Page 6

6

DORIN

“Get the fuck out of here,” I snarl.

Though, it’s more of a habitual reaction to getting interrupted than anything else.

As I cast a look at the girl on the table, I’m actually glad Dax came in and snapped me out of my sadistic tunnel vision.

I was about to use her virgin ass.

Hard, like I usually do.

I have fucked enough women—and men—in the ass to know when it’s a virgin hole, and I’d bet a million bucks this girl has never had a pinkie up there.

Usually, that knowledge only drives me to go harder.

I love to taint and tarnish innocent things.

But all I see as I watch her milky white skin covered in cuts and burns is the broken woman in the bathtub.

The one I saved.

I don’t think I’ve ever saved a life before.

I’ve taken plenty, but mercy has never been in my nature.

With this girl, though, everything is different.

I’ve been going through my usual routines since I brought my little songbird to the dungeon—punishing women, fucking their assholes, and even branding one.

But every time I step into her cell and see her petite frame and angelic face, something shifts inside me.

Something that compels me to mend rather than break.

Possess rather than mar and discard.

Ignoring my rebuke, Dax points at the messy, but effective job I’ve done of keeping her quiet.

“You know, I’m actually working on something that will do the job more efficiently. Something more convenient. Let me know if you’d like me to make a piece for you.”

“This works fine,” I tell him.

It would be easier with something other than the gauze, but I kind of like the messy look.

It’s not that she even needs the protection for her teeth with the kind of electricity I’ll be giving her, so I could have used a simple panel gag to shut her up, but that wouldn’t play into her misconception of being at a mental facility.

Dax goes to grab something in a drawer across the room, and I can’t help but notice how my little songbird stares after him with hopeful eyes.

I’m sure that if her mouth wasn’t stuffed and shut, she’d be begging Dax to get her out of this.

She’d tell him how reckless I am for administering electrotherapy without a doctor present, that it’s illegal without anesthesia, and how immoral it is to do it in the ass or some shit like that.

“What’s so funny?” Dax asks as he passes me again.

“Nothing. I might tell you later.” And maybe I will.

Dax and I aren’t close.

I’m not close to anyone, really.

But I guess he’s the person whose company I tolerate the most down here.

Once in a while, I even find it enjoyable.

So maybe I’ll let him in on this little game I’m playing with this girl.

Or maybe not.

Once the door slams shut and we’re alone again—just me and my quiet little victim—I go back to work.

I never cover my hands, but once again, for the sake of the illusion, I break from my habits and snap on white latex gloves.

Then I grab the long metal probe and smear lube on it before positioning it against her pussy.

Only then do I look at her again.

She’s shuddering all over.

Even her eyelids seem to tremble above her wide and unblinking eyes.

She can’t see what’s going on between her legs, but I made sure to move the probe through her line of sight to give her a good look at the polished metal.

She shakes her head against the leather strap as I push the tapered tip inside, and my dick strains against my jeans.

The first violation is always the best.

That initial terror combined with a sliver of hope that something just might shift.

I relish every second of it, holding her gaze as I push it in.

A defeated whimper escapes her as I settle it deep inside her, and she shuts her eyes tight as the realization that she can’t do shit washes over her.

I finish with a wide strap that I draw between her legs and attach to the waist belt, keeping the probe locked in place.

Once the initial fear has waned, I don’t care to draw things out anymore, so I grab the remote, set it at a medium voltage, and press the green button.