Cupcakes and Crooked Spoons (Sweet Treats Book 3)

by Charity B.

He turns to leave and I jump up to follow him, grasping his hand.

  “No, please, Master, don’t call him!” He glares down at my hand on his and I pull it away.

  The same hand I just held grips my shoulder as he digs in his fingers. “I told you to never tell me no again.”

  I lower my voice to a whisper, pleading. “Please, if you don’t tell him, I won’t tell if you decide to come inside of me.” I can’t believe I just offered that. I guess I’m already a whore, at least this is kind of my own payback to Logan.

  His eyebrows stay knit together while his face softens and he releases my arm. “How long until you’re completely sober?”

  I shrug. “It depends. I’m reeeeally high.”

  He growls. Actually growls. Like a dog.

  “I’m not fucking amused.”

  “A few hours,” I rush out. I can’t risk pissing him off more and him calling Logan.

  “I want you completely lucid, so it looks like you have some time to think about how disrespectful this is.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He seizes me by my forearm and drags me to the big wooden X attached to the wall. He picks me up and slams me against it as he fastens the straps around each ankle and wrist. He gives me this disappointed look like I’m supposed to feel bad or something, and then he just storms out.

  That’s it? Um…okay?

  This guy has no idea who he’s dealing with if he thinks tying me up is going to do anything. I am Logan James’ plaything for goodness sake. It’s gonna take a lot more than this if he actually wants me to suffer. I wonder how mad he will get if I tell him as much.

  How long have I been up here? My nose itches and I’m thirsty. It’s had to have been at least an hour…

  I know it’s been more than two hours now. I have to pee like crazy and my arms are killing me. My legs are starting to ache and I can barely move. He’s got to be coming back soon…

  This is starting to get extremely uncomfortable and I am pretty sure the coke is long gone…How long has it been?

  OKAY, I GET IT! This officially sucks. I think my arms might break off and my entire body throbs. My bladder is about to burst and I’m definitely not high anymore and it looks like I won’t be for a couple of days. Where is he?

  When the door opens, I almost cry with relief. The woman in the blue dress enters.

  “Hello, Tavin, my name is Misty. I’m Mr. Saxon’s assistant. He would like to know if you have any food allergies.”

  I shake my head, the only part of me that I can still move. “No…Can you please help me down?”

  She smiles at me like you would a small child that doesn’t understand something. “Now, I’m sure you know I can’t do that. You must have made him pretty mad for him to punish you like this. He usually likes to be more…involved.”

  I sigh. “It was worth a shot.”

  She’s quite pretty. She looks about his age, tall, with blonde highlighted hair, and tan skin.

  “Does he play with you too?”

  She looks a little detested and scoffs, “He wishes.” She winks and laughs. “I’d play with you though.” I think she’s kidding, though the thought of playing with a girl has never occurred to me. “Just stick it out a bit longer, okay?”

  I don’t know how to address her, she isn’t a Client, so I simply nod. She shuts the door and I am alone once again. Without the distraction of the drugs or Master, my thoughts go to Toben and what happened. I still can’t believe it. I keep hoping this is a dream. That I will wake up and none of this ever happened.

  I don’t even know what to feel about it anymore. I know I’m angry. I’m angry he lied about the other girls, I’m angry that he enjoyed it so dang much, and I’m angry that Logan took this from us. I’m also sad because I know this changes things. I’m sad because it’s like one of the threads holding us together has snapped and can never be repaired.

  Then I realize that there are still thousands of threads. We are two parts of one whole. Half people. I can’t survive without him. I won’t. I just don’t know how to fix this.

  What if we can’t?

  “Tavin.” My eyes fly open. I’m crying. They aren’t supposed to see me cry. I can’t wipe my tears so I stare at him with a wet face. “It’s not that bad is it?” He doesn’t seem angry with me anymore as he reaches out his thumb and wipes away a tear. He puts it to his mouth before he unties me.

  “No, Master.” My legs have stopped working at some point so when he unfastens them, I fall flat on my face.

