehead against my arm, and as if the heavens were sympathizing with me, I heard the first roll of thunder moments before a heavy rain began to fall, pelting the roof, the one darkened window. I tried to focus on that sound, tried to lose myself in it. But there wouldn’t be any of that for me today.
Lake Freeman had been married. He had loved his wife. I could see that even now and his pain over her death was still raw. I wondered how long ago she’d passed away and knew from what he said that the cause of death was drugs. This was an impossible situation. Impossible. He’d punish me now for causing him pain, and, in a way, I wanted him to because as stupid as it was, as little sense as it made, I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to cause him pain.
* * *
I alternated between standing and kneeling to ease the strain on my shoulders and arms, willing him to come back and punish me just to be freed from my bonds, but when I heard the key slide into the lock, I stiffened, eyeing the strap, fearing his fury.
His footsteps were heavy as he walked inside. I turned my head just a little, not wanting to make eye contact, and I watched as he patiently and with great care repacked a few pieces that he’d taken out of the suitcase and zipped the thing. He then rose and took that as well as the photograph, out of the room.
I heard the sound of him opening the door of the truck and panic set in. Was he going to leave me here like this? He slammed that door shut and opened another. When I heard him start the engine, that panic reached a whole other level.
“Lake!” I called out, watching as headlights moved along the forest floor. “Lake! Come back!” Again I tried, knowing he wouldn’t hear me over the sound of the truck. There was no way. When I heard him switch off the engine, I felt relief. Relief. Bound as I was, awaiting his wrath, his punishment, I felt relief that he wouldn’t leave me.
If that wasn’t fucked up, I wasn’t sure what was.
“Lake?” I asked, my voice more quiet this time. I watched the open door, using the headlights of the truck to see any movement in the otherwise dark room. It was a moment, but soon, his form shadowed the doorway and I exhaled. “My arms, Lake. They really hurt.”
“I imagine they do,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
“I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. You know that, right?”
He walked inside and this time, closed and locked the door behind him, switching on a light. Something in his eyes was different now, not hard so much as hurt. Hard might have been easier. I could hate him then.
“Lake?” I asked as he moved closer. “What are you doing? Are we leaving?”
“Not leaving yet, Lily,” he said, setting a bottle of olive oil on the nightstand. He reached up to check my bonds.
“They hurt,” I said.
“Mmm.” He checked the second wri
st but left me bound and went to lean against the wall instead.
“Lake?” He remained as he was, staring at me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thinking about your ass, how raw it is. How much a fresh strapping would hurt, possibly break skin.”
“Please don’t use the strap on me again. Please, I said I was sorry and I am. I really am. I’ve been good. I didn’t know, Lake. I really didn’t.”
Instead of speaking, he reached for the strap and took it from the wall.
“Please Lake!” I called out, twisting my bottom away from him as much as I could. “Please don’t whip me. I’ll do anything. Anything. Please!”
He stood looking at me, his gaze stone. He tested the strap against his thigh, making me jump.
“Turn around, Lily.”
I shook my head vigorously, rising up on my feet now, yanking at my bonds in a ridiculous effort to free myself.
“Get back down on your knees and turn around, ass to me,” he said, testing the strap again.
“Please, don’t do this. Please,” I begged, kneeling again, wanting to show him that I could submit, that I would submit, hoping for some mercy from him. “I’ll do anything, please Lake,” I said, not quite giving him my back fully.
He considered me for a moment then set the strap down.
I exhaled, my body relaxing a little. “Oh, thank you. Thank you.”
“You may not want to thank me just yet,” he said, reaching to undo my bonds. But instead of taking them off, he unhooked them from the higher ring and attached them to a lower one, one that had my forearms resting on the pillow of the bed so that in my kneeling position, I was crouched down with my face inches from the bed and my bottom high in the air. “Keep your head down, ass up,” he said, taking the lid off the bottle of oil.
“What are you going to do?” I asked, some part of me already knowing what he had in mind as he climbed up behind me and settled between my knees. I remained still, my head down, my knees wide, my ass up, as he had instructed. The first drops of oil sliding down the cleft between my bottom cheeks had me closing my eyes even as my pussy leaked, my clit throbbing in anticipation.
“There are so many ways to punish disobedience,” he said, pouring more oil. “Endless, really.” I heard him unbuckle his belt then take his zipper down. I dared turn, looking first at his cock, then at him. He was watching me and he kept watching me as he poured a generous amount of oil onto his palm and began to coat his cock with it. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. His cock, thick and hard and entirely too big, stood ready, the tip of it brushing one buttock as he dripped more oil onto my ass.
“I’m not sure that’s only the oil slickening that hot little cunt of yours, Lily,” he said, his attention on my sex for a minute before returning to my face. Holding my gaze, he brought one finger to my back hole. “But it’s not that cunt I’m interested in tonight.” His greased finger pressed against my bottom hole and with the olive oil as lubricant, it wasn’t long before he penetrated the tight ring.
I gasped.
“No, tonight, I think I’ll fuck this little virgin asshole of yours.” He pressed farther and my muscles all tightened. “So many ways to punish bad girls,” he said, twisting his finger inside me then pulling out and pressing in again, smearing oil inside me, readying me to take his cock.
“Please…” I begged, but for what, I wasn’t sure.
“Please fuck you? Is that what you want to say? Please fuck my ass, Sir, is how that should go. Try it for me.”
I shook my head, holding my breath when he pulled his finger out, poured more oil onto it and, adding a second finger, pushed in again, too hard, too fast, the intrusion burning from the inside.
“It hurts,” I managed, my eyes watering, wondering which was worse, the strap or this.
