“How dare you direct me, cunt?” Mark demanded, his eyes flashing. “Do you want to make it ten times worse for yourself? Shall I starve you for another day? Shall I cover your entire body with tape and slowly rip it off until you’re raw? Stand there and take it.”
She bit back the whimper as he took hold of a corner of the sticky silver tape. He ripped it from her cunt, causing the gold hoop to sway against her thigh. The pain was blinding, and maybe it was because she was so hungry, or maybe it was because of the pain, but the ceiling tilted. Her mouth filled with saliva. Spots appeared before her eyes as the ringing started in her eyes. She felt her knees buckle. She slipped gratefully away…
~*~
Winter was nearly over. Birds were trilling outside the window, singing in the trees. The sun was spilling out over puffy clouds, smearing the sky in golds and pinks. Mark stood in the bedroom doorway, watching Alana as she came awake. She stretched and sighed, falling back into the soft pillows.
“Good morning, beautiful girl,” he said as she focused on his presence. “Today’s the day. You’ve healed enough to see how the design will set permanently. I want you to see it.” He held a large hand mirror, which he brought to the bedside.
Alana sat up expectantly. He knew she was very curious, even eager, to see what he had wrought upon her flesh with fire and steel. He released the loose bed chains and held the mirror as Alana positioned herself until she could see the brand.
Alana stared in fascination at the looped ovals seared into her skin.
Mark removed the mirror and sat down beside her. “Well, what do you think?”
She smiled at him, and though he looked for it, he couldn’t see a trace of guile in her face. “It’s amazing. It’s as if someone carved it there. It’s so perfect.”
“Yes,” Mark agreed happily. “Pretty good for a first attempt, if I say so myself.”
It occurred to him that he’d like to show her off, to have someone in the world other than the two of them be a witness to what she had become—his perfect slave girl.
But of course that couldn’t happen. As far as the world knew, she was dead—another mysterious disappearance in these tragic and uncertain times. As for him, he had no family to speak of, save for an estranged stepbrother he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. His few friends had fallen away over the two years of his obsession with the lovely Alana Hunter.
Could he really hope to keep her here forever? Did he even want to? Wouldn’t he tire of this same woman? Of only her company?
No.
He would never tire of those deep blue eyes, so expressive of her feelings. He would never tire of that soft, supple skin, those full, perfect breasts, those dusty rose nipples, that delicious cunt that molded so tightly around his hard cock. He would never tire of her lovely smile—so rarely flashed, but all the more special because of that. Or those long, shapely legs and slender ankles. He would never tire of her increasingly graceful submission. Of whipping that perfect flesh until she flew. Of using that perfect body until she came.
But in the end, he had her because he’d taken her. He’d stolen her and held her in chains and fear. Yes, it was true there had been a shift over the past month—her submission seemed genuine, her passion authentic. But was that enough?
He had ripped her from the life she knew—the fame and fortune of being a movie star. He had forced her to submit. He had taken her against her will and kept her in chains. Did it matter that he had done it with passion, with love? Did it matter that every moment of his life he was consumed by her, by thoughts of her, by a need for her that was overpowering?
He claimed that he loved her, but had he ever given her a chance to respond in kind? He demanded her submission. He took what he wanted of her. But had he ever given her a choice?
Yet how could he? If he gave her a choice—if he opened the door and said stay or go, she would surely choose that which would take her from him. He would have nothing. No reason for continuing. She was his essence, and without her, he would dissolve, disappear without a trace.
That brought him back to the issue of love. He could possess her body forever. He could keep her here, bind her tighter, whip her harder, subjugate her more completely. But could he ever hope to win her heart? No matter how obediently she behaved, he could never compel her to love him.