by Brit Vosper
Sitting on my heels, I scowled and rubbed my wrists. He pulled me down with such force, I landed on my chest. My hands had no chance to break my fall.
“Answer me.”
“Yes!” I screamed.
As I tried to get back up, he lowered to a squat, and held the chain to the floor with his foot.
“I didn’t say you could get up.”
He held until I stopped trying. “Things will be easier all round, if you do as you’re told.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
He laughed. “Fine. Have it your way, princess.”
He removed his foot and pulled the chain to a small metal hoop embedded in the centre of the floor. Threaded it through and hoisted it up, dragging me over the ground. The cold stone scraped my chest and grated across my palms as I pushed backwards in vain. Fastening the end of the chain to my collar, he locked it into place and left me with enough slack to raise on to all fours.
“We’ll try this again.”
He strolled to the back of the cell, and I heard the plate scrape against the stone as he picked it up. Then brought it over and placed it in front of me.
“Are you going to eat?”
I growled through gritted teeth. “No.”
I knew I couldn’t keep this up indefinitely, but there was no way I was backing down from this now.
“Okay, Olivia. I’ve given you more than enough chances.”
He stepped beside me and grabbed my jacket, forcing my arms back as he slid it from my shoulders. Lifting me up and tearing it from my body. In only my shirt, I felt the chill of the stone cell and the cold pinch of vulnerability.
He threw it by the bars and walked behind, I watched him pick up the thick black strap. My body tensed as soon as he stepped back, and I scrambled away from him; heading in the opposite direction as far as the chain allowed.
“You can’t run away from me, Olivia. You’re only prolonging the inevitable.”
He took a step towards me, and I moved again; keeping my arse pointed to the far end of the cell.
He dived and grabbed my hair. Pain ripped across my scalp as he dragged me struggling forward. As soon as the chain pulled taut, he hooked the top of my jeans and spun my body back to the original position. Then stepped over my head and straddled me; trapping my waist between his legs. I tried to wriggle free, but he increased the pressure.
“Come now, princess. If you’re bullish enough to challenge me, you should at least have the balls to face the consequences.”
As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I knew punishment would come. I knew full well he’d have to put me in my place. It didn’t stop me from acting out. Not that I wanted to make anything easier for him, but if I stood my ground and took the penalty, maybe he’d see I wouldn’t be broken into submission. He could beat me till I bled, but it would do nothing to change my will. Squaring on all fours, I anchored my weight into the floor and prepared myself for the pain.
I heard the swoop of leather. An almighty crack boomed from the walls as the strap bit my arse. The sting shot along my back and down my thighs; growing in force as it set every nerve ending alight. I shrieked as I fell forward, but only dropped to my forearms. His legs kept me in position.
A slash cut the air and the bite struck again, harder than the last. I thought the belt was bad. It was nothing compared to the agony that ripped across my skin from this.
All I could do was cry out. The more I tried to move, the firmer he held me in place. Another strike and another. They came in quick succession. Each one building upon the pain of the last without any reprieve. The fire raged through my flesh, throbbing as if it were the pulse in my veins.
The strikes stopped, and he released me from the vice grip of his legs. I sank down and placed my forehead to my arms. The whipping may have ceased, but the pain hadn’t. I realised there was another pulsation to match. One which emanated from between my legs. The warmth spread as I focused on the sensation. I tensed to stop it, but it only highlighted the slickness.
I couldn’t believe I was turned on. What kind of person gets aroused by something like this?
Last night was a fluke. A mix of strong emotions and running adrenaline. There was no way I’d enjoy being whipped. I wasn’t a masochist.
But then, here I was, wet with pleasure as the sting of my beating seared my skin.
His footsteps approached, and he crouched by my head. A sharp pressure burnt my scalp as he pulled me up by my hair. “Still with me, princess?”
I glared at him through the corner of my eye. “Did you expect me to go somewhere?”
A half-smiled curled on his lips. “Not physically.”
“I can assure you, I’m still here.”
“Are you ready to eat?”
“Surprisingly, no. I’ve lost my appetite.”
He sighed. “Okay.”
Releasing my hair, he stood and stalked behind me. Lifting up my hips to put me back on all fours. “It’s a good job we’re just warming up.”
Relaxing the tension in my body, I prepared for another barrage of pain. This time, I would stay firm and take whatever he dealt. I figured fighting it was only making the pain worse.
The blow came down hard, reigniting the burning. I gasped with the force. My body willed me to move away from the impact, but I pushed the weight into my knees and leaned back for the next one.
It came again, and I embraced the pain. Owned it as it seared through my body. The warmth between my legs grew to a heated throbbing. I no longer tried to stop it. Rather, I allowed it to take over.
The next strike bit my skin and a low rumble escaped from my throat. He hit me again, and I moaned louder still, dropping to my forearms to sink into the calmness that engulfed me.
He walked around, crouched in front and lifted my chin. I tried to regain my composure as he inspected my face, but I could feel my eyelids were heavy. He knew.
A smile rose on his lips as he placed the strap on the floor and cupped my chin in his hands. His thumbs grazed over my cheekbones sending tiny sparks through my face that collected at my lips. I pulled my head from his hands and off to the side. I didn’t want to see him.
