by Sky Corgan
I quickly stand, alleviating the pressure on my neck. He doesn't let go of the collar, he merely uses it to guide me to my feet.
When I'm standing, he reaches up and grabs a handful of one of my breasts. The sensation of his palm brushing over my nipple instantly makes it perk, and I feel the betrayal of desire pass through me. Silently, I chastise my body. I should not be enjoying his touch at this point, not after what he just did. Not with horrors looming on the horizon.
His tender touch is trickery. It will turn to pain in a heartbeat. I already know this, and I do my best to mentally prepare myself for it.
He slides another finger beneath my collar and balls his hand into a fist, causing that familiar strangling sensation. It's not as intense as before though, not as restrictive. I can still suck in small breaths.
I gasp as he jerks me forward, my mouth crashing against his. He kisses me roughly, his tongue taking advantage of my parted lips. At the same time, his fingers curl into the soft flesh of my breast, sending a bite of pain racing through my chest. For all of his harshness though, I find it all oddly pleasurable.
Weakly, I kiss him back, my mouth moving with his when I'm not fighting to breath. The burning pain in my chest sends heat straight to my core. Lucian moans softly as he sucks on my tongue and then my bottom lip, his warm breath playing across my skin. I stare up at the ceiling, and I feel like I'm falling somewhere between pleasure and pain that I can actually appreciate.
My nipple slips between his fingers, and he pinches and tweaks it, which makes me shudder from the tiny contractions it causes between my legs. I feel almost drunk from the loss of air and the firm touch of his lips and the pleasant sensation of having my nipple played with.
Then he pulls away from me again, withdrawing entirely. His mouth. His hands.
The pressure on my neck goes away. Air rushes into my lungs. And I feel dumbstruck, staring at him, watching him assess my reaction.
“I think it's time we move on,” he says as if he's displeased, and I wonder if I did something wrong. Perhaps I shouldn't be enjoying this.
A small cry falls from my lips as he grabs the back of my collar and roughly guides me to a bondage tower on a pedestal. He forces me to step up onto it and presses my breasts roughly against the padding. The cold surface makes my nipples bead and sends a shiver down my spine.
“Wrap your arms around it,” Lucian instructs me.
When I do what I'm told, he goes to work binding my hands.
At first, I worry about leaning forward, that my weight might tip the tower over, but as soon as I realize how sturdy it is, I relax against it. The padding is stupidly comfortable, and if I didn't know that I was about to be tortured, I could probably fall asleep just like this.
Once Lucian has secured my hands, he walks back around to make sure that my legs are sufficiently spread.
“Do not move and do not look back at me. If you look back, I'll make you regret it.” There's a very clear threat in his tone, one that demands obedience.
I have no desire to act against his wishes. After the choking, I'm very sure that he would live up to his word of making me regret it if I did disobey him. Besides, I'm honestly too comfortable to move.
I stand there with my ear pressed against one of the wood beams composing the tower, listening to Lucian move somewhere behind me. There's a brief jingling sound, so I can only assume he's taking something down from one of the racks. The thought that I'm about to be wiped or flogged or something of that nature for the first time is kind of exciting. After this, I'll be able to honestly say that I've done some pretty kinky stuff.
It feels like a short forever before Lucian finally returns to me. The first thing I feel is a cold, rough material tracing up the inside of my leg from my ankle to my inner thigh. I hold my breath as it gets higher and higher, my body tensing while he makes a slow ascent towards my pussy.
I bite my bottom lip as the object whispers over my folds. It feels surprisingly good, even though the material is rough. Probably thick leather. Just the tiny bit of contact makes my loins ache with need.
“Do you like that?” he asks.
“Mhm.” I nod slightly, closing my eyes and soaking in the sensation.
“Well, enjoy it, because I'm about to do something that you definitely won't like,” his voice darkens, causing a twinge of fear to race through me that completely erases the pleasure I was feeling.
