Page 17

Greyson

I’d outdone myself. My canvas was fantastic to work with but fuck me, this was better than I could’ve imagined. I loved how Alora looked. Defiant and as terrified as she had been for the past ten days. She was proving harder to break than I thought she’d be, considering how I found her.

I held up the final little piece of torture for the night. “What is that,” Alora asked as she stared at the object. They called it an egg, but to me, it looked more like a massive sperm with a curved tail.

“You don’t know?” She shook her head. This was going to be more fun than I thought. “You put this in your pussy.” Her eyes went wide as she stared at the black object in my hand.

“Why?”

“Are you really in a position to ask questions?” She licked her lips even as her eyes flashed with anger. She was in a constant war with herself, and there was something so intoxicating about that. “Either you can put it in right now in front of me, or I put it in for you.” I smirked. “I’m not going to deny that you giving me a reason to finger your pussy turns me on.” She quickly plucked the device from my fingers and then stared at it. “The thick end goes inside of you, and the tail lays over your clit.” I held out the clear lubricant. Alora opened her mouth and mumbled something under her breath before glaring at me as she dripped the liquid onto the vibrator. Fuck, I was already turned on. The entire shift was going to be a lesson in patience. Alora handed me the tube back and slowly pushed the vibrator inside her pussy. She sucked in a gasp and tensed, and I had to wonder how long it had been since she had sex. The anger was immediate, and my muscles trembled under my skin, demanding to know who had touched her.

She licked her lips and then looked up at me, and the anger was squashed down with the hint of desire staring at me. Alora was trying hard to fight it, and that was fucking hot. I was hard instantly. This would be torture for both of us, but what a sweet and delicious torture it would be. Alora sucked in a breath as she got it settled into place, and I ached to spread her wide. Kneeling in front of her, I held open a pair of black bathing suit bottoms, and she stepped into them.

“So, I’m getting to wear more than this X across my nipples?” She looked down at the two narrow swatches of leather that just covered her. “And I thought you were going to keep me naked and let every guy in the place fuck me.”

Uncontrollable rage gripped me, and I growled. The sound rumbled like an animal in my chest. Alora stepped back, her eyes wide and terrified, as I closed my hand into a fist.

“Don’t ever mention other men fucking you again. They can stare all they want. Men and women can jerk off in the bathroom as they think of you, or they can go home and dream about it being your pussy they are fucking instead of the poor person waiting for them. But they do not, under any circumstance, touch you. If they do, or if you welcome it, then it will be the last thing either of you do. Understood?”

“Yes,” she said, and nodded.

Like water to a flame, the rage extinguished once more. Grabbing the paint, I needed to put on my finishing touches. The red looked like smears of blood running down her body. The rest of the artwork was flowers and bones, which would blend with the lore and coming Mardi Gras.

Stepping back, I admired my work. Alora’s eyes looked darted around the bar, wary of what I’d just done to her and what was yet to come.

“You look so beautiful painted in red, Doll.” I’d always had an eye for art, and some of my favorite pieces came from the street vendors right here. Artists who would never live in the limelight or sell a piece for more than fifty bucks, yet the talent was outstanding. I’d stolen this idea from one of the vendors who painted skulls, turning them into the iconic sugar skull. The tourists ate them up, and now I had a living, breathing version. I’d styled her hair to have the same wildness as the look in her eyes. The thigh-high black boots completed the outfit, but there was one more thing that needed to be done.

“Greyson, everyone is going to stare at me all night. Please don’t do this.”

“Let them stare. Let them see what they will never have because you’re mine, Doll. If one of them so much as brushes a finger against your skin, I’ll gut them and fuck you in their blood.” I traded the paint for the black box and opened it, pulling out the red ball gag. “Turn around,” I ordered, and Alora eyed me and the item in my hand. “What did I say about making me ask twice?”

“Not to.” She turned precariously on the tall heels that almost brought her to eye level with me. “Open your mouth and hold your hair up.”

“Greyson, please….”

“Do as you’re told, Doll, or I’m going to start bringing home pieces of your friends. There are many things I can cut off before they die.” Reaching up, she lifted her hair, and I placed the ball gag in her mouth. Alora dropped her hair over the strap, and I rubbed my cock to help keep it in check before she turned around. “Good girl,” I praised her, grabbing the strap dangling from the leather cuffs now adorning her wrists.

It had taken some work to get my hands on two of these, but the black Xs with cage frame back were now installed and bolted securely to the floor. They were a perfect addition to the darker parts of the bar and would add a depraved sex appeal without taking it so far that we would be classified as a strip club. I’d placed one at the front and back of the stage, and they were now the focal point of the entertainment. The girl hired for the VIP section was going to act captured and sexy, and I told her to really lay it on thick. To scream for help, thrash around, and cry if she could.