“An ass fucking can be very pleasurable,” he said, thrusting once more with his finger. “But it can make for one hell of a memorable punishment too.” With that, he pulled his fingers out and gripped my hips hard, pulling my bottom cheeks wide. “I’ll give you a hint, though. If you bear down and push against me, it will go easier on you. And I won’t lie to you. This will hurt you much more than it will hurt me.”
“Please don’t, Lake,” I squeaked, trying to pull away when he pressed the head of his thick cock against my back hole. “Please not there.”
“You had no right to go through my things,” he said, ignoring my protests, pushing his cock against my resisting back hole until finally, between the oil and the pressure, it opened to take him, the wide head of his cock stretching my asshole too fast, calling a cry from me.
“Don’t do it, please,” I tried again, but he ignored me, his thick cock pushing through my resistance, burning me. This was happening. He was going to fuck my ass to punish me. “Please. Please not hard. Please.” I pressed my face into the bed my hands fisting handfuls of the pillow now wet from my tears.
“You had no right to touch her clothes,” he said, as if he didn’t hear me at all, his cock claiming more of my ass, taking inch by painful, burning inch. “Our photograph.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I swear,” I cried. “You’re really hurting me, Lake.”
He paused for a moment, retreating a little, perhaps giving me a moment to adjust. But that wasn’t it because with his next two thrusts, he reclaimed every inch he’d retreated and more.
“Almost there, Lily girl,” he said, one hand coming around to rub my clit. “I’m about halfway in.” As he said it, he began to move inside me again, claiming more of me, and when he began to rub my clit, I found myself laying my face down into the pillow, my eyes closing, the pain and the pleasure mixed, confused. He kept rubbing while his cock moved slowly in and out of me, claiming more of me, burning but then, after that burn or in spite of it, my ass stretched to take him, his fingers sliding easily along my wet pussy.
He worked slowly until I was moaning beneath him. I felt his thighs touching mine as both his fingers and his cock stilled. “There,” he began, a slow movement of his hip accentuating his words while he took his fingers from my clit and set both to either side of my pussy, pulling me wide. “I’m in, baby. Are you ready to get your ass fucked, Lily?”
My response was a low moan. I looked over my shoulder at him. He had brought me to the edge, the sensation of pain, of fullness, and, most importantly, of his dominance over me, taking me out of my mind and fully into my body, fully absorbed in pure sensation.
“You like getting your ass fucked, don’t you, Lily?” he asked, pulling out and thrusting so hard that I cried out. “I think you’d like it better if you’d be allowed to come, wouldn’t you?” He thrust again and my eyes went wide at the assault. “But this is punishment.” He pulled out slowly, dragging his cock from my depths before plunging in hard, pain the dominant of the sensations now even as pleasure whispered along its edges. “And bad girls don’t get to come, do they?”
He moved his hands to my hips, lifting me higher, and, with the next thrust, pushed me to lie flat on the bed, his full weight on top of me, his cock fully and deeply seated inside my ass.
It was what I needed, all I needed, that contact with the rough blanket on the bed rubbing against my clit, him moving faster in and out of my ass, making me moan as my muscles closed around his cock and I came with a violent shudder, the orgasm different than any I’d had before, leaving me shaking, hot and cold at once, his cock still while my ass throbbed around it, taking me out of my mind.
I don’t know how long it was before I opened my eyes again but he waited for me to move, to make some sound before drawing me back up to my knees, his cock still firmly rooted inside me.
“Bad girl,” he said. “You like having me in your ass, don’t you, Lily?”
When I didn’t answer, he slapped my hip hard.
I gasped, too ashamed to answer.
“Say it. I want to hear you say it.” He smacked again, ignoring my cries. “Say it!”
“I like…” Ano
ther smack. “I like having you inside my ass. I like having you fuck my ass.”
“Slut. Lift your ass to me, bad girl. Offer it to me. Beg me to fuck it.” He slapped my hip hard and fast while he spoke, three quick smacks, and as sensitized as I was now and as tender as my ass was from my recent strappings, I called out, doing as he said, burying my face and thrusting my ass up to him to be fucked.
“Fuck me, Lake. I want you to fuck my ass hard. I’m begging you to fuck my ass.”
And he did — he fucked me harder, his fingers working my clit, calling two more powerful orgasms from me. My ass burned as he used it, his own groans loud behind me. Sweat fell onto my back as he thrust harder and harder, our breathing ragged, the sounds in the room lewd, obscene even until finally, he stilled, his cock swelling, throbbing, releasing streams of hot cum deep into me.
We were both breathless when he collapsed on top of me, his hands still gripping me, his face against my neck, his sweaty body against my own. We lay like that for some time until finally, he slowly slid out of me and rolled onto his side, taking me with him, holding me to him.
Chapter 13
She was so warm, tucked in against his body as she was. He watched her as she slept, her head on his chest, her mouth open slightly, showing a hint of white teeth. He gently stroked the appealing curve of her naked hip, feeling the roughness of her skin where he’d spanked her, strapped her. She’d have a sore bottom tomorrow once again.
The little light that did make it in through the blacked out window had waned, dusk long since past, the room shrouded in darkness, the air cool, still scented with the smell of sex. He’d come too close, way too close to losing his control with her. The hurt… had been too much. So strong. But she hadn’t known, couldn’t have known. He’d told himself that as he’d fucked that curvy little bottom, watching the glistening shaft plunge and retreat between those red cheeks, their contours congested with strap marks swollen red and purple.
He’d strapped that bottom harder than he’d intended, but there was something about her, about the way she responded to being under his thumb, the way she softened and yielded under the punishing strokes, that drew him to her ever more.
Captive, Mine Page 13
