Page 8 of Kings Fear No One
No wonder they chose her.
One look at her, and you can tell she’s the type to be seated in church every Sunday. Everything from the modest skirt and blouse she’s wearing to the horror on her face reveals she’s exactly the ‘pure heart’ type they like to corrupt.
She catches on that I’m studying her and wards me off with a knit of her brows and suspicious bend of her mouth.
“Now for the bonding,” the Leader says, stepping aside. His arm sweeps in dramatic fashion as he gestures to the bed that’s propped up on the dais.
A bed that I’m more than familiar with. That makes my stomach roil on sight.
“Get started,” he prompts.
I take a step toward the bed, then realize I’m alone.
Teysha’s stayed put. She makes no attempt to hide her tears or the fact that she’s shaking on the spot. Her fingers have clasped around the gold cross like she expects for it to protect her against the evil swallowing her up.
The Leader sighs. “Brody, Xavier. Help our new believer.”
Both men stride forward to grab one of her arms and drag her toward the bed. They lift her up and throw her down onto the mattress like they couldn’t give less of a shit how much she screams and struggles.
“No… NOOOO!” she screams in sudden wild hysterics, kicking her legs out.
And I stand by and let it happen.
My heart’s racing. My fingers twitch and itch. I can barely control my breathing.
The room feels hot and like it’s spinning.
My temper pulses, but I tamp it down. I remind myself there’s nothing I can do. A lesson I’ve learned dozens of times over the past nine hundred days.
I can’t stop what’s about to happen. But I’m maybe the only other person in this room that feels sick from the ceremony we’re being forced to participate in.
“The binds,” the Leader drawls lazily from the sidelines. “Use the binds if she refuses to lay still.”
Brody and Xavier wrap leather binds around her wrists, tethering her to the bed, and then move out of the way.
The silence in the room feels deafening. Disorienting as all attention falls on me.
I swallow down the sick feeling and urge myself to black out. Just like I managed earlier with Mandy.
But blacking out when you’re on top of a crying, trembling woman is nowhere near as easy. Flashbacks of my first time with Grace pollute my head. She’d cried too, begged like I had the power to end what was happening to us.
I’d caught her eye, and then she understood. She got that I was just like her. I was forced into this fucked up situation too.
The room watches on in silent interest as I position myself between Teysha’s legs. It takes me a moment to get hard, stroking my dick, reminding myself there’s no choice. If I can’t perform, then I have no use. Then the Leader’s going to turn his ire onto me.
Another thing that wouldn’t be the first time…
I try to tune out our surroundings. Nobody else is around. Nobody else is watching.
It’s just me and this woman on the bed. We’ll do what we have to do as quick as possible to get it over with. Then we’ll go back to surviving our captivity.
I guide myself to Teysha’s entrance and pause for a second. Even if this isn’t consensual—neither of us want this—I was hoping I’d catch her eye like I caught Grace’s.
Make her understand I have to. I’ll make this quick and finish in a hurry. But she won’t look at me. She’s turned her head away, her eyes clenched shut. Her chin quivers as her cries continue, silent and terrified.
It’s enough to hollow out my insides. I’m left with a sinking, empty sensation.
My erection twitches in a warning it’ll soften if I don’t get going.