Whether Alora tried to summon help tonight to get away was inconsequential. What did matter was that she blended with everything else. Walking her over to the X, I felt hesitation as she tugged on her restraints. I pointed to my little display.

“Back up against the X.” She looked at me and then the rack. “I’m getting tired of repeating myself, Doll.” I tugged her wrist cuffs, and a soft whimper came out around the gag.

Alora closed her eyes for a second but stepped forward and turned to put her back into position. I quickly locked her wrists and then did the same to her ankles just as Lennox came down from upstairs.

“The new girl is here,” he said as he headed to the back but didn’t give Alora a second glance. And that right there was why he was my best friend.

Locked into place, I grabbed the grate on either side of her head and leaned in. “Dance for me like a good girl, Doll.” Alora glared at me, and my cock throbbed inside my jeans.

When she finally broke, it would be so fucking sweet. “You don't want me to punish you. I promise you’ll scream,” I whispered, laughing as the muffled ‘Fuck you’ vibrated through the ball. Smirking, I stepped back and stretched the velvet rope from one side of the stage to the other to keep people from getting too close and touching her. “You will be saying fuck by the end of the night, but you’re going to be begging for it instead, Doll.”

Taking one last look to appreciate my doll, I gave her a wink and walked away to help get our new dancer hooked up to her X.

“This is insane, man,” Lennox commented. “Do you even know what you’re going to do with her long-term?”

“I’m playing it by ear, but you should know by now that I was never sane,” I said as we began to go through opening arrangements.

“That’s the fuckin’ truth.”

Alora

“Ahhh,” I screamed, but no one could hear me, or if they could, they didn’t pay attention. Other than sexual looks and the dick rubs the guys were giving themselves as they stared at me, no one cared what was happening. I moaned and closed my eyes, my body pressed as far back as I could get. He’d been torturing me all night. Hours had ticked by, but he never turned the vibrator on longer than a few seconds to a minute. It was just enough stimulation to have my body craving a release, and then bam, it was shut off, and I was left panting and yearning for more.

It was a sweet madness that had taken control, and I finally understood his words. All I could picture was having him fuck me. My nipples ached, and my clit was so sensitive that even a few seconds of the vibrations had me a writhing mess as I yanked uselessly on the bindings. I was well past the point of caring about being tied up or wet or even if anyone noticed it dripping down my leg. I glanced at the massive clock on the wall and whimpered. It was only midnight. There were at least two more hours to go of this, and I wasn’t sure I could take another minute, let alone hours.

I sucked in a ragged breath, my chest heaving from the last round. I looked up to see Greyson with his shrewd and perceptive stare boring holes into me. His lip twitched as he held up the little remote, and I silently begged him not to do it again.

This place and the entire situation were like being thrown into a pool of overexposure. Alcohol ran like rivers, people left drinks forgotten nearby, and I desperately needed a drop. I kept praying that someone’s drink would splash me in the face. The closest I came was when a guy tripped and spilled his beer. Now, all I could smell was the rich barley scent that made my mouth water.

“You want to come,” he mouthed, and I’d never wanted to scream Yes and Fuck you at the same time so badly in my life.

Greyson leaned on the bar, his muscled arms flexing, and my mouth watered. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and as he had hoped, I was completely transfixed by every little movement he made.

I could fight this. I just needed to be strong. I clamped down on the toy and looked away from Greyson. It would piss him off, and I wasn’t surprised when the vibrating started up once more, but this time he left it on far longer than he had before. Holding the scream back as long as I could, I bit down on the ball gag, but it was no use. My body bucked uncontrollably as the orgasm built, and just like all the other times, he shut the fucking little torture device off. I wanted to cry.

The gentle breeze of someone walking by was enough to make my skin feel like a million little knives were stabbing me. I flicked my gaze up to Greyson, and every curse word I could think of spewed from my mouth and around the ball. I hoped he heard and understood every word as he swung the remote from the little cord around on his finger.

A genuine cry, like a child throwing a tantrum, left my mouth as he did it again and again. The climax was so close I could feel the sweet bliss just out of my reach and bucked my ass hard, trying to find some traction or extra sensation as my body begged to come. During the first hour, I cared that people could see me like an animal on display at the zoo. Not anymore, now I didn’t give a fuck. One person, a hundred people, it didn’t matter if it meant I could come and ease this torture. Sex was so far down the list of my priorities that I’d forgotten just how good it could feel. Mind you, my time with Sam had been short-lived, but I still remembered, and now…hell, I was ready to sell my soul to Greyson if he laid me out on the bar and fucked me right now.

