Page 5

Saul

It was best for me to stay out of the bedroom until she fell asleep. I stoked the fire and watched the sparks as I poked at it with more vigour than was required. Her back, chest, arms, and ass were littered with white and pink scarring. Cuts were running along the insides of her thighs, but the rest of her legs were free from cuts. Her hair reminded me of sunshine, but her skin needed more sunlight.

I sat in my chair, picked up my beer, and watched the flames flicker. I knew mental anguish was far worse than physical pain at times. I’d enjoyed tending to her more than I’d anticipated. Part of me wanted to watch her transform into a beautiful butterfly, but my inner beast wanted to clip her wings before she attempted to flutter away. This was where the difficulty with my demon lay. I took a long swig from the bottle.

The next few days, I needed to get her into a structured routine, be present for her, and keep talking to her. Once she was acclimatised, I would begin to apply more pressure.

**

Was I the asshole for doing this? Yes, but I’d given her time to adjust and remained patient throughout.

I blasted the gas air horn above Jane’s head while leaning over the bottom of my bed. She jerked upright, gasping for air. She looked around wildly as I snatched the can back. Her hand was on her chest, and her teddy was clutched against her side.

“Morning, sugar,”

I said with a smile.

“It’s time to get up.”

Her lips tightened, and her eyes narrowed when she gave me her first glimpse of emotion.

“Y-Y-Yooou—”

she stuttered out before slapping a hand over her mouth. Her voice sounded raw, no doubt from the months of silence.

“So you can speak,”

I drawled, not making a big deal about such a momentous breakthrough. I got off the bed to stand beside her.

“Make your bed, get washed up, and put on the clothes that I left for you. They are on my bed.”

Her indignant eyes were still on me when I reached the door.

“You have thirty minutes,”

I said, pointing towards the clock before smiling and walking into the hallway.

When breakfast was cooked, Jane nervously came through the kitchen door. Her hands were hidden beneath the grey hoody, and she wouldn't look up at me.

“Go sit in the dining room, and I will bring breakfast over,”

I said as I focused on fixing our plate.

When I glanced back, she was gone. She was certainly moving faster. I put everything on a tray and walked towards the dining room. She sat on her large pillow. Her hair was tucked beneath the hoody, as she hadn't pulled it out from putting it on. As I sat down, she raised her eyes, and I could see the confusion in them.

“Do you want to sit on the chair?”

I asked curiously.

Her hands were still hidden under her sleeves, but she placed them on her knees. She looked downwards, and after a few seconds, she shook her head. I stroked the top of her golden hair.

“You're such a good girl, sugar,”

I murmured, hoping to encourage her to continue to come out of her shell.

I began to cut and load pieces of the full English breakfast onto a fork for her. There was no garlic bread, but hopefully, she would finish a decent amount before her walk outside. Her initial gaunt look indicated starvation, but the pale skin suggested she had been held captive somewhere with little to no sunlight.

“Open up, sugar. We are going outside for a little while,”

I said as I moved the fork towards her.

Her eyes shot up again, and I stared into her solemn pale blue eyes. They looked so innocent. I wondered why she looked at me, but this was part of her routine as I explained everything to her.

“I’m here to protect you. Nothing can get inside my house or property,”

I said, trying to reassure her while peering into her eyes, looking for any changes.

She opened her mouth, but her eyes glazed over as she retreated into her shell. A stab of impatience pricked at me as I narrowed my eyes on her lips as her mouth closed around it.

Patience.

**

I held her hand as we walked through the garden. We had been outside for nearly an hour, but she had stumbled a few times. She could be clumsy naturally, but if she had been kept captive in small quarters, her daily walks would improve her motor skills until I could get her into my gym. Strengthening her muscles would increase her mental strength. The endorphins released in her body would help combat some of her mental demons and improve her physical well-being. It certainly helped mine.

“You can come out here anytime you want,”

I said as we began to walk towards the house.

Once we went inside, I took her to the gym and sat her on the bench press before I stripped down my shorts. When I glanced at her, she quickly looked away from me. I kept my eyes on her in the mirror and from my peripheral vision as I worked out on the various machines. She never moved from the bench I sat her on.

I took her into the bathroom with me when I went in for a shower, leaving her sitting on the toilet lid.

Once I finished in the shower, I wrapped a towel around me before I came out of the shower.

