Once again, I was thrown into the darkness, unaware of what would happen to me that night apart from the few words written on a card that had been delivered to my room that morning.

Along with it, like always, came an enormous bouquet of beautiful roses, mixed shades of red and pink together, and a cardboard box with an expensive designer brand’s name on it.

I opened it to reveal gorgeous stilettos, the a couple of shades darker than the blush in my cheeks, and a dress that made me feel like a goddess. It slithered over my body in gorgeous white silk, gathering and draping over my hipbones and over my tits so perfectly I wondered whether it had been made for me.

When the clock struck nine o’clock that night, I followed one of the silent maids toward the playroom. I’d become familiar with the space in the last few months since I was always led into the same room. It was decorated in black and deep red velvet, tones and fabrics so rich they felt like butter against my skin.

The maid left me alone in the playroom. The sunken bed was made perfectly, and the scent of roses lingered in the air. I looked around to see whether anyone was around but soon realized I was alone. An undeniable chill went down my spine, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. Thorn was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello?” I asked into the empty room, but there was no answer back.

And then, in the next second, I felt his presence like I always did. He was in the shiver down my neck, in the caress of his scent, in the whispered promise of my own magnetic attraction pulling me to him.

“Hello, Rose,” he said roughly, and I turned my head sharply to stare at him as he walked through the room.

“H-how did you get in here?” I asked, and he chuckled.

“Does it matter?” He approached me with slow and measured steps, taking my chin in his hands and gently caressing me as if I meant everything to him. “Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?”

“What are you going to do to me?” I asked in a breathless whisper, but he didn’t reply.

Instead, he walked over to the throne-like chair sitting in the corner of the room. He hadn’t used it before, not with me, and I stared as he took a seat like the master he was. He was regal in his dark handsomeness, regal yet so terrifying I was afraid to look at him for longer than a couple of seconds at a time.

“Will I like it?” My words were soft-spoken, but his smirk told me he’d heard me. “I’m afraid.”

“You better,” he said easily. “I want you to.”

I sank to my knees in front of him when he tapped his knee. It came so easily now - I submitted to him like it was what I’d been made to do all along. He motioned for me to come closer, and I crawled across the floor until I reached him.

His strong, capable hands put his tie around my eyes and knotted it in place. I couldn’t see a thing now, and in my panic, my arm shot up and my shaking fingers twined through his, bringing his fist to my mouth and kissing it with gentle, trembling lips.

“Will…” I whispered, rendered blind and so scared I thought I would combust on the spot. “Will it be you?”

He leaned against me, his strong masculine scent invading my nostrils.

“No,” he whispered in the shell of my ear, and I gasped for air as he moved back, smoothing a strong, capable hand over my glossy hair.

A second later, we were no longer alone. I could feel another man’s presence in the room, his breaths in my ear and my body responding to his pheromones.

I felt like a bitch in heat, desperate and deeply ashamed. I hung my head low and crawled in on myself until I was sitting in a little ball at Thorn’s feet.

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t let him.”

He didn’t move, but I could swear I’d heard his breath hitch.

“Please!” I begged, forgetting about the shame I felt. “Please, Thorn! No! Don’t!”

I was desperate to stop him from doing this all over again. In the back of my mind, I understood it as a punishment - for asking him stupid things and questioning his decisions that I knew nothing about.

He didn’t respond to my pleas, and soon after, I felt a strong fist wrap my hair around itself. I cried out loud helplessly, clinging to Thorn’s foot and grasping at his leg.

“Don’t!” I howled. “Don’t let him, Thorn! Please don’t let him don’t do this to me! I want to be yours!”

“For fuck’s sake,” an unknown voice muttered. I felt someone reach for me, and then a pair of hands ripped the tie off my eyes. I blinked into the sudden light, trying to assess what was going on, and my gaze connected with that of an impossibly tall stranger, shirtless, wearing only a pair of low-slung jeans that revealed the chiseled V of his hips.

Guiltily, I looked away, as if Thorn would punish me just for looking at him when in reality, he had wanted me at this man’s mercy himself.

“I’m not doing this,” the man said in a gravelly voice. “I’m not dealing with a fucking broken toy!”

“She’s not broken,” Thorn snarled at him, and I trembled with fear as the two men stared at one another in a silent face-off.

Feeling terrified, I climbed up Thorn’s legs until I was sitting on his lap, my heels clicking together in fear and my dress pooling on his lap. I positioned my ass next to his cock, desperate to feel him and eager to show him I wanted to belong to him, not the stranger he’d brought in for me.

“I’m not touching her,” the man growled. “You better deal with this, Thorn, or she’ll become fucking useless like Pia.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door hard behind him. The lock clicked into place, and Thorn and I sat there in complete silence, wondering what the hell had happened.

