Page 21 of Forbidden Harvest

Was a part of me hoping for something like this?

After all, quite a few of them involved being taken and dominated by a masked man or multiple, for that matter.

My thoughts drift to my birth father. The violation I experienced at his hands when I was a child. I never told anyone; the shame was too great. He died, and not even my mom knows what he did to me. But somewhere along the way, my mind twisted that traumatic memory into something else. I started having fantasies that made me question my own sanity.

I feel exposed, both physically and emotionally. This stranger witnessed my most vulnerable moments and saw my body’sreactions to reading dark and fucked up stuff. I’m terrified but consumed by a morbid curiosity.

What does he plan to do next?

Will he cause me pain or touch me again?

A sick part of me longs to find out.

Footsteps approach, breaking the silence. “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty. I’ve been patiently waiting for you to wake up.” The distorted voice of my abductor makes my stomach twist.

“Did you miss me, Aria?”Hearing him say my name makes me freeze, remembering that he knows me, yet I’m clueless about his identity.

“Don’t be afraid. We’re just getting started. I have so much more in store for you.” The masked figure moves closer. “You’re wondering who I am and why I chose you, right?”

My heart pounds as I desperately search the figure before me for any hint of his identity. “Who are you? Why me?” I ask.

A low, menacing chuckle escapes from behind the mask. “You already know me, Aria. I’ve been watching you for a very long time.”

His words send a chill down my spine. “Who are you?” I repeat, my voice demanding an answer.

“That’s not important,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sharp knife. “What I’m about to show you is much more interesting.” The knife glints in the dim light as he traces the sharp edge against my skin, leaving a thin, red line on my forearm.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you... much,” he purrs, leaning in close. “Do you feel that, Aria? The blend of pain and pleasure? It’s exquisite.”

As the blood wells up along the line of the cut, my breath quickens. The sting of the blade mixes with the radiating pleasure of being bound and, at this dominant man’s mercy.

“Please...” I whisper, not even sure what I’m pleading for.

“There’s no need to beg,” he says. “I’ll give you far more than you could ever imagine.”

As the blood slowly trickles down my arm, he leans in, adjusting his mask to lick the wound. Disgust wars with desire as a zap of electricity shoots to my core.

“You like that, don’t you?” He teases. “You want to explore how dark this can get.”

Shame washes over me. “What are you doing to me?”

“I’m giving you exactly what you’ve always craved. Soon, you’ll be begging for more.” With that, he lifts my knee and begins to carve into the back of my thigh, his knife cutting deep, and a cry of pain escapes my lips.

“What are you doing?” I gasp, squirming. My mind turns blank with a haze of pleasure and pain.

“I’m marking you.”

Why?” I struggle to focus through the pain.

“No questions.” He snaps, continuing to cut me. “There, it’s done. My mark on you, a souvenir of our time together.”

I whimper, feeling faint as he releases me. “Let me see,” I say, trying to move despite being tied up still, desperate to know what he has carved into my skin.

“Not yet. I want you to guess,” he teases, enjoying the power play. “Guess what I’ve carved into your beautiful skin.”

Through the haze of pain and desire, I struggle to decipher the shapes. “I-I can’t... please, just tell me.”

“Come on, Aria. I know you can do it,” he says, his fingers tracing the marks. “It’s personal, something that symbolizes ownership.”

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