While I dried my hair, I stared at her scars.

Some were pink, and some were white. There were older ones merged with new ones. She was too young to be in the state she was in now. Her brain was in lockdown, and it was time to break in.

“Sit,”

I said, snapping the word out in an icy tone.

She jumped off the toilet and knelt on the floor.

Her pose was rigid but perfect.

Her back was straight, her breasts pushed up, her legs spread, and her hands on her knees. My eyes narrowed on the slight tremor in her hands. I walked toward her, stopping in front of her.

Her blue eyes were vacant again.

I took a deep breath before removing my towel, knowing what needed to happen to take her mind into the past.

She glanced up at me and locked her hands behind her back before she opened her mouth.

I knew I had to unleash my monster to discover the ones she hid.

I rubbed my hard shaft before placing it on her tongue.

No sooner had I done it than she jerked forward and began to swallow me down.

She practically choked on cock, but she didn't stop.

I gathered her hair up and held it in one hand to watch as she pushed herself on my dick. My eyes closed when I felt the head of my cock slip past the tight opening of her throat.

“That’s right, slave. You're going to fuck yourself on my cock,”

I said, tightening my grip on her hair before I thrust down her neck.

My heart raced as she took me, widening her jaw for me. She glanced up at me and recognised the heat in her eyes. They weren't vacant anymore.

“Is this what you need, sugar?”

I asked, pulling back until she gasped for air, but it was the desperate need in her eyes that made me curse. “Fuck.”

I pushed my cock back into her mouth, holding her head in place to drive into her, only this time there was no preamble. She spluttered as I groaned at the sensation of her throat constricting around me. Her saliva coated my dick as I fucked her mouth.

When I looked into her eyes, I saw them watering, but behind the rapid blinking, something else was happening. There was a faint recognition of what was happening. I thought of the abject cruelty of her scars and knew I had to up the ante.

“Remember, this is what you are. My whore,”

I said, coldly pulling back and driving back into her.

“I own you.”

Within another four thrusts, she had taken all of me, and I resumed a steady pace.

I wanted to praise her, but this wouldn't help her snap out of her trance.

Her saliva dangled off my balls and her chin.

I pulled out of her to rub myself all over her face and tongue, soaking her.

“What do you want, whore?” I asked.

When she tried to put my dick back into her mouth, I grabbed it out of her reach.

“No, use your words, slave. What do you want?”

I snapped at her.

“M-master,”

she whispered but looked away from me, and I almost softened at the word.

I turned away, pulling her by her hair until she crawled behind me, leading her into the bedroom.

“What do you want, whore?”

I growled the words as we reached my bed.

When I turned to face her, she grabbed my cock with both hands and began to swallow me down, sucking, licking and swirling her tongue around the head before pushing it down her throat, choking herself on it as if her life depended on it.

I moaned as she worked her magic on wanking me and rubbing my balls simultaneously while her lips worked my length.

I picked her up and tossed her on the bed, placing her flat on the bed before lifting her T-shirt.

The scars didn't bother me because they were her war scars of survival.

She moved on the bed to get her head to the edge of the bed while I squeezed her breasts, curling my fingers around them until I reached her nipples.

When she lifted her hands to reach for my dick, I slapped them away before clamping my fingers around her taut pink nipples.

I kept my eye on her face when I pinched them as hard as possible.

Her lips parted in pain, but no sound left her mouth.

There was only pleasure that remained.

It had to be a trained response.

“Please, Master,”

she whispered before she lifted her head and started to lick my balls.

“What do you want, whore?”

I said, releasing the pressure on her nipples before reapplying it.

“To taste your cum, Master,”

she moaned, but her eyes were closed.

I slipped my hand beneath her waistband and underwear, winding my fingers to her pussy. She was so wet that the cotton stuck to her pussy. I began to circle my fingers around her clit, slipping my finger through her wet folds.

“What is your name, whore? Give me your name, or I'll stop,”

I commanded but slipped my finger into her pussy.

Her eyes snapped open, and tears began to coarse down her cheeks. Whispered words tumbled from her mouth, but none made sense. I listened carefully, but when the incoherent words continued, I pulled my finger out and pinched her clit.

“Be good. He won't—no. Master, no. I’ll be good. Don't kill—”

She began to shake uncontrollably, and there was only one emotion in her blue eyes before a series of rapid blinking and twitching took over.

Terror.