I was lost to the world when suddenly someone was standing right in front of me, and it wasn’t Greyson. Looking up, I locked eyes with a drunk man I’d never seen. Sheer panic replaced everything else as Greyson’s words rang like a bell.

“Well, hello there, gorgeous,” the guy slurred and grabbed my breast. I bit the rubber hard to keep from enjoying the contact, but I was beyond pent up and trying to tame it was like trying to harness the wind. “Fuck girl, you are sexy. Name’s Jon.”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I tried to say, but it was nothing more than an angry moan. Jon cupped my boob again, this time pulling on the strap of fabric covering my nipple. I tried to jerk away from him. He was going to get us both killed.

I didn’t need to see Greyson to know that he was coming. It was like being in tune with danger. Fear filled me and choked off my air supply as Greyson loomed up behind drunken Jon. His eyes were those of a killer. He’d become the man who would happily swim laps in Jon’s blood. Like a caterpillar coming out of its cocoon, so did the side of Greyson that lived hidden under the skin of the sexy playboy. I saw death dancing in his blue eyes.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I didn’t know what I was begging for anymore. Fuck me, kill me, keep me. I’d turned into a clichéd game.

“If you know what’s good for you, then you’ll let go of the dancer and get the fuck out of my bar.” Greyson’s voice was far calmer than the violent look written in his expression.

“Man, I will pay you any amount of money for thirty minutes in the VIP with this one,” Jon said as he reached for the edge of the X like he was going to pull it away, but Greyson grabbed his wrist.

“You wouldn’t last thirty minutes, and you couldn’t afford this girl, even if she agreed to have you.” Greyson’s hard stare found me. “Do you want him?” I frantically shook my head no. He didn’t give anything away, and I had no idea if he believed me. “There you have it. She disagrees. So leave now before I make you.”

“Come on, man,” Jon said, jerking his arm away. “You can’t have something this fucking hot and not expect it to be touched.”

Holy shit, this guy was clueless and so dead. He reminded me of the animal that stood in the middle of the road, staring as certain death came for them. Jon might have lived if he’d just walked away. Although subtle, I saw the shift in Greyson’s eyes and shivered. The guy didn’t even notice when Greyson picked his pocket and slipped the wallet into his own. His glacier-blue gaze found me as he smirked, and my mouth ran dry. It wasn’t the I want to fuck you kind of smirk. It was an I’m going to rip his spine from his body while he screams kind of smirk.

I’d been cocky, pushing him to kill me, but there was a part of me that didn’t really believe it was a possibility like I’d been floating in a sea of denial. Lights and sirens were going off in my brain as if it was finally clued into the danger I was truly in.

Greyson held his hand up, and two bouncers that I’d noticed lingering in corners wandered over. “They are to be seen and not touched. Not ever,” Greyson said, laying his hand on Jon’s shoulder as he unhooked the velvet rope.

“Escort him out and make sure he doesn’t come back. He touched one of the dancers,” Greyson said, and the bouncers cracked their knuckles before grabbing Jon.

“Oh, come on, man. Don’t be a fucking dick,” Jon yelled as he was dragged away. I watched him leave and hoped they killed him cause whatever those two did would be far less than what Greyson did once he got hold of him. I wanted to scream for the guy to run, to leave the city.

As soon as they were gone, Greyson clicked the rope into place but stayed on my side, and goosebumps rose all over my skin.

“What did I tell you?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t want him,” I mumbled. “I swear.”

“Do you need a reminder of what will happen,” he whispered as he leaned in close to my ear. I shook my head, a fresh wave of tears slipping free.

He put his hand in his pocket, and a scream followed my guttural moan as Greyson turned the vibrator on high. I jerked in the restraints, my body brushing against his.

“That’s it, Doll, come for me, and only me.” He groaned in my ear, and the deep erotic sound shot through my body, making me shake uncontrollably. The orgasm was like standing too close to fireworks exploding. My hands clenched into fists, and my back arched, pressing my chest into Greyson as I came. I stared up at the ceiling, but all I could see were white dots as I rode out the intense waves of pleasure ripping through my body.

The buzzing stopped, and I slumped, only remaining upright because the cuffs kept me vertical.

“That was a very good girl,” Greyson said, his voice gruff and thick like he’d just orgasmed with me. That thought shouldn’t have had my pussy clenching, but it did. “I want you to know that later before I wash this paint off you, I’m going to come all over your pretty face. You’re mine, Doll.” He smiled. “For as long as I want to keep you.”

He stepped over the rope and did a one-handed hop over the tall bar. Just like that, he went back to work as if he hadn’t just terrified me, rocked my world, and then fucking terrified me all over again. Nothing was going to fix this. I was fucked.