Page 50 of Bound To Me

“All of you fucking women are the same, do you know that? Such weak, pathetic pieces of shit.”

He walked around me and pushed me down onto the floor with his foot, face first; I had nothing to stop my fall with my arms being bound as my head hit the floor with a bang. Michael lifted up my hips and my knees steadied on the floor, and I screamed as his hard cock pushed deep inside of me.

“So fucking wet, my sweet Jackie. Such a fucking whore,” he spit out, digging his nails into the flesh of my hips as he thrust quickly in and out of me.

I lost count of the amount of times he slapped down hard on my ass. He wasn’t just tapping me—he was beating me. He was taking out whatever pent up anger he had on me. All I could think was that Hana had left him; she found out who he reallywas and she left him. I hated that I was relieved, that I had him to myself again.

Michael grabbed me by the hair and lifted me up against his chest, putting his hand to my throat with his other hand and squeezing tight—so tight that I quickly passed out with him still inside of me, fucking me hard.

I woke up with my arms and legs tied to his bed. I was lightheaded, and my throat felt bruised. It was dark, and I couldn’t see anything except for a faint light in another room. In the distance, I heard the sound of running water. The water suddenly stopped, and a moment later, Michael walked out, dripping wet, eyeing me with a sinister smile.

“Sweet Jackie. You’ve revived. Are you ready for more?”

My throat ached as I whispered, “Yes, Daddy.”

I would do anything to please him, to make him happy, just so I could be his again.

He laughed as he walked over to his dresser and grabbed something small. It was so dark that I couldn’t see what it was. He slowly walked to his bedside table and turned on the lamp, revealing what was in his hand—a sharp knife.No…oh God, not again.

“I thought it might be more fun to fuck you while I carve my name into you again. Perhaps your arms this time?” He spoke so lightly, as if he were talking about the weather, as he hopped on top of me, straddling me.

“Please, no, Daddy,” I cried, tugging on my bound arms and legs.

“No?” He raised his eyebrows angrily. “You don’t get to say no, sweet Jackie. I own you and your body. I will do as I please.”

I began to cry as he turned around and loosened the rope around my ankles. I didn’t bother to try to fight—it would just anger him more. He made another elaborate knot with my ankles tied to my thighs so I was spread open for him, but unableto move. He lifted my hips up and thrust himself inside of me, holding onto the knife as he smiled down at me, grabbing my breast with his free hand. He quickly pulled out of me and forced himself in my ass, the lubrication from my pussy enough to slide himself inside, but it still hurt. He then held the knife up in his right hand, stilled his hips, and lifted up his left arm in the air. He began to cut himself methodically, and I watched in horror as he spelled out her name—Hana’s name. My chest burned with jealousy.

“See? I’ll never be yours, Jackie,” he hissed as he finished the lastA, blood slowly sliding down his arm, then looked back down at me. “But you? You’ll always be mine.”

He put the bloody knife to my arm and began to carve into me; I cried as the pain seared through my upper half. He began to move his hips, fucking my ass again, as he took a break from my arm.

“I’m gonna fucking come inside of you while you bleed for me,” he spit out angrily. “And then I’m gonna slice your other arm as I make you come for me.”

I kept silent—I couldn’t even scream. My whole body went numb as he came inside of me, the blood dripping from my arm onto his bed. And as if he knew how defeated I felt, he began to rub my clit with his bloody finger. I tried to deny myself of the pleasure, tried to make my body understand that this was not supposed to feel good, not now. But as Michael furiously rubbed my clit, he began to move his hips again, and I screamed out with vexing pleasure as I came under his rough touch.

My body went numb again as Michael laughed and took the knife to my arm. He finished his name on each side of me, and I passed out knowing that someday—someday soon—I was going to die. Not because of him, butforhim.

Now

My voice caught in my throat. I heard laughter from the hallway as other hotel guests happily walked past my room and I felt like screaming for help, but nothing came out.

“Michael. How did you get in here?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He shrugged with a smug smile. “It’s amazing what a little cash and charm can do.” He crossed his legs and held his hand out for me. “Come here, sweet Jackie.”

I faintly shook my head and closed my eyes, my pulse pounding audibly through my ears. “Please leave.”

He immediately laughed. “Oh, baby. I came all the way from New York to see you. And this is how you’re going to treat me?”

I opened my eyes and anger shot through me. “Whydidyou come all the way here, Michael? I didn’t hear a single word from you until a few weeks ago.” Was that hurt coming through in my tone?

He smiled as he narrowed his eyes. “Did that hurt your feelings, baby? I didn’t hear from you either.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “But I’ve missed you. Being locked up all those years had me itching for my sweet, compliant, good girl.”

My hands began to tremble, and my heart swelled in my chest. I hated how happy I felt hearing that he missed me. Why was I letting him speak to me? Why hadn’t I run out of the room screaming bloody murder yet?

“Why aren’t you stalking Hana instead?” I asked bitterly, as if stalking was some sort of romantic gesture.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Hana is a lost cause. But you, sweet Jackie,” he began as he stood up and slowly walked towards me. “You’ve always been so reliable. So eager to please Daddy. And I haven’t fucked anyone in four years; your sweet pussy and ass are all I’ve been thinking about.”

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