Chapter 60 #3
“Spread your legs,” he commands, slapping my ass when I don’t comply fast enough.
Pushing my knees apart, I lift my pussy in the air for him.
He begins to finger me, and I bite my lip, refusing to let him know I’m enjoying it.
“I’m your husband, Eve. Your Lord. You vowed to be mine. That means I own you. Every part of you. Do you understand that?”
I sniff and tears fall from my eyes onto the carpet.
He removes his fingers and slaps my pussy, making it sting, and a moan escapes my lips. “Answer me,” he orders, doing it again.
“Y-es.” I gasp.
“Yes what?” Another slap.
I cry out and my body trembles. “You’re my Lord. I belong to you.”
“Good girl.” His fingers return to my soaked pussy, and this time I rock back and forth, hoping he fucks me. I’d rather him choke me out than finish the conversation we were having. Being someone’s useless whore is all I’m good for. This is what I know.
He removes his fingers, and I slump, trying to catch my breath, but stiffen when I feel something cold pressing up against my lips. “Relax, angel,” he growls, and I know what’s coming.
I moan when he begins to push the toy into me. “That’s it.” His free hand rubs on my clit in a slow and taunting way. I begin to pant, wanting more.
My pussy fills with the toy, and I break out in goose bumps.
He grabs my hips and rolls me onto my back, crushing my cuffed arms underneath me.
Kashton straddles me, and I see he has a Sharpie in his hands. Biting off the lid, he spits it out and starts to write on my chest.
My wide eyes go to his. “Kash?” I begin to panic. “Please…don’t.” It’s my hallucination all over again.
“You’ve left me no choice, Eve,” he says flatly.
I try to sit up, but his left hand grips my throat and he shoves me down, pinning me to the floor while his right hand continues to write on me. “Please…” I choke out.
“You’re going to learn the hard way” is his only response to my desperation.
He drops the Sharpie, grips my upper arms, and pulls me to my feet. Moving his hand to my hair, he drags me over to a mirror, and I trip over my own feet to stop him.
It doesn’t work. Instead, I shut my eyes as he forces me to my knees in front of it. “Look at yourself,” he commands.
I bow my head, letting my hair shield my face and the tears that run down it. I’m trembling at the thought of what he wrote on my body. It’ll last for days. Weeks, even. It’ll be a constant reminder of how worthless I am.
Seconds later, his hands are in my hair once more, yanking my head up, and I squeeze my eyes shut. He wraps something around my neck and fastens it in place, pulling pieces of my hair. Then it starts to tighten.
My eyes spring open and meet his in the mirror to see him standing behind me. I can’t breathe. The collar around my neck is so tight that it’s taking away my air.
I try to tell him, but nothing comes out of my mouth. Instead, I’m gasping for breath.
He moves to stand in front of me. Crouching down, he runs his tatted knuckles through my tears.
“It’s an inflatable posture collar.” He informs me.
“The more I inflate it, the more it cuts off your air.” He holds up a black pump in his hand, and his tatted fingers wrap around the bulb, squeezing it once more.
My wide eyes remain on his and my face throbs from the lack of oxygen while my pussy clenches on the toy it’s filled with.
He opens the valve, and the collar deflates. I gasp in a burning breath before choking. He waits patiently for me to get myself under control.
“You’re beautiful, Eve.” He tells me, and I blink away the tears that fill my eyes. “You don’t need to be ashamed of who you are.”
I try to adjust myself, but I’m on the floor with my knees tucked underneath me, my arms cuffed behind my back, and a posture collar on that has the potential to choke me. He has total control of me, and I’m dripping wet for him.
His eyes search mine. “I love you and I’m going to keep reminding you of that until you believe it.”
“I…do,” I whisper hoarsely.
He tilts his head to the side. “I don’t think you do. They brainwashed you, Eve.”
I try to shake my head in denial, but the strict collar prevents it.
“I could see a hundred videos of you, and it wouldn’t matter. The only things that matter now are…you’re my Lady…my whore…my toy.” His fingers drop to my breast and I lean into him. “I’m the only man who will touch you, play with you, and fuck you.”
“I know,” I assure him through the knot in my throat.
I’m so confused. Who I was and who he thinks I can be. I’ll still be a useless whore. His useless Lady. He knows I want to run and hide from him, but he won’t let me. Not this time.
“We’ve been here before, angel,” he says, reading my mind. “You and me in a room on a yacht. I let you get away, but I told you that would never happen again. You can’t escape me. Not even in your mind.” He stands and I look up at him through my watery lashes. “This will be your first lesson.”
He holds up the black bulb that has a small tube running to my collar. Kashton squeezes it twice, and it restricts my air but doesn’t cut it off completely.
Then the toy he placed inside my pussy starts to vibrate. If I could moan, I would, but I can’t do anything.
“Look at yourself, Eve,” he demands.
My heavy eyes fall to the mirror in front of me and I see my reflection.
I vow.
You vow.
We vow.
It’s written down my body in large black letters. “We took vows, angel. Vows that cannot and will not be broken.”
I take a long breath, filling my lungs, then slowly release it. The vibration between my legs gets more intense, and my hips buck forward on their own. My body breaks out in a sweat, and I wish I could beg him to let me come.
He sits down behind me on the bed, his knees on either side of my shaking body.
His tatted fingers gently touch the side of my face, pulling my hair to lay down my back.
“Gorgeous.” They fall to my breasts, and they play with my hardened nipples.
“You’re going to prove to me that you believe me.
” His eyes are as cold as ice as they hold mine.
He’s going to retrain me. My husband knows that my memories are coming back. I shared too much. So he’s going to wipe them clean, and if I could speak, I’d thank him. I’d much rather be his whore than remember who I once was.
“Now”—he lets go and picks up a remote—“let’s get started.”