Page 19

Celeste

Blood in the Cut by K. Flay

Two Weeks Later

S ome would call this torture. Others might call it pleasure. I’m currently landing somewhere in the middle of the two—pleasurable torture. Is that a thing? I’ve been strapped to this bed all day. My ankles and wrist are bound to the bed posts, leaving me spread eagle. My head is covered by a leather hood, meaning I can’t see a damn thing. Chained and left in darkness for most of the day—that is definitely tortuous.

But the buzzing between my thighs—that is pure pleasure. Master has been teasing me all day. I’m a dripping mess by this point. He left me chained up in nothing but this little leather strip covering my pussy with a vibrator tucked slightly inside of me. It’s so close to where I need it, but not close enough to let me come. It’s been a dizzyingly delicious torture all damn day as he turned the vibrations on and off, constantly driving me to the edge but never letting me fall over.

They stop again and I sigh, slumping down onto the bed. I’m spent. I am so desperate to come at this point I would do whatever he asked of me. He’s got me right where he wants me.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been living as my master’s perfect little pet. It’s the freest I’ve ever felt. For the first time in a very, very long time I’m not plagued by a persistent and nagging anxiety. I usually wake up to Luke between my thighs, eating me out before we fuck and get dressed for our day. I make my master breakfast and see him off to work, before heading to the in-home gym and working out. Then I get to spend my days reading or decorating our new home. He’s given me his black card and free range to spend whatever I need turning this old house into our home. The only rule is that I can’t be seen by the delivery drivers, but it’s easy enough to hide out and pretend to be gone when they bring the deliveries. I always make sure to schedule them for when Luke will be home. Then my evenings are spent servicing Master and being his good little sub when he gets home from work. Each night, I curl up safe and loved in our giant king-sized bed. Whoever said captivity was a punishment, was clearly not living this type of captivity. Somewhere along the line my monster turned into my master, and I couldn’t be happier.

I know that he’d do anything for me; he would give me the world if I asked for it. But being his submissive has allowed me the freedom I’ve been craving my entire life. It’s as if the weight I’ve been carrying all my life is lifted from my shoulders every time I sink to my knees in dutiful submission. Apparently all I needed was a cage to help me find my freedom.

The only person I’m really allowed to talk to, besides Luke, is his housekeeper—Mrs. Prichett. She’s the nicest little old lady I’ve ever met. I am thoroughly enjoying having her teach me how to bake and cook. Who knew baking shit was so relaxing? I’m not sure there’s been a day that I’ve truly missed my old life—well, besides Liv. I miss my best friend desperately. I wonder if she’s noticed that I’m gone. She’s a bit of a free spirit, always off doing her own thing. But I think by now she’d be wondering why I haven’t texted her back, at least, I hope she would.

A loud bang pulls me from my thoughts. It sounds like the door crashing open. I swing my head in the direction of the noise, but I can’t see a damn thing with this hood on. I don’t need to see him to sense him though.

My master is home.

“Have you been a good girl for me today, Sweetness?” he asks. I can hear his footsteps approaching the bed.

My entire body is on fire with anticipation as he steps toward me. I am a desperate, aching mess for this man. He’s sin, sex, and sweetness all rolled into the most attractive of packages. My very own demon of delights here to drag me into the pleasures of Hell with him. For him, I’d gladly crawl on my knees through fire.

“Please,” I beg in a whiny tone that I can’t contain. His finger runs oh so lightly along the skin of my exposed stomach. I can feel my flesh pebbling just from his very light touch.

“Do you want to come?” he taunts as his finger travels further down, running over the leather strap covering my aching pussy. “Have you not enjoyed the gifts I’ve been giving you?”

“I loved them, Master.” I push my hips up, desperate for more of his touch. “But please, Sir, may I come now? Please?”

“So fucking needy, baby girl.” He tsks as he runs his hands over my exposed skin, driving me wild.

Suddenly, the sharp sting of a slap lands on my thigh. I scream out as my body registers the pain.

“Unfortunately, I’ve had a very long day and I need you to help me out before I give you what you need. Can you do that for me, Sweetness?”

“Yes, Master,” I reply after a moment. I’m not quite sure what he means. We haven’t played this game before.

My hesitancy is unacceptable. I know this. I shouldn’t have held back on my submission. Another sharp slap lands on my other thigh. I can’t help the shriek of pain that leaves my lips.

“I want to see you marked as mine, covered in red and bruises, dripping with need for your master’s cock. Then and only then will I let you come. You can have my cock in your tight little pussy when you’ve earned it. Do you understand?” he asks me as he softly soothes the sting by rubbing his warm palms across my tender flesh.

“Please, Sir … use me however you need,” I say in my sweetest and most submissive voice.

He rewards me by releasing my wrists from their bindings. I let out a groan of satisfaction and rub my aching wrists. Next, he releases my ankles. I happily stretch. He’s left me tied up before, but today was extra long. Something must have distracted him or kept him from me. I suddenly feel a bit self-conscious. But then his fingers find their way beneath the leather covering me, running up and down along my folds.

