CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“You look so good in red.” There's a sick twinge of amusement in Lucian's tone that makes me tremble with fear.
Who is this man, and what has he done with the guy that I love?
I look up at Lucian, and all I see is a monster. I'm alright though. He didn't kill me. It felt like he was going to, but he didn't. He wouldn't. I know this game. Even if I've already decided that I hate it, I know it. He's going to push me until I think I'm dying, and then he's going to give me a taste of life. I have him figured out. At least, I think I do.
I can't give up now. This is what I came into this room for. I have to show him that I can do this. But even if I can do this, will I be able to force myself to do it on the regular?
It's a complete mindfuck to know that this is what he needs. To know that if I give it to him, I will never be myself again. It will change me completely. Damage me. I can't pretend that it wouldn't. And it's even more disheartening to realize that there are some women out there who love this. Who live for this. Those are the girls of Flesh. The ones he doesn't want to give up. Would it be so bad if I passed this burden off to them?
That's not what I want though, and I know it. I want him to belong to me entirely, and this is the only way. I have to make it through this. I have to mentally temper myself somehow, to find that subspace where this can be acceptable to me, even if I don't enjoy it. It's the only way that Lucian and I will ever be completely committed to one another.
I take a few minutes to catch my breath before pulling myself up off of the floor and resuming my kneeling stance in front of him. When I gaze up at him again, my expression is challenging.
Is that all you've got? If this is your worst, then I can handle it. I will handle it.
If he's impressed, I can't tell. The look in his eyes is pure evil. He's gazing down at me as if I'm something to be destroyed and discarded. It's unsettling, but I refuse to show him my fear.
He reaches down to touch my cheek again, and I reflexively wince away, then I quickly regain my composure, letting him touch me. He's so gentle, but the mood isn't the same as before. I don't want to lean into him. I don't want to be soothed by his touch. I want to lash out at him or bite him, but I know I can't. That's not part of this game.
“You look frightened,” he comments.
“I'm fine,” my voice is stern.
“Are you?” He hooks his finger around my collar again, and panic races through me.
Oh shit, he's going to choke me again. I don't know if I can handle it. I can't. What if he does it too hard this time?
He begins to pull on the collar, and I feel my blood pressure rise by about ten degrees from the first tug. “Get up.”
I quickly stand, alleviating the pressure on my neck. He doesn't let go of the collar, he merely uses it to guide me to my feet.
When I'm standing, he reaches up and grabs a handful of one of my breasts. The sensation of his palm brushing over my nipple instantly makes it perk, and I feel the betrayal of desire pass through me. Silently, I chastise my body. I should not be enjoying his touch at this point, not after what he just did. Not with horrors looming on the horizon.
His tender touch is trickery. It will turn to pain in a heartbeat. I already know this, and I do my best to mentally prepare myself for it.
He slides another finger beneath my collar and balls his hand into a fist, causing that familiar strangling sensation. It's not as intense as before though, not as restrictive. I can still suck in small breaths.
I gasp as he jerks me forward, my mouth crashing against his. He kisses me roughly, his tongue taking advantage of my parted lips. At the same time, his fingers curl into the soft flesh of my breast, sending a bite of pain racing through my chest. For all of his harshness though, I find it all oddly pleasurable.
Weakly, I kiss him back, my mouth moving with his when I'm not fighting to breath. The burning pain in my chest sends heat straight to my core. Lucian moans softly as he sucks on my tongue and then my bottom lip, his warm breath playing across my skin. I stare up at the ceiling, and I feel like I'm falling somewhere between pleasure and pain that I can actually appreciate.
My nipple slips between his fingers, and he pinches and tweaks it, which makes me shudder from the tiny contractions it causes between my legs. I feel almost drunk from the loss of air and the firm touch of his lips and the pleasant sensation of having my nipple played with.
Then he pulls away from me again, withdrawing entirely. His mouth. His hands.
The pressure on my neck goes away. Air rushes into my lungs. And I feel dumbstruck, staring at him, watching him assess my reaction.
“I think it's time we move on,” he says as if he's displeased, and I wonder if I did something wrong. Perhaps I shouldn't be enjoying this.