  “Shit.” He lifts me up. “I may have had you up there a little too long.” I would give him a dirty look if he wasn’t the only reason I’m standing. He helps me walk around the room. “Are you sober?”

  “Unfortunately so, Master.”

  He gives me a warning glance and narrows his eyes. “If you ever come here intoxicated again, I will have you begging me to put you up on that cross for five hours. Do you understand?”

  Five hours?! That jerk!

  “Yes, Master.”

  I can feel my legs again and they tingle like someone is poking me with a billion little needles all at once.

  “Come on, pet, it’s time for dinner.” He leads me out the door.

  “Plaything.”

  “What?” His head is cocked to the side. He isn’t mad, just confused.

  I would never normally correct a Client, they can call me whatever they want. I mean heck, he can too, but I’m here for the whole weekend and he seems kinder than most, so it’s worth the try.

  “I’m a toy-a plaything. Not a pet.”

  “You prefer to be called ‘plaything’?” He still isn’t mad, he just looks curious.

  I shrug. “It’s what I am.”

  I can’t decide if the way he looks at me creeps me out or not when he nods. “Alright.”

  Wow really?

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He guides me through the house that has the same ancient style as the foyer. We go up a huge staircase and it isn’t until I see a man in a suit holding a bunch of papers, that I worry about still being naked. He doesn’t look at me, so he must be used to this. Master takes me into a room guarded by large, dark wooden, double doors.

  When we enter, the first thing I notice is the bed and it makes me recognize my exhaustion. It looks so comfortable. It’s a huge four poster with a white canopy. There’s a writing desk and two large armoires. Two ginormous windows are on the back wall and a few ornate lounge furniture pieces are scattered around the room.

  I look up at him. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it. It’s starting to hurt. “Master?”

  “Yes, Plaything?”

  “Can I use your bathroom?”

  He nods and walks past me to open a door and turn on a light. I follow him inside and when I stand in front of the toilet, he crosses his arms.

  “Are you going to watch me, Master?”

  I shouldn’t mouth off to him, but I really have to go and he’s making it take longer.

  He nods his head toward the toilet. “Yes.”

  My face is burning hot and my eyes widen as I sit down. As bad as I need to pee I can’t with him watching. I’ve met plenty of men with fetishes, but none ever watched me use the bathroom. After a few painful and embarrassing moments, he smirks at me and leaves. I glare at the empty doorway, though I’m finally able to relieve myself.

  I wash up and walk back into the bedroom where he’s standing next to the bed. Looking closer, I notice a long cream-colored gown laying across the comforter. He picks up the dress as I walk to him.

  “Lift your arms.”

  That’s asking a lot considering they have been lifted for the last five hours. I obey and I’m disappointed in myself when they start shaking. Sliding the silky fabric down my body, he keeps his hands on my hips as he leans down to kiss me. He removes his shirt before turning and taking off his pants, disappearing behind a door. Emerging quickly, he’s in a suit and it’s different somehow. It’s nicer, not like wh
at they wear in offices. He looks so handsome.

  He sticks out his elbow and his expression is cute. I wonder if that’s supposed to be a smile. He’s still standing there with his elbow out like he’s expecting me to do something. I mirror him, hoping that’s what he’s implying. Sighing, he takes my hand and places it inside his arm. God he’s weird. We walk like that all the way downstairs.

  This guy is too much. His dining room is enormous with high ceilings and one of the walls is completely made of little colorful diamond windows making it look like it’s glowing. The medieval theme continues with this ridiculous table. It’s so freaking long. He holds out the chair and gestures for me to sit. This feels bizarre, this isn’t how things are done. I’ve never been fed by a Client, besides the candy, and I’ve certainly never been given a dress by anyone other than Logan. I’m sure it’s not really mine, still, it’s unusual.

  I didn’t think he was actually going to sit at the opposite end of the table, and yet, he does. We’re going to have to yell if we are going to have a conversation. Which is seemingly the point, since we don’t say a word the entire meal. I don’t mention that it’s complete crap that he has a glass of wine and a glass of something harder with his dinner when I don’t get a single drip of alcohol with mine.

