Aurora
A beautiful, cool day. I’m strolling through the empty paths of the Regent Amusement Park. When I was a child, my father often brought me here. Even though he was always buried in work, he made time for me, spoiled me, gave me pretty silk ribbons for my hair and delicate velvet chokers for my neck.
Now, I’m alone. Not a soul around. Evening falls quickly, and the shadows grow longer and longer.
I flinch as I notice, in the deepening gloom, figures in black clothes with black faces appearing one by one.
I immediately break into a run, but the shadows close in on both sides, forming a living corridor, and ahead, right under the metal lattice of the roller coaster, a tall male figure in all black rises.
His face isn’t black but hidden by the most beautiful and most terrifying mask in the world—white, scored with golden claw marks.
My heart pounds against my ribs, and I clench my thighs, recoiling from him with sticky terror.
The man takes a slow, predatory step toward me. The other shadows just watch, and I step back.
He stops, and I swallow the tight lump in my throat, burning with shame that just his terrifying presence makes my nipples throb.
No! Not this! I don’t want to be his.
I can almost feel his heavy, dark gaze sliding over my breasts—I’m only wearing a light summer sundress, with no underwear. A tremor runs through me, my tits heaving beneath the thin fabric. Something tightens around my neck—probably a leather choker.
I jerk to the side, hoping to slip through a passage between the pavilions, but he catches me in one move, grabbing me by the throat. A yank, and I’m flying into the open mouth of the Wheel of Joy cabin. Dad’s and my favorite ride, but Dad isn’t here. Only my living nightmare.
He slams me face-first into the soft seat, throwing his full weight on top of me. A rough rope snakes around my wrists, burning my skin. He secures my hands behind my back so sharply that I cry out, but between my thighs, a treacherous, feverish heat pools.
God, save me!
He doesn’t let me get up. The cabin jolts and begins to rise, soaring into the black sky. I try to twist away, to hit him, but he shoves me back against the viewing glass with his forearm.
“Stand still, you gray-collar hooker!” he growls, pressing me against the transparent panel.
Tears blur my eyes, and he flips up the hem of my dress. His knee forces my thighs apart, and his gloved hand immediately covers my cunt. I cry out.
“Heh, get what you deserve, whore.” There’s a mocking satisfaction in his voice.
I whimper, my whole body shaking. I hate him, I’m afraid of him, but this thick sweetness inside me is driving me insane.
“Who are you trying to fool with your tears?” He squeezes my throat. “You do understand that you belong only to me now, don’t you?”
I jolt awake with a strangled cry. Shooting up, I dig my fingers into the couch upholstery and look around frantically.
My heart pounds. I’m no longer in the club.
The music and neon lights are gone, and I’m in a windowless room, with two doors facing each other.
I’m still wearing the same dress I came to Savannah in, and that shitty gray collar.
My shoes have been placed neatly by the wall.
Exhausted, I lean back and stare at the ceiling. My mouth is dry as a desert, a bitter aftertaste of alcohol clinging to my tongue. Desire must have moved me here while I was out. The thought brings a strange relief. If it’s him, I’m safe. For now.
A click of a lock behind me cuts through the silence. I turn and jump to my feet, barely stifling a frightened cry. Not a trace remains of my fragile calm.
“Desire?!” My voice cracks.
“Call me whatever you want.” His voice is filtered through a modulator—low, mechanical, making my cheeks flush. He’s wearing baggy black clothes and the white-and-gold mask. Exactly like in the nightmare I just woke from. “It won’t change what I am.”
He steps toward me, and I back away, pressing my lips together.
My legs tremble, threatening to give out.
As he advances, I realize just how obvious my state is to him.
My breathing is ragged, my nipples painfully stiff, clearly visible through the thin fabric of my dress.
I got aroused in my sleep, and he can see it perfectly through the slits of the mask.
“You’ve been a bad girl,” he says, looming closer.
I retreat on bare feet, not daring to turn my back on him. My heart leaps into my throat, and I swallow it down.
“You drugged me?”
“Just a sleeping pill.” He chuckles shortly.
That laugh sends sticky fear crawling over my skin. My fingers frantically search for the door handle behind me. I yank and the lock gives. The path is clear, but my body is frozen.
“Desire …”
“Run. And be ready for your punishment.” The voice, distorted by the modulator, sounds impassive, but I feel in my bones that it’s not. Desire is furious.
