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“Show me your bracelet, my little pet,” Maksim's voice is stark and enraged, evil lust coming off him in waves. “Show it to me!”
I whimper, terrified out of my mind, then I brace myself up on one elbow and reach back to show him my bracelet.
Long fingers curl around my wrist and pull my arm back some more.
“Aargh!” I scream so hard as he bites me, his teeth sinking into my wrist.
He kisses the bite mark after—I hiss. It's so sore—and then he licks over each puncture with the tilt of his tongue. “Every time you look at this bracelet, you will think of me—this scar will make you.”
Letting go of my wrist, he shifts on his knees, causing his cock to shift inside my ass. My stomach rolls. I vomit again, retching so hard that my belly pangs in pain.
I think I mentally pass out from here. It's just too much.
I vaguely hear Maksim ask if I want him to stop, and I tell him with weak effort, “No, c?p Maksim.” I wouldn't dare say anything else.
“Now that your mind is frail and open,” he lies over my back, crushing me, and says against my ear in a head drunk voice, “you will succumb to my orders.” Pulling out halfway, he tells me to prepare, and then plunges back in me, balls deep, tearing me apart. “You will not think about Charlie anymore, my little pet.”
Out, and back in with viciousness, he stretches me open.
I'm crying in agony through closed teeth. He’s groaning with rawness, the sound pulsing through my chest.
“You will not speak tohim!or anyone else without my permission. You'll not look at another man...” the rules are never ending, as is his cruelty. “I am the only man you want.”
Grabbing a hand full of my hair, he yanks my head back as he sits on his knees and fucks me with all he has, skin slapping against skin, him pounding my ass.
My body is shaking uncontrollably with cold sweat. I scream in agony every time he practically hits my stomach, until he cums violently, his cock getting longer and thicker, emptying inside me.
He doesn't beckon my arousal, not once—there's nothing hot about this. I'm as dry as a bone, disgusted with what he's doing to me, whimpering in pity for myself.
“That was good,” he drawls, “worth the wait.”
Curling his fingers around his cock, he slowly pulls all the way out of me. Warm juices slither down my inner thighs, over my knees, dripping on the bed.
Gasping with relief that it's over, I drop on the bed, but I only get a moment's rest before he continues his torture.
He climbs off the bed, causing me to bounce up and down on the mattress, and picks up a different whip from the floor-
Wa-tch!
-He beats me into a numb state, yelling with zeal that I'm his. “You will always be mine, my little pet!”
I don't even know how many times he sodomizes me. It's a pattern. He cums, stops for a while to whip me on the bed, then he fucks me again.
By morning, I’m empty that when he tells me I can go home and have the week off, I find my keys on the floor amid my clothes and leave the house naked, bar my bracelet. I fucking well earned this.
It's freezing outside, a typical English morning with a burning pink sunrise and silver frost on the trees. My breath mists the air. My nipples are bruised and hard like bullets—he must have pinched me. I don't remember.
The stony driveway crunches against the soles of my feet, but still, I can't feel a thing.
There's a blanket in the boot of my car, so I get it out to wrap myself up, and then I drive to my apartment.
London is before my very eyes, but I don't see a thing. I'm lost in my mind, trying to focus on anything other than what Maksim has just done to me. It's not as if he hasn't beaten me like that before, but last night felt different. It felt like a different kind of conditioning. Maybe because he's never had penetrative sex with me before.
Pulling into the underground car park, I get out of my car and walk lifelessly into the elevator, and then into my apartment. I drop the bloody blanket on the floor by the front door and patter into my bedroom, heading for the en-suite bathroom.
I'm not in any sort of pain until I get in the shower. The water isn't too hot but the welts on my back are on fire, so sore it's almost too much to bear.
While I wince in agony against the soap, I don't cry. I don't do anything. I simply get clean of semen and blood and Maksim's saliva, and crawl into bed without drying myself. I should clean up the bite mark on my arm with some vodka and bandage it up, but I can't will myself to move.
