Chapter Twenty-Six
Hadrian
I can’t tell where Saldar finishes and I start. Since I took Juliet, I’ve been living a double life, and while it hasn’t felt as much like playing a role as I expected it to, I’ve certainly felt like two different people. Now, it’s all me, and it feels so, so good.
It’s all me.
She’s all mine.
That chair will get uncomfortable quickly, but I’m not finished yet. She needs to understand I’m as ruthless as Saldar was. I’m glad she rebelled a little; it gave me the excuse I needed to put my foot down.
She can’t see what I’m doing from this angle, so I take my time looking through the options. I select a couple of items and head back to Juliet, who hasn’t moved, of course. She’s strapped down so securely only her eyes can move freely.
When I hold up the nipple clamps, she makes what sounds like a protest around the gag, and it makes me smile. She loves the pain she gets from spanking, even when it is severe, but she hates the clamps. A genuine punishment.
These aren’t especially harsh, so she can keep them on for a while, and I’ve added a special feature. A weighted bell dangles from each, and they jingle as I line the first one up with Juliet’s nipple.
I only have to play with it for a second until it hardens. Even though she’s obviously scared, this turns her on, too. It never fails to amaze me. She jerks as I clip on the clamp, and the bell goes crazy. I’m sure that sound is going to annoy the hell out of her by the time we’re done.
The second bell joins the first as I add the second clamp.
Her chest is heaving as she tries to adjust to them, and even that is enough to make the bells ring.
I give her a couple of minutes to get herself together, wipe away the single tear from the corner of her eye, and press a rubber ball into her right hand.
“Squeeze it,” I instruct, and she does, brows creased. It lets out a squeak, and she jumps, setting the bells off again. The frustrated huff she manages through the gag tells me she’s already getting pissed off with them. Good.
“Squeeze this if you're in genuine distress. By that, I mean, you’re struggling to breathe. If you use it for any other reason, you get an extra thirty minutes on the chair. Squeeze once if you understand.”
She hesitates, probably checking my words for a trap, then gives the ball a single squeak.
Then, I press a button and reveal the chair’s final surprise. She manages a strangled cry around the gag, and the bells go crazy again as the bottom section, which holds the dildos, starts to vibrate. It goes for five seconds, then stops, and she stares at me, eyes wide.
“It’ll do that every thirty seconds. If you count, you’ll be able to track it.”
Not enough to make her orgasm, but enough to tease her and have her very ready by the time I start to play.
She won’t be able to resist counting down. I watch her face and catch the moment she tenses in anticipation of the vibrations. Yep, there it is. She’s ready for it, and this time, the bells barely make a sound.
“Relax, doll. You’ll be there for a while.”
As Saldar, I always left during punishments, but I have no intention of doing that this time. Instead, I pick up the sketch pad I gave her. I’ve been dying to look through it, but showing that sort of interest as Saldar would have damaged the illusion. Now I can assuage my curiosity.
I glance up to see Juliet’s gaze is locked on me. She was always secretive about her projects, never wanting anyone to look at them until everything was well underway. I lift the sketch pad. “I’m just going to look at this to pass the time. Don’t mind me.”
Her face contorts, and her eyes flicker closed as the vibrations hit again.
I turn my attention to the paper. It takes me turning a few pages before I fully understand what I’m seeing.
The first few pages hold sketches of characters, starting as rough scratches but working up to intricate, detailed designs.
I remember Juliet showing me Saldar for the first time, once she had him just how she wanted him. He drew attention straight away, all shadow and sharp angles with a few hints of color mixed in. These new creations couldn’t be more different.
Color fills the page. The characters are more stylized and anime-like than Saldar’s hyper-realistic form. All women, brightly rendered, with expressions ranging from determined to joyful. I smile when I see one holding the leash of a giant spider, walking it like a dog.
It’s a new game.
Seeing Juliet’s creativity burning so bright, even in the miserable prison I created for her, does something to my heart. She can make the game. She’ll have access to all the resources she’d need—I’ll see to that—and the Brotherhood can even release it, if she wants.
It’s so hard to fight the urge to tell her.
To free her from the chair right now and rush her to my lab, where she can start work on her new creation.
It would be a disaster if I did. At the moment, I need to prioritize strength over leniency.
In my imagination, she’s smiling and happy, but in reality, she’d be searching for a knife to stab me with.
To distract myself, I keep turning the pages, finding sketches of locations next. Futuristic settings that look utopian rather than dystopian. Fun escapism, not the dark and gritty content her games usually lean toward.
She’s dreaming of a better place than the one I’ve trapped her in.
I check my watch. Twenty-five minutes have passed, which means Juliet’s poor nipples need some attention. She blinks at me as I approach, but she hasn’t used the squeaky ball yet. She’s doing okay.
When I unclip the clamps, she jerks, moaning through the gag. Her nipples are rock solid and an angry red. I touch one with the tip of my finger just as the vibrations hit, and this time, her eyes roll back. Interesting.
I drop my head and tease the sore peak with my tongue while I slide my hand down to Juliet’s clit.
I circle it as I work on her nipples with my tongue, and the reaction is instant.
She jerks at first, then her breathing picks up.
The vibrations, or maybe the punishment as a whole, has my girl all worked up.
I don’t touch her where she needs it, just drag my finger round and round the spot until she lets out a whine. I had her well trained to beg for pleasure as Saldar. Will she do the same for me now that I’m myself?
