AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’d never been sorry for taking me. He still wasn’t sorry. Not for one thing he’d done. It had been for his own sadistic pleasure that he’d made me make the choice.
Just as he’d forced me to choose to let him rape me or leave me in the cell forever. Just like he’d forced me to accept the riding crop, the whip, the cane, and everything else he’d ever introduced.
I’d just turned my back on any chance at freedom because he was never letting me go now. He smiled when he saw the realization on my face, and he turned to leave, the door sealing shut with deafening finality.
I had been free and I’d walked right back into my cage. I’d begged and fought to be let in, and the entire time I’d been playing his game exactly the way he wanted it played. I hadn’t convinced him to keep me. He’d always intended on me coming back to him. Just one more damning choice.
What the hell had I done? Was I truly this far gone? No textbook in existence could have prepared me for what I’d experienced.
I sat in the empty cell trying to think if the truth of it made a difference. Would I have come back if I’d been sure this was what he was doing?
The answer remained the same. Yes. No matter how desperately I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him.
But it wasn’t love either. What we shared was deeper than love. It was a mad and unyielding obsession, and it was mutual. And the flames from it would likely kill one of us some day. Probably me. I couldn’t bring myself to care. I’d rather have this intensity with him than a hundred years of mediocrity with another.
I moved to my corner and waited. Minutes later the door opened as I knew it would, as if I’d called out to him with my mind to tell him I was sitting where I was supposed to be. But I knew the truth. His eyes had probably been glued to the video monitors from the moment he’d locked me back in here. He brought in my bathing supplies and fresh clothes.
“I’m on my period.”
I thought he might give me something, instead of making me go around naked, but he smiled and took the vile plain clothing away.
There was a time I would have questioned his smile, but our minds had worked to move in sync, thinking each other’s thoughts before the other had them. It was fitting that I should be reduced to this animalistic state once again. I’d been away too long in freedom, the ability to come and go as I pleased, to have privacy, to have modesty.
Now it was being stripped away from me all at once. But I don’t think he fully understood. He may have believed he knew, but he couldn’t possibly know what he’d unleashed within me. I was only free with him. He was the first person who’d seen me in every state imaginable and still wanted me. I’d never been so bare with anyone else.
I bathed and left my clothing by the door and went to sleep in my corner. It was still daylight I knew, early in the day in fact, but I needed a nap.
As I drifted off, I tried not to think about how time would all bleed together, the unsettling lack of knowledge about what day it was or what time it was, not knowing if the sun was in the sky or if it was the dead of night.
I dreamed of the good cell and the scented candles, the studio and old ballet records, the incense and rows upon rows of books. I dreamed of his face, his hands on my skin, his cock buried deep inside me while my unresisting body accepted each inch of him.
When my period was over, he brought me fresh clothes again. I didn’t try to fight or tempt him. I put them on and waited out my time. I didn’t want to make it four weeks.
Slowly the days were marked off. The chicken noodle soup came three times a day until I couldn’t stand the sight of it, until once again it was the vile punishment it had been intended as.
Finally, the three weeks were up, and he stepped into my cell. My heart thrummed with anticipation. I had sworn to myself I’d never give him any reason to lock me in the cell for three weeks, and I had broken that vow. Now I swore I would never be in the cell for four. I would never disobey or disrespect him again.
Even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t true. I wondered how long it would be before I did something to send me back. I wondered if one day I’d be in the cell so long I’d lose my mind or forget what his face looked like. And I found that the second would be the worse punishment. I could handle being crazy if I could still look at him.
He held the blindfold out, and I stepped forward, allowing him to cover my eyes with the soft black fabric. I wondered if he’d ever let me roam the house freely, if it was something I could eventually earn. I would work up the nerve to ask him that someday, but not today.
Today, I allowed him to lead me out of the cell. My heart rate quickened as I heard the key code being punched in, first at the bad cell, and then at the door he’d brought me to. When he removed the blindfold, I knew this was where I’d find myself today.
The dungeon.
He approached me, but then backed away. Normally he’d done what he wanted, no communication but touch passing between us. He held my gaze, and then he signed.
Strip, slowly.
I’d been his willing toy for so many months, allowing him to play with me however he saw fit. I hadn’t seen myself as an active participant, not until now, when language finally broached our world together.
My fingers shook as I reached for the buttons of my top and undid them, slowly swaying to music I heard only in my head. Music he’d given me that I’d never heard until him. I stood naked, watching, waiting for his next command.
Do you want to be whipped?
The throbbing between my legs intensified as if he’d pushed a button. “Yes, Master.”
I looked down, suddenly shy and unsure. The fucked-up thing was that I did want him to whip me. I wanted him to do with me whatever would please him.
