15. Dominik
CHAPTER 15
DOMINIK
I n the middle of all the pine trees, there’s an intricate stump with a web of tangled tree roots rising from the ground. As I follow their twisted paths, I notice half of a tree jutting out from the wall, adorned with ropes, knots, and loops. This place is meant to mimic an outdoor Christmas tree farm, but tying someone to a pine tree would be a challenge, so I appreciate the added prop for those of us who enjoy bondage.
I push Selene against the wall, turning her around and pinning her there with my hand on her throat. I lift her up, wedging my knee between her legs to ensure she can still breathe as I bind her to whatever is available. When I’m finished, I leave my belt hanging around her neck—it might come in handy when she gets mouthy again.
Nothing gets me harder than a defiant brat.
You want me to hurt you? I take pleasure in that so keep pushing my buttons and see the marks I’ll leave on your body.
She squirms, a pathetic attempt at showing me she is trying to get out of the restraints but I can see right through her. This is making her drip. She’s pressing her thighs so tightly together, attempting to find some sort of relief.
She gets off on being a brat and I get off on punishing her.
We both know you won’t.
I toss away that thought, getting fucking fed up of my own brain for working against me. Swearing under my breath, I take out the Swiss Army knife I stole from one of the rooms and flick the blade open. Selene halts, her big eyes moving between me and the blade.
I wonder how much of the fear gets her wet.
Stepping close to her, I turn the knife and point it down, holding it against the nape of her neck.
“Are you scared?”
“Yes,” she breathes out.
“Good.” Grabbing the top of her sweater, I use the knife to slice the material open. Exposing her bare tits and watching her nipples harden as the cold air hits them. Leaning down, I look up at her with my mask as I tear her pants apart.
“Damn it. Was that really necessary?”
Yanking the ripped pants and sweater, I toss them aside, standing inches from her. Allowing my eyes to rake over her bare skin, loving the way she begins to squirm under my concealed gaze.
She can’t see me but I can see all of her.
I love hiding behind a mask; it makes me feel so powerful, a type of thrill I can’t even put into words. With this mask on, I can become anything she wants me to be—the kind of monster she’s only seen in her dreams. A dark, secret indulgence shared only between the two of us.
And I guess Aaron and Tristan, if they were here, but I’m a little relieved Aaron isn’t around to see this side of me.
Slowly, I drag the edge of the knife up her body, tracing it with care until it reaches her chin. Selene’s eyes widen, and her breathing quickens, unsure of what kind of animal she’s foolishly trusted.
“Open up,” I order, expecting resistance but she licks her lips before parting them.
Placing the knife horizontally in between her teeth, she bites down, the blade so close to her lips. “Keep that in place or you’re going to cut your beautiful, dirty mouth.”
Selene readjusts her arms, trying to get comfortable.
Impatient little slut.
Scanning the room, my eyes land on a black spreader bar tucked in the corner, surrounded by an assortment of toys. I leave her suspended for a moment, her soft whimpers following me as I retrieve it. When I return, she’s shivering faintly, her body trembling against the chill in the air. I act as if I don’t notice, my movements deliberate as I kneel and secure her ankles to the bar.
The mechanism locks in increments, and each subtle shift she makes forces her legs wider apart, leaving her completely exposed. Vulnerable. I take a step back, watching her squirm, her hips instinctively shifting as if seeking relief she can’t have. The sight sends a dark thrill through me—she’s powerless, unable to give her needy pussy a little rub.
I haven’t decided what to do with her yet, but one thing’s certain: whatever fantasies she has about being taken hard and fast in this position won’t be fulfilled tonight. Not by me anyways.
I just can’t bring myself to do it.
Walking back to the shelf, my eyes skimming over the collection of toys as my hand slips into my pocket. Pulling out the pager I’d swiped earlier—the one I’d found tucked under the hotel bar when everyone was too distracted with our shiny new plaything—I allow myself a small, satisfied smile, knowing I outsmarted Tristan.
His number is already committed to memory. Paying attention and always being ten steps ahead comes in handy for times like these.
Me: Come get your pet. She’s a little tied up at the Christmas tree farm.
I hope he gets pissed when he realizes his tight security didn’t work on me. Years of stalking and dealing with my addiction taught me a thing or two. I grab a few items before heading back to my little prisoner. I’m sure the anticipation is driving her crazy.
I start with the rope, tying it beneath one knee, looping it around her neck, and securing it behind the other knee. I make sure to avoid triggering the ankle bar.
“Beautiful, if I do say so myself.”
She moans, biting down on the knife to hold it in place. She could just drop it but she hasn’t. Drool glistens down her chin and her neck. I lift my mask and rest it on top of my head, taking a step toward her.
Selene’s body shakes as I slowly lick the spit off her skin.
I can smell them on her.
She starts yanking on the ropes and restraints, the ankle bar clicks into second place. I slap her hard, leaving a print on her bare ass. She shuts her eyes, breathing through the pain. But her nipples harden instantly, her body telling me just how much she’s enjoying all of this.
A bead of blood glides down her chin, and the little vibrator I secured to her buzzes to life as I slide the knife from her mouth. Grabbing her chin, I tilt her face to the side and drag the tip of my tongue along the trail of blood, sucking hard when I reach her lip where the blade split her open.
She whimpers, the restraints rattle again. “Touch me,” she breathes out.
I step back, staring down at her helpless little body one last time before pulling my mask down over my face.
I slip away, a thrill coursing through me as I glance back over my shoulder. Anticipation simmers just beneath my skin, eager for the moment the boys stumble upon the little gift I’ve left behind.
Sticking to the shadows, I position myself where I can see everything without being seen. The thought of watching them—observing every reaction, every touch, every kiss—feeds the beast in a new way. This isn’t just about the act; it’s about control, about orchestrating a moment that belongs entirely to me, even if they’ll never know it.