My breathing is becoming labored with anticipation. Internally, I tell myself not to worry. It can't possibly be that intense. But then I think about the choking, the panic I felt when I thought I might pass out or that he might break my neck. Suddenly, the bondage tower has become a lot less comfortable.
Lucian finishes tracing the outline of my legs. When he's done, he steps onto the platform with me. I feel his fingers weave into my ponytail, and he jerks my head back so far that my neck aches from it. I cry out in a mix of shock and pain, wincing from the strain.
His face is mere centimeters from mine, his hot breath bouncing off of the tower and wafting across my face. “I'm going to show you pain the likes of which you never thought you could feel.”
And just like that, he's gone again.
I pant loudly, pressing my cheek against the tower. The foreboding in his words has sent my fear to a whole new level. It's mental manipulation at its finest. Even though I know what he's doing, I can't fight the effects of it. I'm absolutely terrified, and he hasn't even touched me yet.
I try to prepare myself for what's coming, repeating in my mind the mantra mind over matter. Mind over matter. You can do this. Your mind controls your pain threshold.
WHAP!
The entire world goes red around me. A shrill, high-pitched scream echoes in my ears, and it takes me several seconds to realize that it's my own voice bouncing off of the walls. Tears burn my eyes, but they can't even compare to what I feel in my back. Pain the likes of which I never imagined could exist. It's like a three hundred pound man took sandpaper, put all of his weight on my back, and pulled it across between us. There's extreme warmth followed by a coolness which I can only imagine is blood. My legs give out beneath me as my body goes into complete shock.
Before I even know what's going on, my bonds are being unfastened. I find myself on the floor in Lucian's arms. He cradles me, holding me against his chest while I shiver and shake.
“Oh God, Amy. I'm so sorry. Fuck. I'll never do that again. Please forgive me. Please.” He kisses me on top of my head, his arms wrapped so tightly around me that I'm practically smothered.
I need this though. I need to be held after something so traumatic.
I press my face against the front of his suit and sob out all of my pain. Uncontrollable, unrestrained sobbing that seems to radiate from the very depths of my body. It's not just because I'm in massive amounts of pain. That's already beginning to die down. It's also because I know now that he was right. I can't do this. I can't give him what he needs. I'm not enough. I have to let him go. I have to let him keep working at Flesh.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
We stay on the floor for at least fifteen minutes. No words are spoken between us. He simply coddles me until the shaking subsides. And afterward, he rocks me in his arms until the crying dies down.
I cling to him with the desperation of a child, selfishly not wanting to let him go. There's a part of me that's pleased that he was able to switch off his sadistic side as soon as he realized that I was in severe pain—that I couldn't take anymore. Now, he's back to being the man that I want to be with. Not that monster that was standing behind me several minutes earlier.
“Here. I have something to soothe the burn. Go sit on the bench,” he tells me before standing to return to the closet.
I do as I'm told, pulling myself up off of the floor. Just moving makes me wince. The pain from the blow is lasting, and I know that it probably will be for days. If he didn't break the skin, then he at the very least bruised me deeply. It makes me wonder how many other wo
men bear his mark. How many women are walking around right now with proof that he's touched them? The thought hurts, but not half as much as the thought of putting myself through this kind of abuse again. Because that's what it is for someone who doesn't enjoy it.
Lucian returns to me with a small black bottle of cream. He straddles the bench behind me and starts rubbing it on my back. The burn almost instantly subsides, replaced by a cool tingling sensation. I sigh in relief though it's only physical. Inside, I feel defeated.
When he's done putting the cream on my back, he closes the bottle and kisses the nape of my neck, sliding up behind me and wrapping his arms around me. “I'm so sorry, Amy. Will you ever forgive me?”
“You're forgiven.” I place my hand on top of his. “You warned me that it would be like this.”
“I didn't even do my worst, to be honest. That was pretty mild.”