I keep up the maddening motion as I switch my mouth to her other nipple. She’s shifting in her seat now, the little that she can, and when the vibrations hit, she whines again. I lift my head to look in her eyes. They’re wide and glassy. Fuck, I love that expression.
“Do you want to come?” I ask, watching her closely. She can’t answer, but she gives a series of tiny nods. I drag my finger over her clit, and her eyes flutter.
“The next time I let you orgasm, my cock will be buried deep in your ass. You’re going to need to ask me very nicely to fuck you there if you want that to happen. Are you ready to do that?”
Her eyes widen. Is it strange for her, hearing those words from my lips?
I’d worried this would feel unnatural without Saldar to hide behind, but so far, it doesn’t.
The more time I spend with Juliet as myself, the more natural this feels.
I keep having to remind myself she’s a long way behind me. She only just found out who I am.
I don’t get a nod. She’s stubborn, but I expected that, and I’ve got plenty of time to convince her. I glance at my watch. “You’ve got another twenty-five minutes in the chair to think about it. If you manage to orgasm, you won’t be in trouble.”
Her brows dip in confusion, but I don’t explain my statement.
I reattach the nipple clamps, ignoring her frantic squeaks of protest. The tinkling of the bells as she twitches makes me smile.
She’s pissed as all hell, and I love it.
Just one more surprise to go. I pull out the third clamp, designed with padding for pleasure rather than pain, and attach it to her clit.
This time, I get a drawn-out moan in response as the clip comes to life, vibrating in time with the chair.
Just five seconds. Not enough to get her off, but enough to drive her mad.
It’s a beautiful sound, and my cock presses against my jeans as I settle back onto the altar with Juliet’s sketch pad.
For the next twenty-five minutes, I force myself to keep my eyes on her drawings, ignoring the jingling bells and the increasingly desperate noises from Juliet’s direction. She doesn’t use the squeaky ball. I’m glad she understands being horny doesn’t count as an emergency.
I’m soaking it in, though, committing every little noise to memory.
I could do this for a long time without getting bored.
I could do it forever. Will it be enough to crack her stubborn attitude and make her beg?
God, I hope so. I’ve taken her ass multiple times as Saldar, but it’s just not the same as doing it as myself. As her knowing it’s me.
By the time Juliet’s punishment is over, I’m buzzing with energy, as impatient as I’m sure she is. I don’t let myself look eager, though. That wouldn’t give the correct impression. I walk over to her slowly and stand in front of her, just observing until the vibrations hit.
Her eyes screw shut, and the hand not holding the squeaky ball curls into a fist. She looks like she’s concentrating very, very hard. When they stop, she lets out a pained whimper. I raise a brow. “Didn’t manage to get over the edge, I take it?”
She glares at me in response. Still fiery. But how much fight does she really have left? I unclip the head harness and slide the rubber cock out of her throat. She works her jaw in relief, and I offer her water before she tries to speak.
She drinks it greedily, some splashing onto her breasts in a way that sends my mind spinning down a new path. If she won’t beg for my cock in her ass, I’ll come all over her and leave her to get cleaned up by herself, still desperate for an orgasm. At least one of us will get what we need.
She’s the one who dreamed of having a master, but I’m starting to wonder how I ever coped without Juliet as my slave.
She finishes the water, licking her lips. It doesn’t help my current painful predicament, and I adjust myself in my jeans. If I’m this worked up, how the hell must she be feeling?
Right on cue, the vibrations hit. Free of the gag, Juliet can’t hide her desperation. She bites her lip, body tense, eyes closed. When the vibrations stop, I unclamp her clit. She gasps as blood races to the sensitive spot, and I only give her a second to recover before I stroke my finger over it.
“Are you ready to ask me nicely yet, doll?”
She squirms, bells jingling, and I breathe in the scent of her. I love her like this, unperfumed and natural. Hot, needy, and desperate. I can’t hold myself back, tracing her curves. The curves that belong to me alone.
She’s still strapped down and helpless. I’m not freeing her until I get an answer. As I stroke her clit, she shifts, grinding on the dildos impaling her. The little minx. She’s hoping she can get herself off without doing as she’s told. Not happening.
I keep it up long enough that her eyes close and her subtle hip movements become more rhythmic. Just as she draws in a sharp breath, I pull my hand away.
She keeps grinding for a few seconds until her brain catches up, then her eyes snap open. Her lips part with a sad little noise, and her movements slow.
I shrug, unzip my jeans, and pull out my cock.
Her eyes latch on to it, and her mouth drops open. It would almost be funny, if it wasn’t so goddamn sexy. I’ve fucked her as Saldar countless times. Did she expect me to deny myself the pleasure?
I start to work my cock in rough strokes, and the pressure of my hand is heaven, even though it’s not what I really want. Her eyes follow the movement, and my voice is rough as I say, “Last chance, doll. You won’t get another for a few days.”
I won’t even consider freeing her from the cell until she passes this basic test, but I’m not telling her that.
And right now, I don’t give a flying fuck.
All I care about is the way she’s watching me as I pump my own cock.
Oh well. A few days of desperation will soon have her being extra polite.
I might make her crawl to me next time. I might—
“Please.”
Her quiet voice echoes in the cell. It’s a challenge, but I force myself to still my hand as triumph scorches my veins.
“Please, what?”