Chapter 22
Kitlyn
God, this man was embarrassing the hell out of me. Even though he fucked me, sodomized me, and licked every single hole in my nether region, I still didn’t want to submit to his touch for many reasons, one being that I enjoyed what he did to me.
He was skilled at bending my body’s will to conform to his own. I have never had an orgasm that intense with anyone else, and I enjoyed it. I am embarrassed to even admit it to myself because I am not supposed to enjoy the perverted things my kidnapper does to me.
He knows exactly what he is doing, and he plays my sex like a fiddle. I would rather die than admit it to him.
It’s incredibly fucked up, but I couldn’t live in denial anymore. I am in a constant battle in my head, and it’s driving me nuts. I need a way out to keep my sanity intact. The threat of him killing me isn't on the table anymore.
I am ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive he will not take my life. It's his moods that worry me. One minute, he was loving and gentle, and the next, he had me over his knee, spanking the shit out of me.
I was always on eggshells wondering what his next move would be.
Will he inflict only pain, or both pleasure and pain?
He told me I controlled whether I would be rewarded or punished.
Of course, he is right. If I behave, I am rewarded with earth-shattering orgasms and special treats.
If I am bad, I get an ass-whooping without the pussy pleaser.
I am his little fucktoy. I mean, it isn't like we go out on dates and have actual stimulating conversations. He uses me for my body, then cuddles and coddles me on his terms. It is maddening. My body’s submission to the slightest touch from him, and the fact that he is a killer, doesn’t bode too well with me, not to mention the lack of freedom I have.
No one wants to be held hostage and controlled all the time. I hate being unable to get in my car and go out for a ride or being able to sit on my porch and enjoy nature.
I don't have that here. He monitors my every move unless I use the bathroom. Thank God, because I could never shit again! How embarrassing would it be to have him watch me while taking a crap? No thanks.
I held my tongue and kept myself in check because I didn’t want him to take Tuna. What little dignity I had left was slowly being stripped away. I am pissed at myself for being so weak, which makes me want to scream at him even more.
I will fight him off as much as possible without pushing him over the edge. Being pleasured by him at the same the strap came across my ass was enjoyable. I don’t want to be spanked any other way.
That shit hurts like hell without him bringing me to orgasm simultaneously. I would feel nothing but agony from whatever weapon he chose, and that doesn’t sit well with me. I certainly didn’t get off when he spanked me the first night he brought me here.
There was nothing pleasant about that evening.
I know how much he enjoys embarrassing me, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of humiliating me with his fingers now.
When he pulled out of my sex, I felt frustrated.
His love bites turned me on, even though they were on the brutal side.
He didn’t make me bleed, but I knew there would be some severe bruising along my neck and shoulders.
I swear he’s part animal.