I grunt. The part of me that thinks he's just being arrogant doesn't want to believe him, but I have a feeling deep down inside that he's telling the truth. I saw the monster standing before me, the man who is capable of unspeakable horrors. I never want to see that person again. Not ever.
“I'm sorry too.” I give his hand a gentle squeeze.
“For what?”
“I don't know.” I sigh, looking at the ceiling. For doubting him? For asking him to give up Flesh? I dare not say it though. I don't want to talk about Flesh. I kind of just want to go home and go to sleep. Being choked and lashed is exhausting. “I think I'm going to get dressed.” I stand to gather my clothes.
To my surprise, Lucian gets up and blocks me.
“What are you doing?” I quirk an eyebrow at him.
“You can't leave like this?”
“Lucian, I'm tired.” I bring my hand to my face, showing my exhaustion.
“I know, but I refuse to let you go until I make this better.”
“You can make it better some other time.”
“No. Tonight.” He grabs my wrists, but there's nothing forceful about it. When I look up at him, there's determination etched in his features. “I can't allow you to leave here feeling this way about the lifestyle. It would not only be a disservice to you, but also to BDSM, in general.”
“I've had enough of the lifestyle for one night.” I smile at him softly.
“Please, Amy. For me.” His expression is pleading, and I have a feeling that he's not going to let this go.
“Fine,” I relent, my shoulders slumping.
“Same rules as before. Just not as rough.” He locks eyes with me and shakes his head slowly as if he knows that it's important for him to clarify that.
“Not rough at all, I hope.” I pull out of his grasp and hug myself, feeling uneasy. I seriously can't take anymore pain tonight.
“You'll enjoy this, I promise. Now come.” He holds his hand out to me, and I apprehensively take it, following him to some sort of metal stand.
Lucian rounds me to unfasten my collar, and I feel the sting from where he choked me. It's nothing like the sensations still trailing through my back, but it's still a reminder that he recently hurt me.
You wanted him to. You told him to. I have to keep reminding myself of that. For as much as I want to feel like a victim, I really wasn't. Not this time.
“Turn around and put your back up against the stand.” He tosses my collar onto the floor and puts a hand on the black bar pointing straight to the ceiling.
I frown at the device the second I realize that it has its own attached collar. And this one is metal. From one uncomfortable situation to another.
It takes everything in me not to sigh as I place my back against the cold metal rod. Lucian quickly gets to work fastening me to it, though he leaves me a generous amount of space on all of my bonds.
The device demands total submission. Submission to a level I've not yet felt. Not only is there a metal collar around my neck, but there are also metal shackles that keep my arms held slightly behind my back, and ankle cuffs that force my legs apart. I already know that if I lean too far, the thing will topple over with me in it. The only thing keeping me grounded is my weight on the metal platform below my feet. It's probably sturdier than it looks, but I never trust such things.
“Are you comfortable?” Lucian asks when he finishes restraining me.
“As comfortable as one can be in such a position.” I can't seem to keep the snark out of my tone. Perhaps it's the exhaustion wearing on me. The part of me that actually wanted to be submissive to him is beginning to fade. Now I'm just getting cranky.
“Good. I want you to be comfortable.” He lifts a hand to caress my cheek, and I stare into his eyes, looking for the sadism that was there before. It's gone now. I can see compassion, and I'm thankful for it. Perhaps this won't be so bad after all.
Lucian presses his thumb lightly against my lips before trailing it down my chin, over my neck, and between my breasts. I inhale deeply when he gets to my stomach, sucking in, and he smirks. No matter how many times he tells me to stop being self-conscious, I doubt I'll ever be able to change. I just feel so fat standing here in front of him. So imperfect.
“Everything from this point on is going to be about your pleasure.” He switches between his thumb and his index finger to trail the rest of the way down before stopping at my mound.
Knowing that his hand is so close to my pussy makes my body thrum with arousal. I yearn to be touched, but I'm too lazy to beg for it. All I want to do is relax and enjoy whatever he has planned for me. If it is enjoyable, that is. I'm still questioning that inside my head—not quite sure if I can trust him.
