Page 13

13

DORIN

An unfamiliar sense of worry gnaws at me as I take a seat between her legs and lift the butt plug connected to the power box, smearing it with lube.

Her eyes are shut tight, her limbs trembling, and her skin is pale—not just milky white, but sickly so.

And she hasn’t even realized which hole I intend to use yet.

I’ve been hell-bent on using her ass since I fucked Jan and all I could think about was sinking into her tight opening.

I waited a couple of days, seeing how she seemed exhausted and needing time to process, but today, I couldn’t wait any longer.

I woke up with a raging hard-on and the sound of her helpless mewls stuck on repeat in my mind.

It’s only because I jerked off twice—once in the shower and once on a girl I’d just punished—that it’s the plug and not my cock going inside her tight opening.

I don’t want to break her and make her bleed like I do with most girls down here, and something compels me to keep her in this crazy mental facility illusion for a while longer, so this is how I’ll do it.

I’ll train her ass slowly with the pretense of giving her electrotherapy, and my cock will have to wait.

But as I’m about to push the plug against her narrow opening and glance up, I pause.

For the same reasons—which I can’t quite fathom—that I don’t want to break her ass, I don’t want to break her.

Something tells me that’s exactly what I’ll be doing if I proceed like this.

I put away the butt plug, grab the vibrator wand instead, and smear it with lube.

A terrified yelp escapes her as I press it to the top of her pussy, and she clenches her fists with a strength that has her knuckles turning as white as her face.

“No electricity yet,” I reassure.

“I’ll prepare you a bit first, so it won’t be as painful.”

She yelps as I press the button to start the vibrations, and her eyes fly open—wide, terrified, and confused.

But also relieved after a few seconds as my words seem to register.

I keep the vibrations at a low setting, not wanting to draw out her need too quickly and make her desperate for release.

She’s not getting an orgasm before I’ve done what I came here for—at least the electro part of it.

Slowly, the color returns to her face as blood seeps into her cheeks, creating a nice rosy hue, and the tension drains from her fisted hands, her hips moving in tiny wriggles against the leather belts.

When she lets out a tiny moan behind the thick layer of gauze, I know she’s ready.

I put the vibrator aside and pick up the probe for her pussy.

Her eyes widen as she watches me smear lube onto it, but her breaths remain lustful pants, and her hips keep moving ever so slightly.

As I grab the remote control, I consider starting at a low voltage, but I’ve already shown her more than plenty of mercy.

I set it at a high medium and press the button.

A surge of power rushes through me as she jerks, squeezing her eyes shut and crying out into the bite block.

But along with the rush comes that unfamiliar worry again as I wait to see her reaction.

Fuck, if it isn’t the best thing I’ve ever seen as she watches me with wide eyes full of utter vulnerability.

The fear and pain are still there, but so is acceptance.

There’s nothing she can do about this, but instead of fighting it, she accepts it and lets me take control.

So I do just that.

I turn the voltage up, just a smidgen, and press the button again.

Her wail has my cock straining against my pants, and I trail my eyes over her body in fascination as her muscles coil tight, then slowly relax.

Her eyes peel open, swimming with worry and desire, and this time, a few tears.

One spills over and trails down her cheek, and it causes her to squeeze her eyes shut, trying to rein them in.

To hide from me.

A surge of anger twitches in my fingers, and I turn the voltage up a decent notch and zap her.

I won’t have her hiding from me.

This time, her scream is hysteric, and her eyes remain shut as she jerks and strains.

Tears spill down the sides of her face, and her jaw tightens as she bites her teeth together—the same thing she does whenever she tries to hide and hold back the grief.

She clenches it so tight I can see it even behind the thick layer of gauze.

“Look at me,” I say, but she shakes her head against the head strap, and her refusal sends a surge of irate energy through my blood.

“Look at me,” I demand with a power that bounces off the walls and makes her eyes fly open.

Pushing up from the stool, I’m at her side in a flash, claiming those eyes before she can shut them again.

Pressing a hand on the opposite side of the table, I lean down to make my eyes the only goddamn thing she sees.

Because that’s what I want.

I want to be the only thing that matters to her.

I want to consume her world, draw out her pain, and coax her desire.

In that warped moment, I want it fucking all.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes again,” I say with a rumbling warning.

More tears flow down her cheeks, and her chest shakes with ragged breaths as she struggles to hold in the grief and the shock.

But I won’t let her.

Grabbing her chin, I demand her full attention as I press the button again.

She cries out into the makeshift gag, convulsing hard as the pain zaps through her.

“Look at me,” I demand the moment her eyes snap shut.

She obeys.

It’s the sweetest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen as she peels her eyes open and stares up at me with a deep plea in her eyes, her brows tightening with barely processed pain and grief, and tears welling and spilling.

“So fucking beautiful,” I say, leaning down to press my lips to her forehead, below the strap.

Confusion flickers in her wide eyes as I draw back, just enough to see those eyes.

“Give me those tears, pretty songbird. I want to see you cry.” I put down the remote, release the head strap, and press my hand to her cheek.

“Give me all that pain and grief, so I can take it away.”

She gives the slightest shake of her head, but the tears are already coming faster, her breaths shaking with suppressed sobs.

Her jaw clenches and unclenches, and her fists do the same as a world of pain seems to rise and fall within her.

She’s holding back, but also trying to release it.

She’s still thinking too much, so I take the remote again, turn up the voltage, and press.

Even muffled by the stuffing in her mouth, her scream is shrill and painful as she bucks her strung-tight body against the restraints.

It’s almost painful to witness, but powerful, nonetheless.

Before she can disappear into herself, I press my forehead to hers and whisper, “Stay with me.”

I have no idea what I’m doing.

For a moment as I stand there, cupping her cheeks and holding her with an intimacy I’ve never understood, I see myself from the outside.

It feels pathetic, and I’m about to pull away.

But then her eyes draw open, and a sob wrenches from her chest, setting loose a cascade of tears that spills onto my hands in warm splashes of sorrowful rain.

All thoughts vanish as she becomes the only thing that matters—keeping her safe and taking away her pain.

“Let it loose, my little songbird,” I urge.

“I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe.”

More sobs rack through her body, making her shake against the leather, and her breathing becomes hazardous above the gauze as she struggles to draw in air through her nose.

Her despair is so deep it aches in my own heart, breathing life into the cold and quiet organ that I shut down so many years ago when I was just a boy.

It’s not for her sake that I suddenly have my knife out to cut loose the gauze, then unbuckle the straps with hastened motions.

It’s for me.

The moment the last strap is gone, I hoist her up.

A relief unlike any I’ve ever felt washes over me as I sit on the edge of the padded surface and curl her into my arms.

Her hands clutch my T-shirt with a desperation that seems to ache in her very bones, and grief sends ugly sounds up through her chest as she presses her head into my shoulder.

But there’s nothing ugly about her.

Her pain is the most beautiful, raw, and honest thing I’ve ever felt, and I relish every second of it as I hold her tight.

“I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you as long as I have you,” I promise.

It just might be the sincerest words I’ve ever spoken.