Page 15

15

RYKER

H er sobbing fills the room like music to my ears—the sweet sound of walls coming down. I’ve suspected this about Kira, catching glimpses in her search history and how her breath catches when I take control during our gaming sessions. However, hearing her admit it out loud is better than I imagined.

“So you’ve always wanted this.” I drag my finger along her tear-stained cheek. “To be completely dominated. To have someone take what they want while you pretend to resist.”

Her eyes flutter closed, shame and arousal warring on her face.

“You’ve dreamed about it while touching yourself. You’ve pictured Ghost forcing you to submit.” I lean closer, my lips brushing her ear. “That’s why you followed GhostDaddy obsessively. Why you never declined a game with Rogue.”

“Please...” Her voice breaks.

“No reward this time, Kira.” I pull back, keeping my expression neutral despite the satisfaction. “You weren’t honest at first. Made me work for that confession when you should have given it freely.”

The restraints jingle as she shifts, testing their give. Finding none.

“Maybe you’ll earn something with the next question.” I stroke her hair, gentle yet possessive. “Tell me about the first time you touched yourself thinking about me, about Rogue. What was the fantasy? Don’t skip any details.”

I adjust the dial on the remote in my hand, making sure she sees the movement. “And remember, I’ll know if you’re lying. I always know.”

I sit back, enjoying her internal struggle—how her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, the flicker of resignation in her eyes when she realizes there’s no escaping this confession.

“I...” Kira’s voice cracks. She swallows hard, her gaze fixed on the ceiling rather than meeting mine. “The first time was after that match against SkullCrushers. You stayed up coaching me until three a.m...”

Her words gain momentum like a dam breaking.

“I imagined you tall—taller than me by a lot. Dark hair that I could grab onto.” A deep flush spreads across her chest, climbing her neck. “Your voice was so deep over the headset that night, and I pictured you as muscular. Really built, with tattoos covering your arms and chest.”

I lean forward, drinking in every syllable. She’s describing me.

“I pictured you walking into my room, not saying anything, just... taking what you wanted.” Her breathing quickens. “Pinning me down, ripping my clothes off. Not asking permission.”

The corner of my mouth twitches upward. Her fantasy mirrors my reality so closely it’s uncanny. Like she’s been waiting for me all along.

“And...” she hesitates, her face burning crimson now.

“Continue,” I command, thumb hovering over the punishment button. “Every. Detail.”

“I imagined you had a piercing. Down there.” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “A Prince Albert. I saw it in porn once and couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel inside me, how you’d use it to make me beg.”

My cock stiffens instantly against my jeans.

“I came so hard thinking about it,” she confesses, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “I was ashamed afterwards, but I kept doing it. Over and over. Imagining you forcing me to?—”

I press my palm against her mouth, silencing her, not because I want her to stop but because I need a moment to savor the symmetry of our desires.

The confessions fall from her lips like jewels I’ve been hunting for. Her fantasy lines up so accurately with my plan that I almost laugh. The universe has a way of delivering what truly belongs to me.

“I think you’ve earned a reward after all.”

I reach for my belt, the metal buckle making that distinctive sound that causes her breath to catch. Slowly, deliberately, I unbutton my jeans.

“Something you should know,” I say, my voice low as I lower my zipper. “In the maze, when you had your mouth on me—” I pause, enjoying how her cheeks flush at the memory, “—I wasn’t showing you everything.”

Confusion crosses her face. I free myself from my boxers, letting her see all of me. Her gaze drops and her pupils dilate immediately when she spots the glint of steel through my cock—the curved barbell of a Prince Albert piercing catching the light.

“Oh my God.” She’s unable to look away.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” I move closer. “Of course you do. I found it in your browser history. ‘Prince Albert piercing pleasure,’ ‘what does Prince Albert feel like inside,’ ‘men with cock piercings’—the dirty research rabbit hole you went down.”

Her lips part, no sound emerging.

“I got it done nine months ago,” I continue, caressing her inner thigh. “Specifically for you.”

I grip her chin, forcing her to look into my eyes. “I had to remove it during our little game in the maze. Didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” I stroke myself slowly, letting her see how the piercing moves. “I know all your fantasies, Kira. Every dark corner of your mind. You’ve been too ashamed to admit every twisted desire, even to yourself.”

The metal glints as I move it, mesmerizing her.

“This is just the beginning of how I’ll fulfill every single one.”

“For your honesty, I think you deserve a little comfort,” I tell her, stroking her hair while my other hand continues working my length. “Your reward is simple—you get to suck on me. Like a pacifier. Just for a few minutes.”

That familiar conflict flashes across her face.

“No need to do anything fancy. No need to make me come. Just take me in your mouth and suckle like the good girl I know you are.” I move closer, adjusting her restraints to give her enough freedom to reach me. “This is meant to soothe you and calm your nerves before we continue.”

I position myself at her lips. Kira hesitates momentarily before parting them. The warmth of her mouth engulfs me, and I suppress a groan of satisfaction. Her tongue instinctively finds the metal piercing, exploring its curve with cautious curiosity.