  Since we don’t speak through dinner, I have no idea what crawled up his butt between then and now. All of a sudden, he shoots up so fast that the chair skids out behind him. Storming to the end of the table, he yanks me out of the chair.

  He drags me back into the playroom before he finally speaks.

  “Take off the dress and kneel.”

  I quickly obey as I watch him get all the hooks and cleaning supplies put on a tray. Grabbing the rope from the wall, he barrels towards me. He is much rougher than last time when he ties my wrist behind my back.

  “Get up,” he grates out.

  I’m evidently not doing so fast enough because he jerks me up the rest of the way by my arm. He flings my hair over my shoulder before putting on gloves and cleaning my back. The wonderful stinging sensation makes me push my thighs together. I hear him lift a hook from the tray and mumble, “Christ.” Once all the hooks are in, he takes me by the arm and leads me to the chains. After he has me suspended, he rips off his jacket and shirt, fastening the chain to the wall.

  “I should have already been inside you today,” he shoves off his shoes and pulls off his socks, “and because of your poor choices, that hasn’t happened.” His pants and underwear are pushed to the floor. He doesn’t even make sure that I’m wet before he wraps my thigh around his waist and slams into me. “You’re gonna make up for that.”

  Okay. I loathe sex. The sounds, the smell, even the way if feels. It’s disgusting, perverted, and vile. While I will never admit it aloud, this physically feels good, even if inside I still feel like a repulsive gash. The hooks pull with each thrust causing a steady flow of orgasms. His hands are squeezing my ass while he bites my neck and shoulder. He hasn’t slowed in his tempo at all, if anything, he’s going harder and faster.

  No, please, not again. Another one is building, I just don’t think I have anything left.

  “Please, Master, I can’t come anymore.”

  “You should have thought about that before you shoved all that powder up your nose.”

  As he pulls out, he walks to the chain to lower me to the floor, pushing me to my knees once he returns.

  “I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.” Brushing my hair back, he presses the soft tip against my lips so I lick lightly, which makes it twitch and him groan. “Suck my dick, Tavin.” I swallow as much of him as I can, suctioning with vigor. “Ah, Fuck.” He pumps into my mouth a few times before removing himself and unhooking the chains. He doesn’t take out the hooks when he throws me to the floor on my back and buries his head in-between my legs.

  The pain from my arms still being tied and my hooked back rubbing against the floor mixed with his tongue brings tears to my eyes.

  “I’m coming again, Master.”

  He moans into my wetness before climbing on top of me and rams himself inside me. “Your pussy feels so amazing.” His tongue laps at my nipple as he opens my legs wider. “I will never wear a condom with you again.” He stops to stand and pick me up. He shoves me down on him as he carries me to the wooden horse, inside me the whole time. I am flung back around as he places me face down, straddling the horse when he pummels me deep and hard. He shows no mercy. When his tempo increases, I know he’s about to finish.

  “Every drop. Take every drop, little plaything.”

  I can feel it shooting inside of me and it seems to just keep coming out. His body gets finally slack as he slowly pulls himself out with a groan. I sigh when he removes the hooks and close my eyes. I could go to sleep right here. Lifting me off the wooden horse, he puts me on my shaky legs and moves the sweat-stuck hair from my face.

  “You just redeemed yourself.”

  I don’t get to put the dress back on, but that’s okay though because I’m too sweaty anyway. He pulls on his pants before guiding me back to the same bedroom as earlier. We take a shower before he puts me to bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow, I fall asleep in his arms.

  I can’t go to Nikki’s to get my tools because I am too furious to trust myself with her, so I’ll just have to get creative. I’m not going to shoot up-not tonight. I’ve never done meth though, and Christopher gave me some yesterday. He said it won’t take much, so I load it up in the Pyrex he gave me, rotating it over the flame of my lighter. Once it’s ready, I take a big, slow hit.

