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“W-what?” Frankie stuttered. Her eyes popped open, her body went tight. Just like that, her viscera coiled back together.
“I said, how loud will you scream for us?” He slapped Frankie across the face and stood up, walking back to the couch.
Anteros grabbed her neck, turning Frankie's head so she looked right into his eyes. “Remember their faces. I am the only thing saving you from them.”
Five
I had been to clubs before. I was twenty and from New Jersey, it’s like a right of passage there. Like a bar mitzvah or Rumspringa, in New Jersey you went to a club. Still, the club scene never really called to me. Maybe it was because back then I was too sick to appreciate it or maybe it was because being sick I never made the right friends for clubs. Either way, I preferred books.
I even preferred reading about clubs to going to them. I’d never said it aloud, but reality never measured up to what was between the pages. In my books, everything was more magical. More beautiful. Reality had a way of always ending up covered in smog and grease. In my books, the water shimmered in the moonlight. When the hero and heroine had their meet cute at a club, his breath didn’t smell of stale beer.
But as the Beast tugged my forearm, dragging me up the steps of some warehouse, I wondered if some places did match up to the books.
Music thrummed.
Lights danced.
This wasn’t just some warehouse.
“What is this place?” I asked, mentally kicking myself for the awe tingeing my voice. Looking at the magic around me, I couldn’t help it. It was like a place from one of my books come to life—the glitter, the lights, the dancing. For a moment, I forgot who I was with.
Then he looked at me and I was immediately reminded. Though he’d left me alone most of the day, he had made sure his absence was felt. It was worse than having him there. I’d been on the bed, minding my own fucking business, when the plug he’d jammed inside me had started to vibrate. It was already uncomfortable enough up inside my asshole without it vibrating.
When he’d first put it inside me I’d contemplated taking it out, but I wasn’t sure I could get it back inside on my own, plus I would have no idea when he was coming back. If he came back and it was out, I knew I’d get some kind of terrible punishment. So I swallowed my pride and turned it into bitter contempt for the Beast. The moment it started to vibrate, though, I seriously regretted my decision.
I clenched my jaw and gripped the sheets, praying it would be over soon. It wasn’t. The vibrating continued, but instead of pain, a familiar warmth in my abdomen spread. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t moan when a vibration racked me with intense shockwaves of pleasure. In the same instant, fear racketed through me, fear that I would come on his sheets, in his bed.
I released my grip on the sheets and scrambled off the bed. The vibration upped in intensity and I doubled over, clutching my abdomen as another intense shockwave ran through me. I gasped, holding off the orgasm like someone nailing wooden boards against a large storm. Terror and determination gathered inside me as I realized I had one of two options: come or take the thing out.
I reached behind me and tugged the fucking thing out of my ass. It slipped out easily and this time I couldn’t hold back the moan, grateful that I was at least alone for that shame. It vibrated like a wasp in my palm as I walked over to the windows and pushed one open.
“Merry Christmas, New York,” I said, throwing it out the window. I sagged into the chair by the window and stayed there for hours, only moving to draw a blanket over myself. I hadn’t orgasmed, but I felt the shame all the same. That shame was like an anchor around my neck. It was hard to breathe, hard to blink even.
If we’re being real here, I was used to shame. Growing up sick, I was nothing short of a burden.
I was a burden on my father.
I was a burden on the school district.
I was a burden on friends (before they wizened up). All I ever was in life was a burden, always needing help with the simplest of tasks. Things others could do easily—like getting out of bed or getting up the stairs—I needed help with.
What I’m trying to say is, I knew shame. I was a shame pro. At least, I thought I had shame down, thought shame couldn’t surprise me anymore, but then the Beast happened and he reinvigorated shame for me.
I stared into the room, thinking about how much I’d enjoyed it. My mind mulled over what had just happened. There was a niggling thought in my head, like a termite burrowing through wood. If I was going to pull it out anyway and get punished, then why hadn’t I just pulled it out at the beginning? Everything throbbed, so as I warred with myself, so did I war with the urge to touch myself, which added another layer of meat to my shame sandwich.
When Beast came back, I hadn’t moved from the chair. He kneeled before me, touched me, spread my legs, and the entire time it was a battle of how much I could take versus how bad his punishment would be. Then as he continued, as his hand moved over my private flesh, it morphed into If I don’t take this then it will all have been for nothing, just like the plug.
But I failed again.
When his fingers pressed against my entrance, a stab of warmth hit my abdomen. He stroked me and that warmth became a lightning bolt of pleasure—so I bolted. I hadn’t planned to throw up on the Beast, but his words settled like rotten meat in my gut. It was a reflex.
When it happened, I’d expected him to hit me or something, some kind of punishment. He was obviously disgusted and maybe stunned, but there was no anger, which just confused me more. Why had he been so angry that first day when I’d simply left the room, but had not even shown irritation when I’d thrown up on him? I couldn’t help but feel like I was missing something. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he’d simply told me to clean up after myself and dress.
I never imagined we’d come someplace like this. It was like a fairytale come to life. Naked women hung from the ceiling, spinning from silk like glittering spiders dancing in the air. All around me hundreds of people danced to the beat, their bodies in sync with the pounding. Just as a smile crept to my lips, Beast brought me back with another look.
The lights dancing across his face, the music pounding around us, was nothing compared to his eyes. A wave of heat coursed through my body, immediately followed by shame. I looked away and he tightened his hold on my arm, dragging me the rest of the way up the steps and around a corner.