I hover on the threshold. Of course, he dressed like this on purpose. He read my therapist’s notes. He knows what nightmares I have. Knows that in my dreams, my Prince Harming hunts me. Knows that he always catches me.
“Why are you doing this?!” My cry bounces off the walls of the windowless room.
“What did you expect?” He snorts. “You put on a fucking gray collar. That means you’re a prey.”
“I didn’t put it on!” Once words escape me, I bite my lip.
“Is that so? Who did, then?” He tilts his head slightly to the side.
Answering that is beyond my strength. Panic takes over. I spin around and run, nearly slipping on the smooth floor with my bare feet.
His laughter echoes behind me, slamming into my back.
The hallway is short—I crash into a heavy door.
My gaze falls on a touchscreen lock, and my heart skips a beat.
The path is blocked. But I reach for the scanner …
. Green light. A click. The door gives. Cold sweat breaks out over me.
While I was unconscious, he took my fingerprints and entered them into the security system. What game is he playing?
There’s no time to think. I throw my weight against the heavy door and tumble out onto a small rectangular terrace tiled with ceramic. Beyond it lies an enclosed garden, its dense thickets drowning in ominous twilight. A strange, stuffy smell hits my nose.
I lunge toward the saving darkness of the branches, but strong arms yank me back, and my spine slams into his stone chest.
“Please …” leaves my lips on a whisper.
His palm lands on my bare stomach exposed by the cutout of my dress, burning my skin. The other slides higher, encircling my throat. My eyes widen. His hard cock presses into my ass through the rough fabric of his pants.
Somewhere in the normal world, I would be on my way to my parents’ house, but he decided otherwise. Desire has complete control over my life, over every breath I take. Judging by my throbbing cunt, my body is going to enjoy it.
The fingers on my neck tighten, cutting off my air for a second. From this wild mix of suffocation and arousal, my underwear gets drenched. My lips part on a silent scream, my chest heaving, desperately searching for air.
“What a delicious bad princess you are.” The mechanical voice rumbles by my ear, and the grip on my neck loosens slightly, letting me take a ragged breath. “On your knees.”
He lowers himself smoothly, hauling me with him, and my treacherous body obeys without question.
“Bend over.”
A broad palm lands between my shoulder blades, forcing me to arch my back and drop onto all fours on the cold tiles of the small terrace before the dark thicket.
“Is this … my punishment?” I force out breathlessly, barely recognizing my own voice. Punishment with arousal? With heat pooling low in my belly? I rub my ass against his erection. My breathing stutters as he gathers the silk of my dress and pushes it onto my back.
His palm lands on my back again, forcing me to arch deeper, pressing my tits into the hard tiles.
“Do you really think your punishment is an orgasm?” He snorts, his distorted voice vibrating inside me. “Who put that collar on you?”
I turn my face away, even as I push my hips back toward his groin.
Through the frantic pounding of blood in my ears, I imagine a growl coming from the dense thickets a few feet away. My blood runs cold.
“You’re teasing a predator right now.” Desire’s cold tone lashes my frayed nerves. “But you’re used to that, aren’t you? Lift your ass. Higher.”
I raise my hips, not taking my eyes off the dark bushes. Did a branch snap or not? I must have imagined it. Surely, it’s just my burning fears playing a sick game with me. There’s no one there. There can’t be anyone there.
Desire squeezes my ass, kneading the flesh, and the jolt sends a tremor down my spine.
“I’m going to teach you to respect predators,” he promises.
He grabs my thin lace panties and tears them down the middle. Clearing the way, his hand slowly, teasingly trails down my bare ass to my cunt, which is already throbbing with unbearable wetness.
“And to fear them,” he adds on a whisper.
Another growl—deep, vibrating, terrifyingly animalistic—comes to me again from the dense foliage right in front of my face. The hairs on my arms stand on end.
“D-Desire …, I think I really hear something out there …”
His fingers slide along my labia, spreading my arousal.
“So what?” There’s no surprise in his artificial voice. “Should I stop? Leave you here?”
“Devil, no …” I gasp, grinding my ass against his hand, ready to forget whoever is lurking in the darkness as long as he keeps going.
“You’re my insatiable girl,” he growls, tugging down his pants. His cock presses against my folds, and my body tenses with sharp need.
Why does he always turn me on like this?
“Yes, yours,” I moan, trembling as the tip of his cock enters me.