Bonus Chapter
W e walk through Oblivion. Well, Conrad does the walking, I’m being carried. Like a princess, like an angel of death.
I’m there, in his arms, dressed up exactly the way he likes.
This place has become our home now.
It feels right, it feels normal. There’s an old suite of rooms that his family used to inhabit years ago and Conrad had them all fitted out, all decorated to my liking and all wheelchair friendly too.
He’s done the same with every floor, every part of this building. He’s installed new lifts, ramps, everything to ensure I can go wherever my heart takes me.
He said it was my wedding gift, a belated one, granted.
There’s still the matter of getting our marriage sanctified, but neither of us have spoken about that. It’s better not to. Not with everything going off between Devin and his brothers.
“We have new stock arriving tomorrow,” Conrad murmurs into my ear. “I wondered if you’d like to take a new slave to practise on,”
My heart picks up at that. I should say yes, it’s what he likes. He likes to see me hurt them, to watch me whip them, and cut them, and electrocute them too.
It doesn’t do much for me, at least, not much for my head anyway, but my body seems to like it, my body always responds.
And the way Conrad fucks me afterwards, I like that too.
Like. Like. Like.
I nod back, resting my head against his shoulder. It’s like we’re attuned now, like he understands everything that I need, without me having to ask. Not that I can.
As we make our way through to the private cells, the two guards nod to Conrad as they open up the great armoured doors for us.
You aren’t allowed beyond this point without his permission. Most Lords never pass through these doors. Only those who can afford the very best, or a very particular kind of play are permitted down here.
Conrad told me that this was where they held Paitlyn. I don’t know much about her, I don’t think I want to know. I know he has her tucked away somewhere, that he and Magnus are hunting Devin but what I don’t understand is why they don’t just hand her over and be done with it.
I guess that’s not my concern anyway. I’m here to look pretty, to serve my husband, to reward him.
But right now, it feels like he’s the one rewarding me.
He shifts my weight, freeing up his hand to put in the code to the lock.
The door opens silently, and we step inside as the bright lights flash on.
In the corner, the figure huddles up, covering their face and I can’t help but laugh. It comes out like a rattle. A death rattle.
A rattle snake.
Maybe I’ll turn around and bite…I shake my head, trying to focus my thoughts.
Conrad places me down in the ornate throne like chair. He then walks over and yanks the bitch up, hanging her chains off the hooks so she’s spreadeagled on the rack.
I can’t help but watch him, watch the way his muscles flex, the way his body moves, the way that ink hints at the monster just beneath the surface.
He is a monster.
But he is my monster now. All mine.
He turns, catching my gaze and my cheeks heat.
“A little or a lot?” He asks, in the deep, dominating voice.
I settle my eyes on the cowering figure and my hate rises. “A lot,” I declare.
She cries out but Conrad backhands her before raising up the handle and those big rollers start churning.
I can hear her body stretch; I can hear her body tense. Every time we dislocate her limbs, we put them back and then let her heal enough so we can do it again.
“Fuck,” Conrad murmurs stepping back, moving to stand behind me.
I look up at him and smile, like a full-on sunbeam.
We’ve been doing this for weeks now. Coming here, slowly torturing Giselle more and more. Conrad told her that he wanted me to witness her death, but I don’t think she’s quite ready for it yet.
He picks me up, sits down, and then lays me across him so that I’m sitting on his lap.
One of his hands comes to rest on my swollen belly and as my aunt glares at her, I know she sees it, she sees what I have, what I am.
That I’m giving Conrad a child. An heir.
That I’m living the life she so desperately wanted, she so desperately schemed for.
I meet her nasty gaze and my lips curl more. I beat you, bitch. I fucking beat you.
Conrad plants a kiss on my cheek. I shut my eyes, welcoming his caresses.
Is he going to fuck me here, fuck me in front of her? God, I hope so.
His hand slides around my hip, I use my hand to shift myself and I can feel it, his cock so hard, pressing into my back.
I let out a moan, a sound of wanting, of needing.
“You feeling needy, wife?” He asks, like he doesn’t know the answer to that.
Of course I’m needy. He made me needy. He made me into this.
His fingers brush over my pussy. He dressed me in tights and suspenders, with a cut out bra that shows my breasts off to perfection. It makes me feel sexy, it makes me feel like the perfect little fuckdoll.