A small cry falls from my lips as he grabs the back of my collar and roughly guides me to a bondage tower on a pedestal. He forces me to step up onto it and presses my breasts roughly against the padding. The cold surface makes my nipples bead and sends a shiver down my spine.
“Wrap your arms around it,” Lucian instructs me.
When I do what I'm told, he goes to work binding my hands.
At first, I worry about leaning forward, that my weight might tip the tower over, but as soon as I realize how sturdy it is, I relax against it. The padding is stupidly comfortable, and if I didn't know that I was about to be tortured, I could probably fall asleep just like this.
Once Lucian has secured my hands, he walks back around to make sure that my legs are sufficiently spread.
“Do not move and do not look back at me. If you look back, I'll make you regret it.” There's a very clear threat in his tone, one that demands obedience.
I have no desire to act against his wishes. After the choking, I'm very sure that he would live up to his word of making me regret it if I did disobey him. Besides, I'm honestly too comfortable to move.
I stand there with my ear pressed against one of the wood beams composing the tower, listening to Lucian move somewhere behind me. There's a brief jingling sound, so I can only assume he's taking something down from one of the racks. The thought that I'm about to be wiped or flogged or something of that nature for the first time is kind of exciting. After this, I'll be able to honestly say that I've done some pretty kinky stuff.
It feels like a short forever before Lucian finally returns to me. The first thing I feel is a cold, rough material tracing up the inside of my leg from my ankle to my inner thigh. I hold my breath as it gets higher and higher, my body tensing while he makes a slow ascent towards my pussy.
I bite my bottom lip as the object whispers over my folds. It feels surprisingly good, even though the material is rough. Probably thick leather. Just the tiny bit of contact makes my loins ache with need.
“Do you like that?” he asks.
“Mhm.” I nod slightly, closing my eyes and soaking in the sensation.
“Well, enjoy it, because I'm about to do something that you definitely won't like,” his voice darkens, causing a twinge of fear to race through me that completely erases the pleasure I was feeling.
My breathing is becoming labored with anticipation. Internally, I tell myself not to worry. It can't possibly be that intense. But then I think about the choking, the panic I felt when I thought I might pass out or that he might break my neck. Suddenly, the bondage tower has become a lot less comfortable.
Lucian finishes tracing the outline of my legs. When he's done, he steps onto the platform with me. I feel his fingers weave into my ponytail, and he jerks my head back so far that my neck aches from it. I cry out in a mix of shock and pain, wincing from the strain.
His face is mere centimeters from mine, his hot breath bouncing off of the tower and wafting across my face. “I'm going to show you pain the likes of which you never thought you could feel.”
And just like that, he's gone again.
I pant loudly, pressing my cheek against the tower. The foreboding in his words has sent my fear to a whole new level. It's mental manipulation at its finest. Even though I know what he's doing, I can't fight the effects of it. I'm absolutely terrified, and he hasn't even touched me yet.
I try to prepare myself for what's coming, repeating in my mind the mantra mind over matter. Mind over matter. You can do this. Your mind controls your pain threshold.
WHAP!
The entire world goes red around me. A shrill, high-pitched scream echoes in my ears, and it takes me several seconds to realize that it's my own voice bouncing off of the walls. Tears burn my eyes, but they can't even compare to what I feel in my back. Pain the likes of which I never imagined could exist. It's like a three hundred pound man took sandpaper, put all of his weight on my back, and pulled it across between us. There's extreme warmth followed by a coolness which I can only imagine is blood. My legs give out beneath me as my body goes into complete shock.
Before I even know what's going on, my bonds are being unfastened. I find myself on the floor in Lucian's arms. He cradles me, holding me against his chest while I shiver and shake.
“Oh God, Amy. I'm so sorry. Fuck. I'll never do that again. Please forgive me. Please.” He kisses me on top of my head, his arms wrapped so tightly around me that I'm practically smothered.
I need this though. I need to be held after something so traumatic.
I press my face against the front of his suit and sob out all of my pain. Uncontrollable, unrestrained sobbing that seems to radiate from the very depths of my body. It's not just because I'm in massive amounts of pain. That's already beginning to die down. It's also because I know now that he was right. I can't do this. I can't give him what he needs. I'm not enough. I have to let him go. I have to let him keep working at Flesh.