Chapter 13 Perverse #2
My tail twitches with foreboding, drawing her gaze. She gives me a dark, unhinged grin and grabs it hard. I hiss, and Jaga flicks her knife into the air, where it hovers, ready to use. She runs both hands over the smooth, hairless skin of my tail, and I almost come on the spot.
“Mmm.” I try to tell her how fucking good it feels, since my tail is very sensitive. She’s never played with it before.
Jaga tsks, then grips my tail more firmly and twists it, trying to tie it into a knot. My thighs spasm with equal parts pain and pleasure, and I almost lose my footing, my hoof sliding on the wooden support.
The more she twists and bends my flesh, the more pain floods in. I mumble through my lips, trying to let her know there are bones inside, and she won’t be able to shape it how she wants without breaking them.
Jaga seems to figure it out on her own. She closes her green eye, and the violet one glazes over as she gives my tail a penetrating look. With a fierce, fast motion, she breaks it in half.
I howl into my lips, hot jets of cum shooting out of my cock. Another snap, another, another. I don’t have time to recover from my torturous orgasm before Jaga presents me with a lopsided, uneven bow she turned my poor tail into.
“Still not enough, and I hate that you enjoyed it, you sick, perverse devil.”
Oh, yes, my depravity knows no end. I am, however, surprised. In all my years, I’ve never come in a situation when I was completely at another’s mercy, and I never expected my tail being broken would get me there.
My torturer steps away, regarding me with a dark frown. I breathe hard through my nose, the scent of blood making me salivate. If only it were hers. When our eyes meet, I stretch my lips in a smile despite the pain it causes.
“You’re frustrating.” Her voice is cool, her eyes hard as they bore into mine. “How do I make you suffer, Woland? How do I give you pain that’s nothing but agony? How do I make you helpless and terrified, hm? The way I was when you hurt me, over and over. How do I make you hurt like that?”
I take a deep breath through my nose and close my eyes. She’s made me suffer in ways I never knew were possible. Her very absence was the purest agony I’ve ever felt. Now, her indifference and hate—she no longer loves me, fuck, fuck, fuck, please—are another kind of torture I can barely withstand.
It’s laughable that Jaga thinks I need more pain. I’ve been well past my limit for months.
“I guess I can’t,” she muses, her mouth gaining a sad, downward tilt. “To hurt like I did, you must have a proper heart. Hm. Let’s see it.”
She flicks her fingers. My ribs tear apart with deafening snaps, ripping through the muscles and skin of my chest. When I look down, screaming into my sewn lips, I see them, bloodied, jagged bones fanning away in a rough circle right over my heart. It looks like a flower, depraved and gory.
In the middle of it, my exposed heart throbs frantically, red and strong, pumping my lifeblood with panicked pulsing. It squirts from a ripped artery until Jaga tsks and heals it.
Only it. I won’t bleed out, but my heart is out in the open, right at her mercy.
I grind my teeth, swallowing roars of pain and rage.
True fear settles in the pit of my stomach.
Can she crush my heart and forbid my body to heal?
I won’t be dead, but I won’t live. Everything will be lost, but worst of all…
I won’t be able to stop her when she leaves.
“So you do have one,” she says, leaning in until her hot, excited breath fans over my vulnerable muscle. “Bigger than human, too. I expected it to be a sad, shriveled thing. My, Woland, you surprise me.”
She pulls back and cocks her head to the side, extending her arm with slow, mesmerized deliberation. I hold my breath, willing my heart to stop, to freeze, to disappear. It does not. Jaga’s finger reaches the blooming wreckage of my chest, and she slides the pad of it down my heart.
I scream as my guts seize up with horrible nausea. Such a travesty was never meant to happen, whether to a god, bies, or mortal. The scrape of her skin over me is raw in the most torturous way. It feels like she’s dragging sharp claws down my very soul.
I wish for death.
“Oh, it does feel,” she whispers, fascinated. “You know, some days I just wished to… See? Like this.”
She wraps her fingers around my heart like it’s a cock, and my eyes roll back in my head.
I convulse, this touch violating in ways I didn’t imagine possible, even as the devil.
The roar that surges out of my mouth is stronger than the threads tying it shut.
My lips open, tearing on the threads, and blood winds down my chin and neck as I scream.
Jaga squeezes harder. I almost pass out.
“There.”
She takes a step back, her rapist hand pulling out of my gaping chest. I choke on my blood, on my breaths, on pain and euphoria. Shivers wrack my body. I don’t want to see any more of my misery, but I force my eyes to open. Just in time to see Jaga lick the last of my blood off her fingers.
“It feels like enough.”
Her eyes are deep and dark as she watches me. I don’t try to speak. Something within me is broken. Something’s lost.
“I’ll leave you here to contemplate,” she whispers, walking backward.
I stir at that. I think I should beg her. The idea of hanging here, in these ropes I cannot break, exposed for anyone to violate me just like she did, is a torture in and of itself.
But Jaga’s gone before I muster the right words.