14
Logan
This time, when I wake up, the pain wracking my body has grown easier to deal with.
Not because the injuries hurt less than before, but because there are more of them, and the pain feels like a part of me now.
A necessary, inescapable part of me, because I’ve reached the conclusion that I’ll be hurting as long as Lia is in my life.
But I’d rather my body was entirely flayed, stabbed to pieces, and riddled with bullets, than lose her again.
That feeling doesn’t extend to Piper, though. I need to protect her. It hurts, but I also heave a sigh of relief when I awaken to the sight of Lia lying on her stomach on the bed, her hands firmly cuffed behind her back.
“Hi, ghost girl,” I murmur, inching toward her, wincing at the hand that does objectively hurt so bad that I wish I could just chop the useless thing off.
The wound has been treated, but I have a feeling it’ll leave quite the scar. Luckily, it’s not my dominant hand. The one I use to write, to brush my teeth, to, well…
Fuck, I’ve got such a hard-on right now.
I know Quill tied her up at my orders to protect Piper, and the handcuffs should be reminding me of just how serious and scary the situation is, but when I see her like this… it does something to me.
“Do you know who I am, Lia?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“What’s my name?”
She swallows. “Logan.”
“Good girl.” I stroke the side of her face. “You look really sexy with your arms tied behind your back.”
She swallows again, and a tear leaks out of her left eye.
“I think Quill tied me up like this because I… I hurt you,” she whispers. “And he thinks I could hurt Piper. Oh, god, do you think I could?” The tears fall harder. “Do you think I could hurt my own daughter?”
“No, I don’t,” I say with a conviction that I’m far from feeling. “And Quill didn’t tie you up because you hurt me, baby. He tied you up because I asked him to. Because I knew just how fucking hot you’d be, trussed up like this.”
I run a hand down her back and over the swell of her ass. She doesn’t look entirely reassured by my words, but I can tell she makes an effort to act like she believes them.
“I wish I could keep you tied up like this forever,” I murmur, stroking her ass then dipping down to touch her between her thighs. She whimpers. “You’re still my little captive, crybaby. I promised you, didn’t I? I said you’d be my captive for life.”
“Y-yes, Logan,” she murmurs.
I pause. “Where are they, by the way? Piper and Quill?”
“I think they went…” She blinks. “I think they went sightseeing. Piper wanted to go up some hill. Or some castle.” She chews on her lower lip nervously. “I don’t remember, Logan.”
“That’s okay, baby,” I tell her. “You don’t have to remember everything. Anytime I hear the word sightseeing in a conversation, my mind goes blank. I’ve already forgotten everything I just said. See?”
She gives me a small smile, and I grin back.
I’m nervous about the idea of my thoughtless daughter out and about in Belfast with a gang of angry masked bikers chasing us, but if I’ve learned anything since we’ve arrived in Ireland, it’s that Quill is a lot better at looking after her than I am.
“Anyway, that means I can have some time alone with my crybaby,” I murmur, kissing each of her wet eyes, then licking at her tears.
She squirms a little, which makes her thick ass bounce. I reward it with a loud, hard smack.
“Are you going to untie me first?” she asks shyly.
“Now, why would I do that? That wouldn’t be as fun, would it?”
It’s a little awkward to remove her panties with just one hand, but I make it work.
It’s pretty much impossible to remove the shirt she’s once more wearing, with her hands cuffed snugly behind her back, and there’s no way I can rip it.
There’s also no way I’ll cut through it with scissors.
I don’t think I want to see another pair of scissors in my life.
I settle for pushing her shirt all the way up, and admire what I can see of her tits, crushed against the mattress. I run a hand between the mattress and her breasts, tweaking at her nipples a little harder than I intended. She lets out a pained moan.
I’m not angry at her—of course, I’m not—but there is some frustration inside me. I’m not used to being turned into a punching bag. At least, I haven’t been used to it in many years. Not since Lia vanished.
Now, I’m back to showing the visible signs of her pain, and blaming myself for everything she does. But if I can just take out all my frustration on her body… I think I’ll be okay.
“What’s my name?” I murmur.
“Logan,” she whispers.
“That’s right, baby.”
I don’t want to take advantage of her when her mind is turned off. But I definitely am going to take advantage of her, just as long as she remembers who I am.
I force aside the thought that her mind could turn off permanently.
It won’t happen. It can’t happen. I promised her I would fix her, and I can’t break a promise again.
My eyes rove down toward her ankles. One of them has a cuff around it, but it isn’t secured to anything. I stroke her lower legs, and her feet twitch when I land on her soles.
“Now, why did Quill not cuff your ankles together too, ticklish girl?”
“Uhm…” She wriggles harder. “He was going to, but Piper told him… it was okay to just lock the door.”
“Hmm.” I stroke her feet more insistently, and she squirms, her ass jiggling and making me so hard I think I’ll burst.
“I’m glad he left your legs free, so I could tie them myself,” I murmur. “Remember when I tied you to those hooks in the warehouse?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have brought back that memory. I don’t know if it’s a painful one for her, or if what I did to her there makes up for the context.
I exhale when she smiles and blushes.
“I’m going to tie your ankle to this post, baby. You can say red. Remember what red means?”
“Yes, Logan,” she murmurs.
I wish she had a little more fight in her, like in the old days. But at least she remembers my name… for now.