“Ready to eat?”
I shook my head. “No.”
It was no longer about the damn food. It wasn’t about pissing him off either. I wanted him to carry on.
“Are you sure? We’re going to the next level.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
Grabbing the strap from the floor, he stood and walked over to the side of the cell. The scratchy, hollow sound of bamboo scraped against the stone before his footsteps stalked behind. I had no idea how much more this would hurt, but I was sure it would be a considerable amount. It didn’t matter, I wanted to feel it. On bated breath, I braced for the impact. It didn’t come.
He placed his hands on the small of my back. The unexpected touch made me flinch. He pushed my shirt upwards, trailing his heavy, cold fingers across my warm skin. I gasped as the tender sensations sent a whole new type of pleasure through my body. One that was soft and intimate; one that longed for him to touch me further.
His fingers traced my spine and circled my waist, gliding around to my stomach. My muscles clenched, sending surges through my core. He unbuttoned my jeans and unzipped the fly. I should’ve been petrified about what would happen, but I wasn’t.
Edging along the waistband, he eased down my jeans; taking longer than necessary as his fingers grazed my hot, sensitive cheeks. I was wet, but I didn’t realise how much until the cold air chilled my thong.
A finger traced the slickness, and I gasped loud at the sudden burst of pleasure. A low groan followed which practically begged him to do it again.
He laughed. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”
I sighed as I realised he wasn’t. A hand came down sharp on my right cheek, and the sting awoke the burning. It wasn’t as hard as the strap, but now the smack was on bare flesh, it increased the intensity.
I collected
my breath and answered. “Yes.”
The air shifted as he moved away from me. I was alone, naked without him near.
“This is really going to hurt, princess.”
A swift cut of air pierced through the cell. The bite seared a thin line across my cheeks like the flesh was ripped away with wire.
Howling, I hugged my head and tensed. Another swipe tore into my arse and my vision clouded with static. The pain was overwhelming. It was too much, I couldn’t take it.
I gasped as another strike slashed. My scream caught in my throat and I choked on my breath. Falling to the floor, I struggled to regain my breathing as the burning slashes throbbed in three distinct, agonising lines.
“No,” I coughed out. “No more.”
His footsteps padded towards the front of the cell. He picked up the plate and placed it by my head. There was no amusement in his expression. There was no gloating. He simply stared and waited for my response.
I raised back up on to my forearms and tore off a small piece of cold toast. Then placed it in my mouth and chewed.
I should’ve felt defeated, but this didn’t feel like a win-or-lose situation. There was only so far he’d let me resist, and I’d put up as much fight as he’d allowed. I swallowed and laid on the floor, hugging my arms into my chest.
He held up the cane for me to see. “Don’t make me use this again.”
I shook my head. “I won’t.”
Fourteen
Olivia
“Olivia.”
A soft voice invaded the darkness. I heard it come from beyond the high walls of the pit. It couldn’t have been Jack, he was laying at my feet; cold and lifeless. His thick blood slick between my fingers as I toyed the sharp blade against my palms.
Was I dead? Could it be calling me to my next destination? No, it was too sweet to be from hell. That would be the only place I’d be headed after what I’d done. Guilt gripped my heart. I had to be alive. That’s the only way I’d still feel so much.
“Olivia.”
The voice sounded familiar. A name flicked to mind, Lucy. Like being dragged through time, I was transported back to the present. An awakening that came with relief and regret. It was a dream, but the pain was real. I was glad to be away from the tormented memories, but disheartened I was still here. Still breathing and still shouldering the unbearable guilt of my actions.
I opened my eyes and scanned the bleakness of the cell. Maybe this is what I deserved. This was my personal living hell, complete with its very own Lucifer.
“Olivia.” Lucy’s voice had become insistent in its own delicate way; pushing aside my self-pity and raising a pang of irritation.
“What?” I snapped.
“Are you awake?”
She seemed like a sweet girl, but far from the sharpest tool in the shed. “I am now.”
Taking care to put the weight on my thigh, I rolled up to a seated position. Trying not to disturb the welts that were still raw under my jeans. The chain hung down my back, and the metal closed against my throat. I turned the padlock and moved the chain around to the front. To have this damn collar off would be a pleasure all of its own.
“It’s gonna be breakfast soon.”
I rubbed my face and cleared the sleep from my eyes. “Yeah, and…?”
“You need to eat it.”
“I know.”
As if I needed reminding of yesterday’s fun and games. The three sharp welts on my arse were hint enough. He’d left me alone after my punishment. Only coming back down to take Lucy upstairs for the evening. While I sat alone contemplating my behaviour like a naughty child. I must’ve been asleep by the time he brought her back. The rumbling nausea in my stomach made me want to eat today.
“You should just do what he says. He can be kind of nice then.”
I scoffed. “That isn’t a word I’d use to describe him.”
“He’s not that bad if you follow the rules. I’d never dare answer back like you. I thought he would really hurt you yesterday.”
“He did. Haven’t you had the pleasure of meeting the cane?”