“You were going to make him fuck me,” I managed to get out. “The man, he…”

“Shut up, Rose,” Thorn muttered in a low growl. “You don’t understand anything.”

“No, you’re right.” My tone was cold as I pushed myself off his lap and stumbled steps away on the too-high heels. “I don’t. And I don’t even want to. I don’t want you to come near me ever again.”

“No?” He looked thunderous as he stood up from his throne, approaching me in a few long steps with his hand reaching up for me and his fingers wrapping tightly around my throat, squeezing the breath right out of me.

“You don’t want me to touch you again?” he asked me, a hint of a warning in his voice. “You don’t want me to choke the breath right out of you? I thought you loved it, my little Rose. I thought you fucking lived for it…”

“Please,” I breathed. “Don’t. Stop trying to hurt me. It’s never going to work.”

“No?” he repeated. “Not even if I stop those lungs of yours from breathing?” He pulled me in closer as I struggled against his grasp, my lips an inch away from his.

“Little Rose,” he said softly. “Will you hate me if you take your last breath between my fingers?”

I stared at him with glassy eyes filled with fear, not knowing what to tell him. I was deathly afraid of the man, yet my pussy still clenched with the need to feel him inside me again.

“You won’t hurt me,” I gasped, clawing at his tight grip on my neck.

“You don’t think I will?” he growled, and I shook my head as best as I could while I dangled from his fist. He looked like he was going to say something else, but instead, he let me go, gently catching me and pulling me into his arms when I tumbled down.

“You have no other choice,” I whispered. “Nobody will train me for you. Nobody wants me. Nobody wants to touch me. You’ll have to keep me or get rid of me forever.”

“Never,” he growled possessively, and I clung to him.

“Take my clothes off,” I said, and he let me down on the bed.

He looked at me splayed on the bed like that like a savage. Then he acted like one, too, tearing down the middle of my designer dress as if it were nothing but rags. The fabric ripped in shreds, sequins and pearls flew everywhere, white fabric slipping from my body and pooling on the floor. He stared at me like that, bared open for him with my feet still in the heels he’d chosen for me; nothing else. He’d instructed me not to wear lingerie and, ever the good girl, I’d obliged.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered darkly.

“So why won’t you touch me?” I whispered, my hands sliding over my slender body. “Why won’t you take this for yourself?”

He didn’t say a word, only staring at me.

“Almost every night you make me sleep alone,” I said. “Someone could take me.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” he groaned when I slipped my fingers between my lips and sucked on them hard. “They wouldn’t dare so much as to look at what’s mine.”

“But you won’t have me,” I said. “You won’t let go. You won’t train me. You won’t teach me.”

“I can’t,” he said, his voice rough, on the verge of breaking.

“Why not?” I whispered. “Why not, Thorn?”

My hands went down as he stared at me, down, down, down, and between my legs, opening my sex and showing him how wet I was for his hungry eyes.

“Fuck,” he muttered as I positioned my finger over my clit, lingering over the bundle of nerves and ready to make myself come at the nearest opportunity. “Stop, Rose.”

“I’m not stopping,” I told him plainly.And then two fingers went inside my cunt, and one inside my asshole while he watched. I moaned myself towards an orgasm, fucking myself as his fists grew tighter and tighter, his knuckles so white I thought he’d bust a goddamn vein.

“Tell me,” I begged him while I played with myself. “Tell me why I’m not good enough to be trained by you, Master…”

“You are,” he breathed, and I pushed another finger into my cunt, moaning obscenely. “Fucking shit, Rose, would you stop that?”

“Nuh-uh,” I shook my head, licking my bottom lip when I felt myself nearing that inevitable orgasm. “Not until you tell me why you’re so…”

I moaned. So close.

“Why you’re SO…”

“I’m what?” he asked urgently, taking a step closer.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” I cried out, verging right on the precipice. One more push of my fingers, and I would be coming.

“Stop it,” he said, sounding like he were in pain. “Last fucking warning, Rose.”

“No,” I growled and fucked myself harder.

It was coming, building inside me. The second I fell, he was on me, his mouth swallowing my moan, and his hand forcing my fingers out of me. He slipped between my legs, his mouth hungry as I cried out his name, latching onto me and drinking from my pussy like it was going to be the last thing he tasted in his whole life.

“Thorn,” I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Thorn, tell me. Please!”

He paid no mind to me. He fucking feasted on my pussy, sucking my clit, licking desperately until I came apart on his tongue. I felt the pressure building, and suddenly there was no way of holding back anymore. With a cry, my pussy squirted on his willing tongue, and he lapped me up, tasting every drop of my arousal. I cried out in shame, but he wouldn’t let me squirm away - he kept fucking drinking.

Once he was sated, he rose above me, his eyes dark and cloudy, as he took in my shaking naked form.

“I need to show you something,” he muttered, and I sat up, still feeling dizzy from my orgasm. “I need you to come with me.”