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Lifting his lashes, he looked for Dona in the mirrors. He blinked, trying to wet his parched lips with his abused tongue. Trying to focus, because he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real.
The mirrors showed an image from the past, a few moments ago. Dona whipping him. She was crying, a sob breaking from her lips at his every scream.
Then it was gone as if it had never been and those shadows were moving again.
Was the quick glimpse reality or illusion? It didn’t matter. Her tears for him caused a different kind of anguish, one that striped him from the inside, lashed his vital organs in truth. Breaking him down in a way even the extremes of physical pain could not.
As she circled the tablet now, he didn’t see any evidence of her distress on her face, but he knew now that reality here changed every moment. He stiffened as she touched his back, but she was touching smooth skin, skin that no longer felt the pain, though the experience was indelibly printed on his mind. His limbs were still trembling from the lingering effects. The tears, discharge from his nose and saliva from the corners of his mouth remaining from the torture made him avoid focusing on his own image.
Dona bent before him, her hair tumbling over her shoulders. He was ashamed for her to see him like this. When he tried to duck his head, she merely caught his chin, lifted it and began to wipe him clean with a soft handkerchief.
“Vain man. Always so vain. Be still. ”
He swallowed, his eyes falling shut. He’d survived her lash, but he didn’t think he could survive her tenderness. He was going to break into a million pieces, just like a mirror, cursing himself seven years times forever. Or perhaps that deed was already well and done.
When she dabbed at his eyes, her voice was soft but merciless as the lash. “Mistress Lauren would have loved you, kept you, but you couldn’t stand that. You had to use her, make her fall in love with you. You had to tell her in every way she’d been a fool, that you’d played with her mind from the first. She’s one of the mirrors. Look into her eyes and see yourself. I wonder what you would say to her if you could see her now, at this very moment?”
* * * * *
He was in a park, standing at the entrance to a small private glade where a woman sat
on a picnic blanket. Her lover was stretched out there as she pushed up his T-shirt, ran an ice cube slowly down his flat, hard stomach, traced the curve of his navel as he trembled. His lean arms, marked with Celtic-styled tattoos, were curved behind his head, the self-restraint at her behest, Nathan was sure. When the woman turned her head, she saw Nathan.
It was Lauren. Her blue eyes freezing, she stood, the ice dropping from her fingers.
Her lover rose beside her, a man with gray intent eyes that shifted between the two of them, taking the situation in at a glance. His expression told Nathan that he knew his history with his Mistress. He underscored that by stepping up to her side. No, even somewhat in front of her, an unmistakably protective motion.
He had tried to love Lauren. In the end, it was safer to believe she was like all the others. Looking at her now, he saw the inner and outer beauty that had always been there. The pure strength of the love she’d given to this man next to her, binding him to her. The face of her lover reciprocated that devotion in spades. He wouldn’t hurt her like Nathan had.
“I never deserved you,” he said hoarsely. “I betrayed you, and all you ever offered me was love. I’m sorry. ”
He wasn’t even sure where the words came from. It was as if the pain Dona had been inflicting on him since he’d come into her care had opened a well inside him that was filled with simple truth. All it took was dipping a bucket into it to offer it to himself. To Lauren.
Dona’s whip snaked through the air, struck. The park, Lauren and her lover exploded in a shower of glass, the mirror shattering outward. He would have ducked his head, but in the air the shards became silver confetti, glittering as they settled on the floor, on Dona’s hair, across the ample tops of her breasts.
In the shards still floating through the air he saw the image of the corpulent woman again. Such a pretty little boy…
Chapter Nine
He closed his eyes. As he did, he became cognizant of the woman beneath him, still trembling. He felt an odd urge to stroke her hair, soothe her. Almost as he had the thought, his hand was free, so he did it tentatively, though the rest of his body remained bound so that all he could do was stroke her hair with the one hand. Moving to the side of her face, he followed the tracks of the tears coming from beneath the blindfold. When he touched her lips stretched around the ball gag, they quivered, but she didn’t make any other movement.
“She endures this every day?”
“Yes. ” Dona stepped over his legs, stood behind him. Daring a gaze into the mirror again, he was relieved to see them in present time. Leaning forward, she propped her elbows on the small of his back, those generous breasts shaped into tempting globes over the edge of the corset. Her pelvis brushed the base of his buttocks, her thighs teasing his testicles.
“I’m going to use your cock now. Because it’s my cock to do with as I please. You’ll move only at my direction, as if it’s attached to me in truth. You’re going to be my strap-on. ”
She straightened, unclipped the belt triple-looped low on her hips, the one that was decorated gypsy fashion with tiny sun discs and moon crescents done in beaten metal that made a sultry chime sound as she moved. It did so now as she removed it, reached under him and double-looped it around his cock and balls. Bringing the remaining ends of the belt up past his hips and around hers, she re-latched it at the flare of her buttocks.
The rotating mirrors gave him the ability to see them at all angles. Now she was pressed to his ass, her thighs in tight and straight between his spread ones. Putting her hands on his hips, she lifted her own, drawing him back with her, moving up, then down, pressing him against the ass of the woman whose lips had tightened, in fear or anticipation he did not know. The blindfold slipped so he could see her eyes, wide and frightened, bright blue like Lauren’s, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as the gargoyles pulled the blindfold completely away and re-secured his hand.
“No. ”
“You have no right to say no. You’re my strap-on cock and you’ll do exactly as that mindless, hungering dick of yours would do. ”
“She’s looking at me. She’s afraid. ”
“You had no compunction about fucking Lauren over, figuratively. Now shut up.