His hand leaves me, and he returns to the closet. I watch his back, feeling a tightness in my chest. There's no telling what he's going to pull out next.
My eyes fall to the strap on the floor, the one he hit me with. Long thick brown leather. I will remember it for the rest of my life. Fear it for the rest of my life. Hate it for the rest of my life. It's a good thing he keeps this door locked. Otherwise, I might sneak in and burn it. No one should ever be struck with something so brutal.
Lucian closes the closet door, drawing my attention back up to him. In one hand, he has a black metal bar with a conical basket attached to it. In the other, a massager very similar to a Hitachi magic wand. A blush covers my cheeks as I begin to put the pieces together.
Then he begins to put the pieces together, literally, screwing the bar between my legs. I can't even look at him while he does it. With the rest of the stand assembled, he slides the vibrator into its holder. His fingers gently part my pussy lips, making sure that the head of the massager is pressing against my clit. There's a wicked grin playing across his face, probably because he knows there's no way that I couldn't get pleasure from the thing.
“Do you know what this is?” He grabs the cord hanging from the massager and plugs it into the wall. Then he returns to me, holding a dial in his hand. It's a clever construction. He can control the vibrator while still having free range to walk a short distance around me.
“It's a...Hitachi magic wand?” I hesitate.
“It's a forced orgasm tower.”
I gulp, my blood bubbling with anticipation. Already, my clit is firing off tiny contractions, completely unmerited from the lack of stimulation. My hormones are revving up against my will, my body yearning for the pleasure to come. I deserve it after all he has put me through. Maybe I needed this more than I thought.
“A forced orgasm tower,” I parrot the words back to him absentmindedly.
“Mhm.” He walks behind me, and I can feel my pulse quicken.
He pulls my ponytail over my shoulder, his fingertips whispering across the skin there. I shiver from his sensual touch. The second I feel his breath on my neck followed by a tender kiss, my eyes grow hooded. Just like that, I'm in the mood again.
The fact that he has this kind of power over my body is incredible. Only moments ago, I was sure that nothing would make me happier than to go home and crawl into bed. Now, I'm at the edge of my pr
overbial seat. I want this. I feel like I shouldn't, but I do. I want these intimate moments with him. I want to please him and for him to please me. I want to heal from the pain he caused me.
Lucian presses his body against me, his free hand sliding over my ribcage before it cups my breast. I close my eyes, fearing that he's going to squeeze me painfully hard, but he doesn't. His touch is as tender as his kiss, gently kneading, sending tendrils of pleasure to my nether region.
I allow a soft groan to slip between my lips, praying that he doesn't take it as an invitation to hurt me. I can feel the starchy material of his suit rubbing against my back. Where he lashed me, it causes the slightest throb of pain though it's nothing unbearable.
“I've wanted to have you like this for so long,” he whispers. “To bring you in here and show you pleasures you never imagined.”
I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything. I just soak in everything that's going on. The feel of his big strong hands touching me, the soft rubbing of the massager head against my clit whenever I move. Oh yes, I'm definitely getting hot.
“You're so beautiful when you come, Amy. I've been longing to see it all night. And now I'm going to. I'm going to see it as many times as I want.”
With the flick of the dial, the vibrator begins its assault on my core. A heady gasp whooshes out of my lungs as he goes directly from stop to sonic speed. I pull my hips back, but there's no room to escape. Lucian's grip tightens on my breast, his fingertips pinching at my nipple. My body folds in euphoric bliss, the orgasm coming on so quickly that I see stars.
Lucian is very in tune with everything going on. He turns the vibrator off and slips his hand between my legs, his forefinger pressing and massaging over my clit, feeling the contractions roll against his skin. He moans softly into my ear, which only makes my orgasm that much more intense.
It feels so good to know that he's focused on my pleasure instead of my pain. This is how the lifestyle should be. This is my realm of BDSM, the world that I could get lost in with him forever.