“No.” She said it like it was a ridiculous notion.
“You haven’t?”
“He’s grabbed my face a few times, and he scares me, but he’s never hurt me like that.”
“He’s never hit you at all?” Either, she was a special case, or I was.
“No, but I do what he says, anyway. I’d rather be here than with some pervert.”
She knew she would be sold. I could see why she’d prefer the devil she knew. “Has he ever done anything else to you?”
“Like what?”
“Y’know, other things?”
“Oh. No, nothing like that.”
“Nothing?”
“He took me to this place where there were other men a few days ago. One of them wanted to do things. Sir wouldn’t let him.”
“What other men? What place?”
“I don’t know. It was a long drive in the van to get there. I had no idea who the other men were.”
“How long was the drive? Can you remember their names? What did they look like?” I doubted her answers would be useful, but any information could give me a better idea of what could happen to me.
“I don’t know. Like, three or four hours away. It felt like forever. There were four other men. One was fat and bald. He was the sleaze that wanted to take me upstairs. I hated him. Another was older and tall, mean looking. He scared me. I can’t remember his name. The last two didn’t speak, they just watched.”
“The older guy. Did he go by the name Marcus, by any chance?”
“Yeah, that sounds right. Do you know him?”
“No, but I know of him.”
The door lock shifted and sent metallic clunks echoing around the cells. Nerves prickled the hairs on my arms as dread crept into my thoughts. What the hell would today’s confrontation bring?
He entered Lucy’s cell and greeted her the same as yesterday. She replied as polite as ever. I no longer abhorred the way she folded to him. It was understandable. The bars slid shut and my stomach pitted knowing he was coming to see me next.
“Good Morning, princess.”
I raised my head to see his amused face pressed into the bars. It made wet strands of his dark, wavy hair cling to the side of his forehead. He watched me intently. His eyes lit with interest as he waited for my reaction. I glanced to find the plate, but his hands were empty. “No breakfast today?”
His grin widened. “Are you hungry?”
I stared at the stones on the floor. “Yes.”
“Then we’d better get you something.”
He came in and crouched before me, lifting my chin and forcing me to look at him. My chest tightened as I studied his sculpted face. His striking eyes glistened from the shadows of his deep brow, and his high cheekbones cut at just the right angle to make his cheeks square against his wide, handsome jaw. He was stunning, but the devil often appears in beautiful form.
His full lips quirked at the corners as he studied me. “Are you going to behave today?”
I nodded. “I’ll try.”
His hazel eyes lit as he laughed. “That’s a big improvement.”
He pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the collar from my neck. It was nice to rub away the weight of the pinching metal. It gave me a small semblance of freedom. One of movement and of mind.
“We’re going upstairs. I shouldn’t have to tell you what will happen if you try to run.”
I nodded, knowing full well what he’d do once he caught me. It surprised me he’d still take the risk.
He stood and gestured towards the open door. “After you.”
I shifted the weight on my knees and stood. It took another nod and gesture from him before I made my way from the cell. I couldn’t shake off the feeling he was leading me into a trap. Lucy looked up and nodded as we passed. Her way of saying go with it, I guessed.
Both doors leading up to the kitchen were open.
The urge to make a break for it surged into my legs. There was little between me and the outside world beyond. I thought better of it. Even if I got out of the kitchen, he’d only run me down in the fields. I knew how that turned out.
The smell of porridge caught my nose and the promise of food switched my focus. My hunger was too rabid to run. I climbed the stairs and made my way into the bright kitchen. It was warmer than I remembered, the bare walls didn’t seem so baron. After the gloom of the cells, however, any home comfort would be welcome. The door locked, and he strolled over to the stove to stir the simmering pan.
“Would porridge be more fitting for your palate, milady?”
I smiled, starting to see the funny side in his digs. It pissed me off as much as ever, but I had to admit, he had a sense of humour. “Yes, porridge would be acceptable.”
He flicked his free hand towards the table. “Take a seat.”
I pulled out the chair closest. He watched as I eased down. Mindful of my raw welts.
“Still sore?”
“What do you think?” I snapped.
His face dropped into a dead stare.
I readjusted my tone with a roll of my eyes. “Yes, it hurts.”
“Breakfast first, then we’ll sort the bruising. Take these in the meantime.”
He opened one of the top cupboards and pulled out a bottle of tablets. Shaking a couple into his hand, he filled a glass with water and brought them over. I recoiled back as he held them out for me to take.
“They’re just paracetamol, don’t worry.”
I studied his face and searched for a reason not to take them. He gave me nothing but a sigh as he placed them on the table. Then strolled back to the cupboard to fetch the bottle.
“I have no desire or need to drug you. Show a little trust.”
I scoffed. “Trust? Seriously?”
He slammed the paracetamol bottle on the table then stared at me. There was no anger on his face. His eyes looked sincere.
“Yes. I’m not a monster, Olivia. Not like you think.” He picked up one tablet and placed it in his mouth before grabbing the water to wash it down. “I’ll only hurt you if you make me.” He leant into my face to make his point. “Do as you’re told, and we’ll get along just fine.”
