Breaking Beth Page 3
“Do you need me to prompt you?” The man’s ice blue eyes glinted just before the pain hit. A shorter burst than before, but it felt worse on her stomach. She could taste blood in her mouth as awareness returned. One side of her tongue ached as she whimpered and tried to blink the tears from her eyes to read.
Just get it over with.
“I will crawl when told to follow. I will ask permission to speak, to ask a question, to—”
The man’s smile widened as he dragged the dangerous metal across her lower belly, and then he adjusted his hold on the controls and pressed the tips against her folds.
“Oh, God, no, no! It says orgasm, it says ask permission to orgasm!” Beth tried to pull away from the prod, heels digging into the mattress, hands pulling on the ropes, but she couldn’t move more than an inch, and that inch was painful. Pulse pounding in the blood trapped in her feet. It didn’t matter anyway, he continued stroking her with the fucking cattle prod, grazing her clit, but there was no pleasure. There would be no pleasure here, and she knew that. His eyes were empty. Two hollow, icy caves. “Do you honestly think I’ll orgasm?”
“It happens sometimes.” The flippant response was just a confirmation, as if orgasms happened on accident. As if she might stumble into one and have to apologize. He’s psychotic. “It will be extraordinarily painful if I pull the trigger right now, slut.”
Her fear ratcheted up another notch, and she scrambled to speak, “I— I will wear no clothing, unless you provide it.”
“That’s right, although that one is more for whomever I sell you to. If you could find clothes in this house, I’d be quite impressed.” He removed the prod from between her legs and she sagged against the mattress in relief... until he brushed it across a nipple. Poking at the tightening bud with one of the prongs. She felt frozen as she watched, breath held in her lungs. A tsk’ing sound left him, but she opened her mouth too late.
The bright flash nearly blinded her, so close to her face as she snapped back from the wash of agony. Crying, screaming, cursing, she tried to blink away the multi-colored blotches in her vision.
“Slave, I will put the cattle prod away as soon as you read the last two rules.”
Four
Anthony
The girl had read the final two lines of the poster at such a panicked pace that he couldn’t help but be a little proud of how quickly she’d come around.
Cattle prods could do that though… when it came to slaves electricity was always effective.
Red blotches bloomed on her skin from the places he’d struck, but they would heal quickly. Never helpful to mar the merchandise. The customers wanted to watch because she was pretty. One of them would buy her because they liked to look at her. Ruining that for his own fun would be pointless.
She was crying quietly on the bed, cursing under her breath. Likely cursing him.
Not like he cared.
The glare she’d given him after he’d shocked her other breast promised that the fire wasn’t out inside her. Yet. But he had wanted to even out the color on her small chest. To make them match, and to hear her scream again, because this one screamed so prettily.
As he replaced the cattle prod on the wall, he contemplated hurting her for breaking the second to last rule: You will thank your Master for all punishments.
But... it hadn’t truly been a punishment. More of a painful educational session. And he was always honest with the slaves about his expectations, and the consequences for disobeying. There were other ways of making her suffer tonight anyway.
The heavy strain of his cock was uncomfortably distracting now, and that meant it was time to reward his patience and give her a different kind of lesson.
Returning to the bed he appreciated how she flinched, already associating his presence with pain. Which was exactly as it should be. She needed to accept who was in charge, accept who held all the power, and the next step of their first evening together would illustrate that perfectly.
Anthony sat down beside her again, tracing the welt near her hipbone. Her eyes were squeezed tight, possibly trying to ignore his touch, possibly trying to obey the last rule: You will keep your eyes down at all times unless directed. But he liked the way her brown eyes glistened with tears, and that meant he wanted them open.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and she obeyed instantly. Eyelids snapping open as she panted, pulse flickering in her neck just below the collar. “Good.”
“I can’t… I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“You’d be surprised what you’re capable of surviving.” His words sounded comforting to his own ears, but her chest jerked with a sob that she managed to suppress. Such a pretty sight, tear-streaked and tied down. Moving his hand lower he brushed between her thighs and she whined, eyes clenched tight again. “Eyes,” he corrected, and they opened.
Obedience was its own drug, but the fix wasn’t enough.
There was strength in her she wasn’t even aware of yet, a challenge for him to push against, to see just how much she could take before she broke and was no longer interesting.
Dragging his middle finger between her folds he watched her face, fear making her shake. Her cunt wasn’t wet, which was slightly disappointing, but perhaps she didn’t respond well to electricity.
There were other things to try. Tomorrow.
