Page 18 of Cruel Master
Why did I have to picture that? For all I know, that’s his second punishment.
My eyes blur as I try to focus on the numbers, and I’m not sure if it’s from tears or the relentless darkness. Five minutes to go. I can do this. I can fucking do this.
My thoughts swirl. As hard as I try to think logically about what’s happening, I just can’t. I’m trapped in something thatstill doesn’t feel real, despite the pain, and logic doesn’t have a chance. He knows me. He’s already inside my head, and what he’s doing is working.
The door clicks open, and I almost wet myself as it thunks shut.
He’s here, and I still can’t see him. He has to have night vision. It’s the only explanation.
I strain my senses, desperate for some way to locate him, but he’s a fucking ghost. The pain fades as I slow my breathing, listening. Still, there’s absolutely no warning until the loud buzz rips through the air, and an extra-strong vibrator hammers into my clit.
Jesus fucking fuck.
I yelp and jerk, but there’s nowhere to go. He leans his weight on my back, trapping me as the crazy vibrations batter me. Too much. Way too much, and I twitch against him. “No. Stop. You—”
I almost say fucker. It’s right there, but he told me what would happen, didn’t he? More of this. More time here with the plug in my ass. I’m trapped in his game, and he makes the rules. He doesn’t seem the type to forget a threat.
“Relax and take it.” His gravelly voice, in the darkened room, sounds less human than it did before. Everything is warping into pure insanity. He punctuates the words by twisting the plug, and I yell.
Christ.
The movement reignites the burn, but it does something else, too. The vibrations still batter me, but the flare of pain changed things, and they feel different. My body isn’t trying to pull away from them anymore. They’re a lifeline through the pain, and I latch on to them as he twists the plug again.
It starts to feel good. Even in this fucked-up situation, my body responds to the pain and vibrations like a well-trained dog. Pleasure surges, and I close my eyes, fighting it. I can’t let him make me come like this. It’ll just reinforce his messed-up view of me. If he makes me orgasm on his stone goddamn altar, I’ll never convince him this isn’t what I want.
As if he can see into my head and not just through the darkness, he says, “Relax, Juliet. You can’t stop it.”
I can. I fucking can. I tense and will myself to dissociate from the sensations flooding me. I’m in control; he can’t push me over the edge if I don’t want him to. But he grips the plug and tugs, sliding it out to the widest point. The stretch on my sore ass draws a scream from my lips, and I lose my mental hold on myself.
The savage vibrations do their work, and pleasure takes over.
I’m trapped, helpless to stop it as my stomach tightens. All I can do is bite my lip, catapulting over the edge. My body spasms on the altar and the orgasm rips through me, blasting unwanted pleasure deep into my guts. It overwhelms me, and my head spins as I pant, trying to pull together the fractured parts of my brain.
Fuck. No.
He pulls the plug free and keeps the vibrations going as I ride the wave, shaking with the intensity of it. Then he turns it off just as the timer hits zero and lets out a frantic beeping.
“Your first punishment is over,” he announces as though he didn’t just blow my mind from the inside out. He taps the timer, silencing it, and picks it up. Without it, the darkness becomes total again, and even though I’m now sure he can see me, I’m glad of it.
That was amazing.
Shut the fuck up.
I can’t let myself enjoy any of this, not even the parts copy and pasted straight from the darkest parts of my brain. If I do, he’ll know, and it’ll encourage him. This isn’t a dom performing a carefully constructed scene. He's a psychopath, and I’ll never beat him if I start letting my messed-up sexuality feed into his delusions.
The lights snap on.
I hiss and squeeze my eyes shut. A few seconds later, I risk opening them—slowly—and the room comes back into view. It’s jarring all over again, the eerie perfection of it. I’d half expected it to look different after so long in the dark.
Where the hell is Saldar? I can only twist my neck a little, and I can’t see him. I yelp as he touches me, fingers probing my soaked pussy. It feels more personal somehow, with the lights on. More of a violation.
I manage, “Stop it,” and he pauses his exploration.
“I own this body. You don’t get a say in what happens to it.”
I shiver as he presses first one, then two fingers into me. Fluttery panic starts again at the casual way he does it. As if it’s no big deal. I don’t know who this man is, I’ve never seen his face, and his fingers are inside me. After what he just did with the plug, I don’t know why it affects me so much, but it does. It’s different.
“Get your hands off me. You—”
