Chapter 12
Ella
My punishment is every bit as humiliating as they said it would be. I am kept on a leash on hands and knees. I am not permitted to rise, or stand unless I am on my own. Aiden takes the lead on my containment, while the other two orbit. I feel as though I am surrounded by predators at every moment.
BP has been killed. It is all over the news.
No mention of any primate involvement, but the way it is being referred to as cartel execution style makes me suspect Aiden was involved.
When I look into the man’s eyes, I see capacity for all manner of horrors.
I will never know exactly what the Levin boys did to BP.
But I do know that once they put me back in that cage, they left for several hours, and came back smelling of death.
On this evening, a week on from the beginning of my punishment, I sit on the floor beside him at the dinner table, being fed occasional scraps from his fingers. Every time I try to rise from my kneeling position, I am pushed firmly back down. There is absolutely no respite from his vicious mastery.
“You can’t treat me like this forever,” I mutter under my breath.
He slides two fingers under my chin and turns my face up to him. I look up into his reddish-brown eyes that have so much soul and somehow so much darkness in them at the exact same time.
“I could happily do this for years,” he says. “A lifetime of owning a pet like you would be quite entertaining. But I understand you might need more than I can feed you with my fingers, so I have made arrangements.”
A silver bowl was placed on the table earlier by a butler who pretended not to notice what is going on. He places some food in it, then slides it onto the floor in front of me.
“You can feed yourself,” he says. “But not with your hands. Be a good little pet and eat it like the animal you are.”
He’s trying to shame me. He thinks if he can break me of my humanity and force me to act like an animal, he’ll be in more control. But this is all game playing really. There is no amount of punishment that will bring his brother back, and we both know it.
“Hey,” he snaps, tugging my head back so I look up at him. “You’re thinking,” he says. “And I don’t care for what you’re thinking.”
“How would you know what I’m thinking?”
He smiles at me, but it doesn’t get to his eyes. It lingers about his mouth for a moment, then dies. “I know so much about you, Ella. I know what lives inside you. I know what you love, and I know what you hate.”
I know that can’t be true. People can’t see inside other people’s heads. But there’s a little part of me that almost believes him. Aiden’s instincts are uncanny, and his temperament is well known as being borderline psychic.
He releases me again, and I am faced with the choice to eat from a bowl like a common household pet, or go hungry. I am much more inclined to go hungry. He can starve me to the point of eating out of a bowl if he likes, but I’m not going to hand this victory to him so easily.
“Lay off her, man. Let her at least sit at the table,” Luke speaks up.
Luke doesn’t have the stomach for this the way the others do.
The Levin family could be understood, in some ways, as having been printed on a machine with evil ink.
Aiden got the first, best, fullest dose.
It started to run a little lower with Leo, but he still has plenty of it in him.
Luke got perhaps a quarter dose, and it was all but gone by the time Teddy was born.
“Pets belong on the floor,” Aiden says. “Vicious little creatures who plot against us are fortunate to be alive.”
“I didn’t plot against you. I was a tool in it.”
He knows that. They all do. I don’t know why I am bothering to defend myself, knowing that it isn’t really a defense. I was involved in Teddy’s death, I am guilty, and this treatment could be worse.
Aiden looks down at me, then up at his brother. “I think I’ll take my girl for a walk,” he says, clipping a leash to the collar at my neck.
Aiden
My brother keeps arguing for the woman who needs to be punished. Ella needs for something to happen. She needs to suffer to some extent so she can forgive herself, let alone be forgiven by us. Sometimes these nuances are lost on my brother.
I, in the meantime, have a new toy waiting in my bedroom that will continue the process of atoning for sins so deep they stain souls.
She crawls next to me, more lithe and agile than she gives herself credit for. I know that holding these rules for her, forcing her to do as I tell her, enforcing the boundaries of my world will help her adjust in time. Giving in and letting her sit at our table is not an option. Not yet.
What awaits for my sweet pet is a set of low stocks, the height for a woman to put her head and arms through while kneeling, keeping her head under control.
“In you go,” I order gently, but firmly.
She looks pouty and resentful, and I am sure she thinks she deserves better treatment than this, but I disagree.
She does not argue. She puts herself into position, her head and arms supported by the stocks, her upper body resting on a padded bench that makes the position less painful than it might otherwise be.
I run my hand over her bare rump, presented very prettily in this animal position. Sliding one finger inside her for a brief moment, I pump her wet sex a couple of times. She is aroused, and I want her to know that I know it.
There could be all sorts of preamble to sex, but on this occasion what I want more than anything is just to use her. She is wet enough to be taken, that I have already ascertained.
So, moments later, my cock stretches her wide. The sight of her pussy lips stretched around me while she wriggles in the stocks is delightful. I have full control of her and her body, a significant portion of which is wrapped around my cock.
I hold myself deep inside her and let her get used to the feeling of being in the stocks and being filled. I want her to sense my control, and to know that I can use her like his whenever I please.
My phone rings. Perfect.
I take the call while I am inside her. It’s a logistics conversation, and occasionally I pump myself in and out of her, withdrawing all the way to the tip and holding myself there for a long moment before sliding back in.
“If we send them to the south dock,” I say, lubing a finger up and slowly toying around the tight bud of her ass. She emits a few grunts and moans, but she can’t really do anything but take what I give her.
She crouches there, her pussy wrapped around my cock, her ass pulsing around my finger, her sense of control no doubt deserting her by the moment as she begins to truly understand that there will be no escape from me.
I will take everything from her. She will pay for her sins over and over.
She will give up the burden of grief with the suffering of penitence.
I end the call and fuck her firmly for a while, jolting her against the stocks as her tight little cunt grips and pulses around my cock.
“I could keep you like this day after day,” I say conversationally.
“I could have my desk modified so your head fits through at the front, and I could fuck your pussy whenever I pleased, keep you lubed and plugged all through the day, so whenever I wanted any of your holes, I could simply fuck you.”
She moans and squirms, orgasm all too far away for her, but the scene my words evoke giving her so much anticipatory pleasure she cannot help but show me with the whimpering and the writhing and the general eager submission to my cock and her place on it.
“Come on my finger,” I growl down at her. “Come for me, you sinful little wretch. Show me how sorry you are, and how loyal and obedient you are going to be for me now that I am in full control.”
Those words push her over the edge, both of her tight holes contracting as orgasm washes through her. She gives herself to me. All of her. Her desire, her release, her complete submission.
I make a mental note to start construction on some alterations in my office.
Ella
Aiden’s punishment continues on and on. The man is insatiable and creative in equal measure.
I sleep in the cage at night, at his insistence, and during the day I am taken out when he wants me.
He always wants me. I spend hours per day crawling, sitting, kneeling at his feet.
The experience is beginning to make me think I might never be permitted to walk again.
“Come to my office, pet,” he says one afternoon, giving the leash a light tug. “I have something for the both of us.”
I am not wearing clothes. Being nude is part of the experience. Sometimes he allows me underwear, but today is not one of those days. There is no bra to support my swaying breasts, or material to cover my pussy and ass as I crawl through the opulent Levin family home.
The moment we enter his office, I recall his earlier promise. It has been days since the stocks in his bedroom, but now there is a specially altered desk in his office.
I cannot believe this. There is nothing he will not do to indulge his dark desires when it comes to me. Most men think a butt plug is going all out. Sweet Teddy would never have done any of this. He was far too kind and charming.
But Teddy is gone, and I am at the mercy of his evil eldest brother now. Evil might be a strong word, but I think in many ways it is the right one.
“Crawl through there,” he says, indicating the underside of the desk. “The side panels will slide in place once you are in position.”