  Oh yeah. Oh, hell yeah. Oh, fucking hell yeah. I can definitely work with this.

  I randomly find a hand rake along with a few knives and a cheese grater in the kitchen, after I cut the chords off the blinds. Logan always leaves the belt he made for Tavin here, so I retrieve it before I carry it all up to my room. I pour a couple of shots of vodka, load up my stash necklace with some coke, and call a cab.

  I still can’t believe she actually used the word rape. What was I supposed to do? Just let him stab her? She isn’t wrong that I enjoyed myself, though. She felt incredible. Shit. Maybe she’s right. I should have pushed the knife into myself before doing that to her. She’s gone. I know it. She will hate me for the rest of her life. Part of me fears she won’t come back after her long playdate and I’ll never see her again. It’s horrible that I’m relieved at the fact that Logan would find her even if she did leave.

  Why the hell is he letting this freak have her for so long? This is going to be the longest weekend of my life.

  I take a bump in the cab and light a cigarette.

  “You can’t smoke in here.”

  I reach into my back pocket, pull three hundred dollars from my wallet, and hold it over the front seat.

  “Will this make you shut the hell up about it?”

  He snatches the money and keeps his mouth closed until he drops me off. I told Christopher that Tavin and I were busy tonight because the last thing I need is him asking his questions.

  The club is packed, giving me quite a selection. I don’t even know what I’m looking for until I see her. She’s dripping with innocence and just waiting to be destroyed. She is uncomfortable in her skin, if the way she holds herself is any indication. There are a few other girls with her and she seems to be the odd one out, not quite fitting in. She’s small with dark hair and I realize that she resembles Tavin.

  That’s just a coincidence, though…Yeah.

  A hit up each nostril gives me the rush I crave, as I step up toward her table. All four of them look at me and I charm every single one. Now I bet they all have wet, little panties. I turn my focus on my fun for the night.

  “Do you want to dance?”

  She blushes and looks to one of her friends for approval.

  “Go, Cade. You need to loosen up.”

  I hold my hand out to help her from the booth, and while I lead her to the dance floor, I lace my fingers with hers.

&
nbsp; Pulling her around so her back is in front of me, I squeeze her little hips and press her ass against my pelvis. She’s stiff as hell. I place my mouth next to her ear so she can hear me over the music.

  “You need to listen to your friend and loosen up.”

  She gives me a weak smile and turns her head to respond. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

  I laugh. “Anything like what? Dance?”

  “I’ve never been to a bar. My dad would kill me if he knew.”

  Oh, this chick is so fucked. Literally and metaphorically. I spin her around and place her arms around my neck, slowly trailing my fingers down them, creating goosebumps beneath my touch. She looks up at me with such a sweet expression, I almost feel bad for what I am going to do to her.

  “Just relax, you’re in good hands.”

  We’ve been at this a while and I think she’s finally loosening up. It’s hot and the music fuels the energy under my skin. Her ass is pushing against me as she starts to move her body with mine.

  “There you go. Just like that.” I make my move. I kiss her neck and bring my right hand closer to her pelvis. “My name is Toben.”

  With a coy smile, she watches me through long eyelashes. “I’m Cadence.”

  This is going to be easier than I thought.

  Placing my hand on her neck, I tilt her head back to kiss her and she’s more than receptive. I move my hand down to her inner thigh, slowly lifting her skirt. I feel her rock her body toward my hand. I stop to give myself a bump and by her expression, I think I might have just screwed myself.

  “Is that drugs?!” She doesn’t pull her body from mine though, so that’s a good sign.

  “I’m shy…it helps my confidence.”

  Wow that was bad. There’s no way she is buying that load.

  Her face softens. “I understand that.”

  Holy shit.

  I can see her wheels turning. Oh my God, she totally wants some.

  “Do you want to try it?”

  “What will it do?”

  “It just makes everything better.” I dip the little spoon in and hold it under her nose. “One big inhale, that’s it.”