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Eventually, he let me walk him back to the truck. I got in the driver’s side after helping him into the passenger’s seat.
The drive back to my house was mostly silent. Minty blew his nose into some fast food restaurant napkins he had stashed in his glove box, but said nothing more.
I didn’t know what to say either. I was in so far over my head with him, but there was nothing to do now but learn how to tandem swim because I had to keep Minty from going under.
I just didn’t know how.
The answer came to me when we arrived back at the house. After we took off our shoes and jackets, Minty opened the basement door. At first, I almost protested. I was wet and exhausted. He was soaked through and drained. But when he looked at me with desperation in his eyes, I knew that telling him no right then would be the wrong thing to do.
“Take your clothes off,” I said. “Fold them. Kneel for me in the basement.”
Minty nodded and started down the stairs.
I sat on the staircase leading up to my room and breathed in and out slowly. I had to get this right. I couldn’t fuck this up.
This was the most important thing I’d ever done in my life, and I was utterly unprepared for it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
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Minty
“Your safe wordis poodle,” Luke said, as he slid his fingers into my hair and tightened them into a fist. “If your mouth is occupied, snap your fingers as a safe word.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whispered. It was the first thing I’d said since Luke put me back in the cab of my truck, soaked through from the rain.
I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I’d been thinking about what I needed for the whole drive home. I had to get out of my skin, out of my mind, and I needed Luke to help me do that. The lure of Kyle, with his relentless brutality, called to me. But I knew if I left, if I went to Kyle, I’d egg him on to the point that he might actually kill me.
If it was even a little bit true that Luke still loved me, even though I was a disgusting monster, then I wanted to live. I wanted to find out what we could have together. I just needed to get out of my head right now. Some X would help. Some pot, alcohol, or GHB would take the edge of emotion off too. But, barring those aids, pain was the only thing that could satisfy my need to escape my self-loathing.
In fact, pain might be the best of all options. If I were screaming under Luke’s whips, I’d be freeandgetting just what I deserved.
“Come here,” Luke said, guiding me up from my knees with his hand in my hair.
His voice was calm. There was no arousal in it, no desire or heat. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t hard either. He pulled me in to his embrace, and I held myself tightly. His sweater brushed the front of my naked chest. The fly of his jeans rubbed roughly against my stomach and flaccid dick.
I went on my tiptoes to hook my chin on his shoulder. We breathed together. He bent to kiss the side of my neck, and then pushed me away. “Get on the horse.”
That’s what Luke called the wood and leather contraption that consisted of a central piece of wood that held my upper body, an open-hole face cushion like I’d seen on massage tables on TV, and four additional leather supports that held my elbows and knees. Once on the “horse,” I was essentially on all-fours mid-air, with my ass on display in the perfect position for spanking or fucking. There were straps and buckles that held me in place around the middle and secured my arms and legs.
I’d “ridden” it only once before, last month after a night of teasing. He’d used a crop on me then, an intense but fun experience.
I didn’t think there was any power on earth that could turn this nightfun, but that wasn’t what I needed anyway. What I needed was a way to scoop the memories from my mind, to rend the horrible, hollow, disgusting feeling from my body, to scrape me clean inside and out.
But there was no way to do that either.
The closest thing would be a scourge of mind-numbing pain.
“That’s a good boy,” Luke murmured as he finished buckling me onto the horse so I couldn’t move. I wanted to protest his praise, but I kept my mouth closed. I was here to suffer, wasn’t I? So, I’d suffer his praise too. I’d let his words of love break me apart.
My face pressed into the leather donut of the head support as I stared at the smooth, gray concrete beneath me. My mouth wasclamped shut against the shame that threatened to come out in the form of vomit.
Luke gripped and released my ass cheeks, felt along my back and thighs, and then his touch was gone. The sound of his footsteps led off to where the wall of implements would provide him with a tool to hurt me.
As he lingered making a choice, I broke into a cold sweat. Dread and anticipation pooled in my gut. I tested the restraints and they held firm.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t escape. I was trapped—no way to fight back, no way to run. This was what I’d wanted, what I’d needed, but now that I was stuck here, I wondered if the chaos of being beaten up by Kyle wasn’t less scary. If only because I could push back, resist from time to time, suck his cock despite how much he hated it, make him come like a volcano, take control. Become a god.