“You’re soaking wet for me, Sweetness. Does my girl need her master to make her feel good?” he croons as he removes the vibrator and begins rubbing soft circles around my clit.

It feels so good but it’s not enough. I need more.

“Please, Master,” I beg him.

He pulls his hand back and I whine at the loss. I am so fucking desperate to come. He’s been edging me all damn day. I’m aching. He grabs me and moves me to a sitting position. I try my best not to pull away or resist, but the sharp sting of another slap to my thighs has my body instinctively submitting to him.

“Sit here and do not fucking move,” he growls before I hear his steps moving across the room.

“Maybe my pet needs a leash to remind her who she belongs to. What do you think?” he asks as he comes back and clasps a stiff leather collar around my throat.

I thought the collars, the leashes, and all that shit, would be demeaning. I was so opposed at first. But I can’t deny how my body responds to them. The snug tightness around my throat makes me feel … owned . Like I’m his precious pet. Over the past few weeks I’ve come to crave his possessive aggression. My pussy weeps as he clips a leash to the front, the sound of the metal eliciting a shiver down my spine.

“Yes, Master,” I agree as I spread my legs wide for him.

Perched on the edge of the bed, exposed, collared, and leashed, I’m sure I look like his ideal meal. I want to be his good girl. The praise he gives me when I do well for him sends pleasure tingles straight to my pussy. He jerks the leash, causing my throat to bob forward and my head to snap back slightly.

“Get on all fours like a good pet and crawl to your master,” he commands.

Fuck me . That deep and commanding tone of his does things to me.

Without hesitation, I drop to all fours and begin crawling toward where his voice came from. I can’t help the slight smirk that pulls at my lips as I imagine how I must look for him before I dutifully dip my head down in submission. My ass sways seductively as I cross the room toward my man.

He pulls the leash until I’m right in front of him, and then he stops. I immediately sit back on my heels as I’ve been taught. His approving hum makes my pussy throb with need.

Something soft and silky rubs against my lips as I sit completely still.

“Kiss it,” he demands as he continues to rub the soft crown of his cock against my mouth. I purse my lips, tenderly kissing and sucking on the very tip but not taking him fully into my mouth.

“Good fucking girl, Sweetness.” His deep timbre is so seductive as he slowly pulls away from me. “Stand and remove everything.”

I immediately comply as I stand for him and let the leather thong fall between my feet. I’m left completely bare besides my hood. I feel him move around me, his eyes raking over my exposed form. I can’t see him but I can feel his heated stare. He pulls on my collar, forcing me to move. We come to a stop and the hood is removed from my face. I blink rapidly, desperately trying to readjust to the bright light of the room. Before I can process what’s happening, my hands are pulled up and out. My wrists are strapped and secured to a large X with my face flush against the wall.

“Wait,” I plead as my sight adjusts and I register that he’s securing me to a St. Andrew’s Cross.

The sharp snap of his palm hitting the flesh of my ass has me crying out. The pain radiates outward, my skin searing with sharpness.

“No, pet. There is no waiting.” He moves to shackle my ankles in place while he speaks. “Be my good girl and take your punishment for your master.”

His words send tingles of anticipation skittering across my skin. I have learned that I don’t just like the pain, I crave it. I’ve always been anxious. The type of person that’s in their own head. But the pain helps me feel free. I was a cutter as a teenager and opened my own wrists just to release some of the pain that built up inside. The pain on the outside lessened the pain on the inside. I’ve always needed a release, and at last I’ve found a way to get it without harming myself. And I have my very own demon to thank for that.

His footsteps recede as he walks across the room to the wall of toys. I can sense him perusing for the perfect tool to use on me. My pussy throbs at the thought. He’s been teasing me all day and now the promise of pain has me wound so tightly that I’m a panting, writhing mess. His footsteps indicate his movement back toward me and I can’t help the moan that escapes my throat.

“Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?” he teases while running something gently across the lips of my dripping cunt. It’s soft and buttery smooth like leather.

“Please, Master,” I beg as my hips thrust on their own accord.

“Were you a good girl who obediently listened to her master? Or were you a bad pet?”

He continues teasing me with what I suspect is a crop. He runs it back and forth through my dripping desire without giving me enough to ease the ache.

“I–I was a naughty pet,” I manage to choke out between breathy moans.

“And what do naughty girls get, Sweetness?”

He removes the leather riding crop from between my legs. I groan at the loss before a sharp sting lands harshly on my ass. The pain is immediate and intense but as the sharpness recedes, I’m left with blooming pleasure.

“I asked you a question,” he demands as he rubs the crop lightly over my pussy again.

“Bad girls get punished, Sir.”

“Yes they do. And you, my pet, have been a very bad fucking girl. Haven’t you?”