“So wet,” He whispers into my ear.
I turn my face, lifting my hand to cup his cheek and I give him a long, deep kiss. I can’t use my tongue, obviously, but his tongue is enough for both of us, it slides into my mouth, caressing me while his fingers start thrusting away inside me.
But I need more. I want more.
I clench my fists, curling them up into tight little balls as my body demands he gives me what I deserve, what he knows I should have.
“Demanding little bitch,” He tuts.
Yeah, that’s right. I am demanding. I am very demanding.
He lifts me up, spreads my legs wider and then pushes his cock in to replace where his fingers were.
I know she can see it. I know she can see all of this. She can see how my body takes him, how he slides in and out, fucking me so deliciously I’m barely able to think.
I’m so wet I’m dripping over us both.
Conrad brings his fingers back, pinching, squeezing, abusing my clit so damn well.
And all the while I’m staring at Giselle, because I got this. I have this. Conrad loves me. He wants me. He’s fucking me right now.
“You’re so beautiful,” he growls. “So fucking perfect.”
It’s like a demon possesses me, like some evil spirit hell bent on revenge takes over. I want her to realise that I have won. That after so many years of enduring their hatred, now I have someone who worships me, who loves me.
It maybe a fucked-up way of showing it, but Conrad will do anything for me.
And after so long of just fighting by myself, barely surviving, it’s an incredible feeling to realise, I’m no longer alone.
I lift my arm, wrapping it around my husbands neck.
“I love you,” I murmur those words into his ear. I know he can’t understand the noise I make, but he knows what I mean, what the intention behind it.
What we have is not a normal love.
What we have defies normality. This man has ruined me, and then somehow, he’s managed to rebuild me from the broken parts he created.
His lips crash into mine. He starts fucking me harder, like his need now has overtaken mine. I can hear how our skin is slapping against one another. How much pussy is squelching with every brutal thrust.
I turn my head, tilting my chin and star down at my aunt. I want her to see this, I want her to see all of this, to see what I’ve become and what my life will be from now on.
She and my grandfather made my childhood a living hell. They bullied and abused me and treated me like shit. I want them to know that my time has come. That my suffering is over. That I’m the winner here.
I want her to see it all, to see how much my husband loves me, how much he worships me, how much he wants me . I bet no one in her entire life has made them ever feel like that.
That’s probably why she’s so bitter and twisted and angry.
Well, fuck her. I’ve won. I’ve beaten her, even though all the odds were stacked against me.
Conrad’s hand twists to cradle my belly and I smile the biggest grin. I’m having a baby, our baby. I may not have wanted to be a mother, but I know I’ll make a damned better parent to this child than my parents ever were, than my grandfather ever was.
I’ll cherish this baby, love this baby, and it’ll grow up safe and happy.
And we’ll have more. We’ll have so many babies. I’ll give Conrad whatever he wants now because he has done the same for me.
As another wave of pleasure soars through my body, Conrad passes over a gun and puts it into my hand. I can barely hold it, can barely focus on anything other than the euphoria of what he’s doing to my body.
“Do it.” He murmurs, into my ear.
My finger fumbles around the trigger.
I can’t take the weight enough to aim it properly, so my husband does the hard work, pointing it exactly where he wants it to go.
And as his eyes connect with mine, I pull the trigger.
My Aunt screams, she jerks against the chains that hold her. I can see the blood pouring out of a wound in her shoulder. I can see her pitiful tears streaming down.
How she used to mock me for crying. How she used to torment me.
Now, she will spend her days here, in the dark, petrified of every sound, of every creak and every flicker of movement. We’re not going to kill her. No, we’re going to keep her alive, keep her here, until her body gives out from old age.
We’re going to keep torturing her, keep hurting her. Conrad will have the doctors remove every bullet we put in her rancid body and we’ll fix her up after every time we slice her open. She’s going to know nothing but pain and despair. Nothing but horror.
And that will be my justice. That will be my revenge.
I lean back, letting my husband’s arms take my weight and it’s that thought, that knowledge that sends me right over the edge.
I’ve won. I’ve finally fucking won.
And now I can be the perfect wife for Conrad. The wife he deserves.