“That’s it,” I murmur, threading my fingers through her hair. “Just like that.”

I watch in fascination as the tension in her body begins to melt away. Her eyes drift half-closed, the rhythm of her sucking becoming steady and almost meditative. The psychological shift happening before me is incredible—she’s using me to comfort herself, just as I knew she would.

Her breathing synchronizes with the gentle motion. I can practically see her thoughts quieting, her mind accepting the moment. This is more intimate than any frantic fucking could be—this is psychological surrender at its purest.

“You’re doing so well,” I praise, my voice low and soothing. “Such a pretty mouth. Such a beautiful girl.”

The minutes pass, and I carefully withdraw before I get too close to the edge. Her lips chase after me momentarily before she catches herself, eyes fluttering open to meet mine.

“Did that help?” I ask, knowing the answer from the dazed look in her eyes and the relaxed set of her shoulders.

She nods almost imperceptibly, her defenses temporarily dismantled.

“Good,” I say, readjusting her restraints and preparing for the next level of our game. “Now for the next question.”

I tuck myself back into my jeans. The glazed look in her eyes suits her and makes her even more beautiful. Her lips are slightly swollen, glistening with saliva. My beautiful pet is learning.

I lean closer, stroking her cheek with my thumb, feeling her lean into my touch despite herself. This vulnerability is the canvas for my next question.

“Tell me,” I start, my mouth inches from her ear, “if I brought your friend Jenna here, would you hold her down for me?”

Her body goes rigid, eyes flying open in horror.

“What did you just?—”

I press the remote button, sending a short shock through her body. Just enough to remind her of the rules.

“Answer the question.” I sweep my palm over the plane of her stomach. “If I decided I wanted her too, would you help me take her? Would you whisper in her ear that everything would be okay while I tied her up? Would you tell her to stop fighting because it only makes me want her more?”

She’s shaking her head, tears gathering.

“Would you get wet watching me break her the way I’m breaking you?” I continue, voice soft and reasonable. “Or would you be jealous? Would you beg me to hurt her worse than I hurt you to prove you’re still my favorite?”

“Please stop,” she sobs.

“There’s no right answer here, Kira.” I grip her chin, forcing her eyes up. “I want to see how far the darkness in you goes. Because I know it’s there. I’ve always known. That’s why we belong together.”

I run my thumb across her trembling bottom lip. “So tell me. Your best friend. Would you sacrifice her to please me? To keep me? Or would you try to save her?”

I notice the exact moment something breaks inside her. My question about Jenna shatters whatever fragile equilibrium she’s been maintaining. Her face contorts, and tears flood her eyes—not the few tears from before, but a torrent of raw emotion.

“Fuck you.” The words barely escape through her sobs. “You fucking psycho.”

Her body thrashes against the restraints with renewed vigor. The calm from moments ago vanishes completely, replaced by visceral rage.

“Is that jealousy I see?” I ask, tilting my head as I study her reaction. “Interesting. You don’t want to share me.”

“You leave Jenna out of this. She has nothing to do with this!” she screams, face flushed with anger.

I grab her jaw, savoring how she jerks away from my touch. “Everything in your life has to do with me now.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Her words come through gritted teeth, eyes burning with hatred. “I’m not answering your sick question. I won’t play this game.”

I sit back, observing her rebellion with clinical interest. This is expected—necessary, even. Breaking points reveal the truth.

“Go fuck yourself, Ryker.” She spits the words at me. “I don’t care what you do to me. I’m not helping you hurt anyone else.”

Her defiance is beautiful in its own way—like watching a wounded animal bare its teeth—pointless but admirable.

“I’m not telling you anything else,” she continues. “Shock me all you want. I don’t care anymore.”

Her defiance makes me smile, and pride swells in my chest. This—this right here—is why she’s mine.

“That’s exactly the right answer.” My voice softens as I reach for her face, wiping away tears with my thumb. “You passed.”

Confusion flickers across her features, her rage momentarily derailed.

“I would never bring Jenna here. Never touch her.” I stroke her hair gently, soothing. “That was a test, and you passed beautifully.”

Her breathing comes in ragged gasps, uncertainty replacing anger in her eyes.

“I only get hard for you, Kira. Only dream about you.” I press my forehead against hers, feeling her tremble. “There’s never been anyone else. There never will be.”

I cup her face between my palms. “I needed to see if there was a line you wouldn’t cross for me. If there was still that core of goodness inside you—the part that makes you special.”

Her face crumples, and fresh tears spill down her cheeks.

“You protected your friend even while restrained, drugged, and terrified.” My thumbs brush away the wetness on her skin. “That loyalty, that heart—it’s why I chose you. Why I’ve always chosen you.”

A sob tears from her throat, her entire body shaking with it. The psychological whiplash breaks her, and she collapses into herself, crying with desperation.

“Shhh, you did so well.” I kiss her forehead, her temple, the corner of her eye. “I’m so proud of you.”

Her sobs intensify, echoing through the room as fear, confusion, and trauma pour out. I hold her face, continuing to whisper praise and devotion while she breaks apart in my hands.