Chapter 11 #2
He moved behind me, dragging the metal chain across the floor. I could see him in the mirror, his painted face over my shoulder.
His eyes locked on mine.
The chain slipped from his hand, crashing to the floor. His palms found my hips, and roughly he dragged them upward, over my ribs, until they cupped my breasts.
His breath hit the side of my neck.
His lips brushed my ear when he whispered, “If you want something, you have to know if it’s truly what you want.”
He parted my legs with his knee and pressed me hard against him.
My body betrayed me, heat pooling low despite everything. I swallowed thickly, watching, waiting, unsure what he would do next.
“And what do I want?” I whispered. “Do you even know?”Another tear slid down my cheek.
He threw his head back with a laugh, then dropped his face to my neck and muttered mockingly, “You want L-O-V-E.”
He laughed again, amused.“You want to be adored. Cared for. Loved.”
His fingers clamped around my jaw and turned my face toward his.“I don’t do that. You’ll get nothing but misery and fucked stupid until you lose the last two brain cells you’ve got left.”
“Then let me go,” I said, breath hitching in my throat.
He slid his hand down and spanked my ass. Then he gripped my hip and dragged me closer.
“No,” he said. “Not until I get what I want.”
“And what is it that you want?” I asked, eyes locked with his.
He grabbed me by the braids and yanked my head back. His free hand slid down my stomach and under my skirt until his fingers found my clit.
“Let me show you,” he murmured.
His fingers pressed down, then pushed deep inside me until I gasped. His palm stayed on my clit, grinding in time with each thrust and drawing raw sounds from my throat. My eyes fluttered shut as I moaned, caught between shame and lust.
I didn’t want this. Not like this. But my body did.
He lifted the skirt off my ass and moved his hand back up from between my thighs. He slapped my clit once, stinging it, and then pulled his fingers free and brought them to my lips, sliding them into my mouth.
With one hand, he slid my thong aside.
I heard the low rasp of a zipper, and when I opened my eyes, I saw the leather pants slipping down to his knees. He gripped my hips, spread me open, and thrust into me with a force that knocked the breath from my chest.
I felt every inch of him entering, then something cold.
Metal.
It kissed deep inside me, brushing against nerves that lit up like sparks under skin. Another shift, and I felt it again, more than one. Rings pulling at me with each movement like magnets drawn to flesh. My breath hitched, a gasp escaping before it folded into a moan, my eyes flying open.
In the mirror, I caught the reflection of his grin.
His mouth brushed the tip of my ear as he whispered just before his pace grew rougher. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget what love even means, Doll.”
I moaned, each thrust making my body arch toward him, needing more despite every thought inside my brain was screaming ‘no’.
He lowered his head to my shoulder, inhaling my skin.
One hand gripped my breast, the other clutched my hip, anchoring me to him like he had every right.
“No,” I whispered, and he drove in harder.
“Yes,” I breathed, and he went faster, his smile spreading wider like he had just won a war I hadn’t realized I was losing.
“Look at you.”
One hand slid up to cup my jaw, forcing me to meet my own reflection in the mirror.
“Look how easily fuckable you are,” he chuckled. “I own you, Doll. And now, let me show you what it means to be mine.”
He spun me around, pulling out so fast the cold metal dragged against my skin, sharp enough to make me gasp. And then I was facing him.
He lifted one of my legs to his hip and pushed back inside, harder this time. My head fell back as he thrust deeper, my other leg trembling from the force, barely holding me upright.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
But he only laughed. He wasn’t just enjoying this; he was watching the way I did. Every breath, every sound I made, fueled his pace to go harder. And the worst part was... it was working. Every second of his touch made me crave more. His lesson, whatever it was, was sinking in.
His mouth found my chest, tongue circling my nipples while his hands gripped my ass, pulling me tighter against him. He thrust again and again, each movement more consuming.
I could feel the tightening inside me, the building clawing up my spine. And I could feel him too. Getting harder. For me.
He pulled away and dropped to his knees in front of me.
Lifting one of my legs onto his shoulder, he pressed his mouth against my wet pussy, and made his tongue move so slowly that it made my thighs tremble.
His hands gripped me in place, and the moment his mouth met my clit, and gently sucked, everything else blurred.
The way he touched, the way he moved, he knew what he was doing to me.
My whole body was having aftershocks.
My leg was lowered, but his fingers found their way inside my inner flesh, taking one final twitch from me that left me gasping. My whole body was shaking in front of him. And before I could moan again, he stood and reached behind me, pulling the chains and letting them hit the floor.
I barely had time to react before my knees hit the ground, heavy links weighing down my arms. I tried to rise, instinctively resisting, but his hand pressed the top of my head, guiding me lower.
“Open your mouth,” he said, coming closer.
I did.
He moved closer, thrusting his cock inside my mouth, going in slowly until it reached the edge of my throat. I gagged once, a tear sliding down my cheek before he grabbed my braids and pulled, just enough to keep control, never letting me forget who held the power.
“Breathe,” he growled. Then came the sharp sting of his palm on my cheek.
“Good, little doll,” he said, smirking. “Taking every inch.”
Metal from piercings tapped against my teeth, and his grip on me tightened.
His head fell back as a deep, guttural sound escaped him.
I could feel the shift in him, the way his breathing changed, how his body trembled.
He thrust once more, just enough to make him pulsate inside my mouth, coming, moaning as I struggled to catch my breath.
When he finished, he pulled away and pressed my jaw shut. “Swallow,” he ordered.
I did.
A tear slipped free, tracing down my cheek. But he didn’t care. He ran his cock across my lips, showing how he owned me.
“That’s it,” he murmured with a satisfied smile. Then he stepped back, moving toward the wall. A loud click followed, and harsh white light filled the room.
“Another one in line,” he said.
I blinked against the harsh light, my eyes struggling to adjust.
Then I saw dolls. Everywhere.
A scream tore from my throat as the stench of rot finally made sense. My chest heaved, breath coming in broken gasps, and my trembling hands flew to cover my mouth.
They weren’t dolls.
They were people.
Human dolls.
Their lips sewn shut, their bodies dressed and arranged neatly on wide wooden shelves. Their glassy eyes stared at nothing, faces frozen in silence.
He laughed behind me.
“They were bad, bad dolls,” he said, smiling as if he were proud of his collection. “Be a good one, and you might live to tell the tale.”
“No!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “No!”
My vision blurred.
The room spun around me, the smell, the light, the faces all blending into one nightmare blur. My legs gave out, and somewhere between my scream and the silence that followed, the world went dark.