Page 79 of Flirting with Darkness

“What do you plan to do with me?” I manage to ask in a whisper.

It must not be against the rules.

But I already know what he’ll do. He’s a leery, disgusting man who believes himself beyond all punishment, and entitled to anything he sets his eyes on.

I glance at the bulge in his tight pants, dread coiling inside me.

Jaynus catches my gaze. “You’ll service me, of course, and mayhaps bear me a child—humans are so proficient at that. And when I have no need of you, you may assist the maids and the cooks.”

From an independent woman, I’ve turned into an eighteenth-century maid overnight.

Not even a maid. Those have a right to resign, and independence of action.

A slave.

“We’ll need to get you dressed, first. I can’t be seen at the conclave with a third-rate whore. The vulgarity, I approve of.” His eyes rake over me from head to toes.

I want to bleach my skin, and cover myself in a burka to avoid his leer.

“But I can’t abidecheap.”

7

DARINA

The getup I'm wrapped into is certainly not cheap. I don't know much about luxurious materials, but the stones, the gold, and the silk feel quite real to me.

It's also not a dress. The attire's heavy and there's plenty of fabric, but it covers me far less than my tube dress did.

There are two long soft pink strands of sheer and soft fabric running from my shoulders down to my feet, glued into place to cover my nipples, but not much else of my bust. At the waist, they're gathered by a thick belt, richly adorned with jewels, the likes of which I've never seen before—sapphires, pearls, silver or white gold, all shaped like snowflakes and pinecones. The fabric lightens, from sheer to downright transparent mid-thigh, and parts at the apex of my exposed thighs.

The back is worse. There's nothing but a single silvery chain attaching the strands behind my neck. Entirely bare until the belt low on my waist, I'm only covered by a few inches of shredded threads attached to the front, that do nothing to cover my ass.

I look like I dressed to be fucked, exactly as Jaynus intended.

One day, somehow, I'm going to kill him. I'll shove something sharp inside him and twist it to make it hurt.

I've never had that impulse before, and its strength overwhelms me.

Two strange creatures attend to me, placing the material where it should go—I certainly wouldn't have been able to guess by myself. Both are female, I think, though I can't call them women. The shorter one has skin green as moss and a fiery cloud for hair. Her companion's ink black everywhere, except for her wide sapphire eyes and the long mane of the same hue.

They're both attired in identical dark blue clothes, and considering I've met their master, I am certain he chose the uniform: a boned blouse pinching their waists into place and enhancing their slim figures, with a long skirt of a silky cloth that clings to every one of their curves.

My captor reappears when his servants finish attaching the threads on my ass to the belt.

"Perfection." He grins and comes to my side. "Bring me honor at the conclave, and I will reward you."

I have no clue what this conclave he speaks of is, but I don’t care. I spit on his face, glad no command prevents me from doing so.

To my surprise the corner of his lips hikes farther up. I expected anger, but he's delighted.

I still flinch when his hand reaches out to my face, but he only brings his finger to my lips, running his thumb over my mouth.

"I'll punish you later, pretty worm. It wouldn't do to ruin your gown and make us late for the conclave." He turns his attention to the servant. "Bring restraints and a paddle to my bedside. My thrall wishes to play, and we shall on our way back."

I hide the panic that twists my insides. I could ask what good restraints will be, when he could order me to do anything he'd like, but I don't have to.

This monster wants me to fight. He wants me to bite and kick and spit, so he can punish me for it.

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