Page 88 of Inferno

She sounds sexually inexperienced in the BDSM world.

Likes: spanking. Being tied up. Blindfolds.

Hard limits: none.

Everyone has a hard limit in this game. Not that they exist during the games themselves. But in the end, the winning woman gets a choice. Take the money and run, or if we both so choose, they can become my submissive for the year. Yet, I haven’t come across a woman who interests me so far to offer her that deal.

Now looking at Ebony’s answers, I want to find her hard limit. This gut instinct wants to take her, break her, and mold her into the perfect submissive for me.

There is nothing better than breaking one in to be mine.

“There’s one you like, isn’t there? You know the rules, Declan. We can’t have favorites.”

I bite the inside of my lip.

“I'm the head of the family. I can do whatever the fuck I like, Conan,” I growl in annoyance.

Maybe this is just what I need to finally get over my mystery girl.

Someone else to shatter instead.

That’s how I get my pleasure now. Inflicting my pain on others.

Those who are hurt, hurt other people. And that’s the harsh reality of my world.

“Let me see.” Before I can swipe it out of the way, he grabs it from my fingers.

“Oh, sexy name. Ebony.”

A pang of jealousy shoots through me.

“Enough.”

“And she likes spankings. Pretty bland other than that. What caught your eye?”

He scans the report, and then I watch the light switch go off as his green eyes look up from the paper.

“No fucking hard limits. Brother, this girl has to win. Imagine the shit you can do to find them. I want her in my games. I’ll give you one of my girls. Do a swap?”

“Exactly my thoughts. And no. Fuck off.”

I snatch it back and place it with the others.

“So, you gonna influence the games? Or take part this time? You should. It’s fun. Just wear a mask so no one sees your face.”

Maybe I could watch from the sidelines this year rather than from a monitor screen. Both Conan and Finn immerse themselves in their own versions of the Decadence games. Finn’s, well, we stay well away from that.

But if this woman is that inexperienced, I have no hope of her winning. Unless she really is telling the truth and has no hard limits.

But that’s about as likely as a magical chicken shitting out golden eggs full of cocaine at this point.

“No. We never influence the games. That’s the entire point, Conan. They have to survive by their own right to earn their ticket to freedom.”

He chuckles.

“Someone should look inside our brains. We’re all fucked up, Dec. Even our precious doctor, Finn. I bet his contestants are like a test experiment.”

He clears his throat and gets into his “Finn” character. Those two are like chalk and cheese. Conan, the cage fighting lunatic that never shuts the fuck up, and then Finn, the brooding doctor, intelligent as hell. He’s quiet yet won’t even blink when slicing someone up. Possibly the truest psychopath you can get.

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