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Chapter 5
Kassandra
I woke up in a white room, secured to a bed with thick, bulky leather straps. My wrists were bound to the bed down by my hips and despite all my attempts to loosen them, they didn’t budge. The lights were dimmed in what I assumed was some half-assed attempt to mimic nighttime. The walls were a dull cream color and they were padded. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that I had been committed to some sort of insane asylum.
During the day, the lights came on. At least, I thought it was daytime. I no longer had any track of time whatsoever. It didn’t really matter though.
Doctors came and went. Some of them talked about my periods of blindness and deafness, others talked about the possibility of schizophrenia and the fact that I was talking to voices in my head. Others spoke about my visions, several chatted about post-traumatic stress disorder, and one particularly zealous man preached that I was possessed by the devil.
Maybe he was right.
The longer I was imprisoned, the more the visions came. Soon, Markos consumed my every waking thought. Sometimes he would come to me and tell me about how he was going to fuck me, about how I was fated to be his, how he was meeting the demands of an ancient prophecy to make me his and how eventually he was going to rule the world with me at his side. I began to crave his darkness.
He told me once that he had mastered my body and soon, my mind would follow.
I shook my head, trying to force him from my thoughts, but it didn’t work.
Instead, he sat by my side in the padded room and drifted his fingers across my scalp, trailing along the dampness of my sweaty brow. With just his touch, my body reacted violently, exploding with an intense desire that left me breathless and wanting.
“Kassandra, can’t you feel it? Don’t you want me to fuck you again? Don’t you want to feel my seed dripping down your thighs once more?”
As he spoke the words, I could feel my body reacting to every syllable of his voice. It was more powerful than before and without him even touching my sex, I already wanted to come. It was as though his voice was liquid heat and I could do nothing but crave it.
“Markos,” I whispered desperately, ravenous desire boiling in the depths of my belly.
“You know better than to address me in such a manner. Don’t make me take you over my knee and teach you again. I’m sure you’re still sore from my belt and the whip, aren’t you,” he purred, his tone laced with warning. My tummy flipped inside me, panic and desire intermingling in an enticing mixture that left me wanting.
“Yes, Master, I’m sorry,” I replied, lowering my voice demurely as to not anger him. I didn’t want him to punish me, yet my body still smoldered at the threat.
“Good girl,” he mused quietly, and my heart jumped at the notion that I had pleased him. My eyes followed him as he gripped the leather straps in his fingers, pulling them gently through the buckles and freeing me, limb by limb.
When he finished, he had given me my liberty. I was free from my prison.
“Now that I have freed you, my warrior, what are you going to do to do in order to repay me?” he asked, his tone heated with seduction and power. It was intoxicating, and my core tightened with a force I’d never experienced before.
Suddenly, the cotton garments I’d been wearing itched something horribly. They felt too tight, too constraining and I wanted them off immediately. I gripped the stretchy waistband and shucked them down my waist, kicking them off as quickly as I could. I pulled the long-sleeve shirt up and over my head and then I was naked before him. I breathed out slowly with relief. So much better.
It felt right. He smiled with pleasure. I had satisfied him once more.
I laid back on the bed slowly as I spread my legs for him. My body hummed with need and only he could give me what I craved.
“Master, please,” I begged.
“What do you want, Kassandra?” he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I need to come. I need your cock inside me,” I pleaded.
Desire ran rampant inside me and I didn’t even care anymore that it might be real or maybe it wasn’t. He snarled and pressed down on me, his weight on mine and the heat of his cock pressed up against my wet, clenching pussy.
“Does your cunt need its master?” he asked quietly, and I screamed with my arousal.
“Yes. Please,” I replied, sounding forlorn and crazed with lust.
He unbuckled his slacks and I looked on in a haze of passionate, uncontrollable desire. The head of his cock pressed at my slick, needy entrance. I sighed with my excitement.
His heat pressed into me and my pussy gave way. I was unprepared for his girth and my body struggled to accommodate him, but I didn’t care. I took every inch he gave me and more. The wet sounds of our fucking were loud and intense, and I wondered if the doctors watching me could see. In some little demented part of me, I hoped they could. I hoped it made them jealous that I had a master who would take such good care of me.
His hips slapped mine, feral and animalistic, and I knew by the strength of his thrusts that I would feel sore and used for days.