I cuff her ankle to one of the bed posts, then look at her other leg. I want to tie it up too, but I’m all out of handcuffs. So I remove my belt, but pause when she gasps loudly.
“Logan, I’m sorry… please don’t… don’t…”
“Shh, baby.” I run my fingers up and down her spine. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Why does this belt scare you?”
She shivers. “Don’t… don’t… Please don’t hit me…”
“Shh.” I toss the belt to the side and lie down beside her, trying to ignore my hard-on. “Hey, I’m not going to hit you. Not if you don’t want me to. Okay, Lia? Everything’s okay.”
“Okay.” She gulps. “You can hit me. Just please, not with the belt, Logan.”
“I promise,” I tell her. A twinge of anxiety in my stomach makes me hold her closer. “What happened, baby? Did someone beat you with a belt?”
She blinks fast, turning cloudy eyes at me. “I don’t know, Logan. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to stop. Please keep going.”
I hesitate. “Okay.” Then I draw up on my knees, going back to running my fingers up and down her back and over her ass. I know I should insist, but I need her so bad. I’m going to get to the bottom of it… later.
“I only wanted to tie you with the belt,” I breathe. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, Logan.” She shivers, squirming again, and I can’t help but smack her ass hard, leaving my imprint on the opposite cheek.
“You’re so fucking hot, baby. I’m going to tie that squirming leg of yours to your chest. You’re going to be helpless, just how you like it, and I’m going to use your helpless body.”
She shivers again. “Yes, please, Logan.”
I slip the belt around her torso, securing it to the back of her knee so her leg is pressed against her side.
“Comfortable, Lia?”
“Not… exactly.”
I chuckle. “Good.”
I take a few steps back, admiring my handiwork. In this position, I can see absolutely everything. And what’s even better is she knows it. Her blush travels to her shoulders and back, and it makes the light pink on her ass look pale in comparison.
“The first thing I’m going to do is paint you red all over,” I say, and her surprised squeak turns into a yelp of pain when my hand falls fast over her ass, upper thighs, and even the inside of her cheeks, which her position keeps spread for me.
When she’s fully reddened, I bring my hand down to her folds, giving them the same treatment. I can’t decide what’s better. My hand, spanking out all my frustration, my anxiety, my pain into her skin, or her body, held open for me, helplessly taking everything I choose to give it.
All of it feels amazing. Fucking amazing. She’s all mine. I own her.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all, to keep her trussed up permanently like a Thanksgiving Turkey—just like Damien said. I wouldn’t mind it at all.
Just as long as she remembers who I am.
The idea that after finding my ghost girl again, her mind could melt away… it’s too hard to bear.
To avoid sinking into those painful thoughts, I take my cock out and, fisting it, I drag it through her arousal before positioning it at her back entrance.
“Oh god, what are you…”
“What’s my name, Lia?” I ask her urgently.
“Logan. Logan. Logan!” The last word leaves her mouth in a shriek as I shove my cock between her cheeks, forcing my way past the ring of muscle that seems to have grown even smaller than before.
“It hurts, Logan. It hurts!”
Tears drench her cheeks as I hold her to me. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. The worst is done. I’m inside you. Now, you’re just going to have to take it. I need to hurt you, baby. I need to fucking hurt you. Is it red?”
“N-no, Logan…”
“It’ll be over soon, baby. Take it like a good girl. You’re my good girl, aren’t you? The more you tense, the more it’ll hurt. But you can stay tense, baby. I don’t mind if it hurts.”
Her body is tense, and I can only imagine how painful it must be after all these years. But I can’t help it; I’m only human. I sink into my selfishness, knowing that each of my thrusts sends pain through her. Which only makes me thrust harder.
At last she sags against the mattress. She’s not really enjoying it, I think, but she’s submitting to it, letting me use her body. Or maybe part of her is enjoying it—I wrap my hand around her and realize her pussy is wetter than before.
“You’re my little pain slut, aren’t you?” I coo in her ear.
“Ahhh… Logan… don’t stop…”
“I don’t want you to enjoy it,” I growl in her ear. “I want to hurt you.”
I leave her pussy to latch onto her nipple with my good hand, and pinch it. She howls, and I drive into her harder, pinning her to the bed with the full weight of my body so all she can do is take it.
“It hurts… fuck… it hurts so good!”
Those words push me over the edge. My balls tighten, and then I feel my full load gush into her. I fall on top of her and wrap my arms around her helpless body. “Yes,” I murmur. “I think I am going to keep you like this.”
I twist her around, the cuff on her leg having just enough give to let me. Then I kiss both her nipples, one of them a deep red, the other one barely pink. “Too bad I only have one good hand. I’ve neglected your left tit, baby.”
She closes her eyes, tears shining on her cheeks, and I hungrily lap them up. “I don’t know if I prefer your hands behind your back—they do make your tits pop out—or over your head, the way you used to keep them. I like you kneeling on the ground with your arms up. Don’t you, baby?”
She opens her eyes, fog dulling her usually sparkling contact lenses.
“Didn’t you like it when you used to kneel on the ground while I tortured your tits, brat?” I insist. “Hmm? Or do you prefer being my good girl?”
“Uhm…” She licks her dry lips. “Uhm, sorry…”
“Yes, ghost girl?”
“Sorry.” She squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them once again. “I’m very sorry. Who are you?”