Pushing his finger inside her brought the sweetest sound from her lips. Desolate and resigned. Another piece of her hope dying right before his eyes.
It was going to be wonderful to chip away even more of it as he fucked her.
Removing his hand, he stood and took off his belt, the swish of the shiny leather leaving his belt loops made her cry again. “Please, no…” she whispered, and he almost groaned.
He did enjoy this part. They were never quite as timorous after the first time, because they knew what it felt like to be violated.
This would be special. Memorable.
Dropping the belt in the chair, he moved it aside so he could put a knee on the bed between her spread legs. She pulled against the ropes as he climbed up, angling his body over hers so she could recognize the futility of her efforts. “You do look lovely when you cry and scream. I think it will make you quite popular.”
She didn’t respond, jaw clenched tight, breath shuddering in and out of her nose, but her quiet defiance wouldn’t last long.
Sitting up, he opened the button on his slacks, lowering the zipper before he pushed it all out of the way so he could grasp his cock. Her whimper was perfectly timed with the first stroke of his fingers over the sensitive head, like she was teasing him. “You’re not wet, but I’m feeling gracious after your efforts with the rules… so, I’ll make you a deal.”
Leaning forward he braced one hand beside her ribs, brushing his other against her cheek. She jerked her head away, but he only smiled.
“I’ll let you spit into my hand, but that will be the only lubricant you’ll get.” Offering his hand, he watched as she glanced at it and then met his gaze again.
“Go to hell,” she hissed, punctuating the damnation by spitting into his face. Barely a spray, which wouldn’t have made what was coming next any easier, but it couldn’t go unanswered.
“You’re really going to regret that.” Anthony sat up and slapped her, her gasp dissolving into angry tears as she yanked at her wrists and bucked her hips off the bed. A fighter. His cock pulsed, and he felt the urge to take her amplifying. It was as much a lesson in power at this point as it was to sate his own needs.
The girl wasn’t aroused, and as he wiped his face clean of her spittle and stroked his cock with the meager offering she’d made, he knew this would be uncomfortable for both of them at first, but he was willing to deal with it.
Sacrifices must be made.
Lowering his hips between her spread thighs, he lined up with her cunt and thrust hard. He groaned, she yelped. It burned a little, physical sensation skittering across his nerves as he drew back and forced himself further in, feelin
g her body yield under his strength. There was no stopping this. It had been inevitable since her name had appeared on their list. This was just the glorious culmination of their careful planning. The reward.
Anthony thrust again, opening her up until his balls rested against her ass and she let out a keening whine, eyes focused somewhere in the middle-distance above them. Every muscle in his body tensed as he drew back and plunged forward, fucking her without regard for the restraints tethering her to the frame of the bed. There was no give to those ropes, which made each of his thrusts punctuate in a deliciously hard stop.
Again and again.
She was either wet now, or bleeding, but it was inconsequential because it eased his movements. Her body tightened, gripped him, tried to force him out… and it felt good. Amplified his sensations, waking up his nerves with physical pleasure. This was the closest to human he ever felt. Reaching for an orgasm. Warm, soft flesh pinned beneath his hard body.
She just didn’t appreciate it.
Slaves always became still at this point. Some sort of primordial instinct in their brain taking over, reminding them that submission was the only option when a predator had them pinned. The same ancient force that demanded he fuck her just a little harder, not holding back, just to cement that knowledge in her mind.
Weak versus strong. Female versus male. There was only ever one victor.
Heat thawed his cold self-control as he moved inside her, reveling in the pained sounds slipping from her lips. Pleasure in all its chemical glory flooded his veins, fingers wrapping under her shoulders to dig into the delicate flesh that held such promise. In the coming days he would bring her such sweet agony, he would make her scream until her throat was raw, and then he’d fuck it just to remind her of her place.
This place.
Deep, hard thrusts sent tremors up his spine, making his bones as tight as her cunt felt. There was nothing quite like this, the delirious feeling of complete power over another human being. Next time he’d leave her arms free so she could try to scratch, to fight him off, and then he’d hold her down and destroy her just a little more. Prove to her that the ropes were merely convenience, not a deciding factor.
Even if she’d been free to run from him in the house, he would have caught her, hurt her, forced her to the ground so he could take what he wanted. Like this. Like property.
This was almost as sweet as her screams.
His pleasure in her pain. Slick cunt hot and clenching tight. His mind was blurring, fuzzing — his orgasm close — but he wanted this to last just another few moments.
Capturing her chin, he forced her to look at him.
Pure desolation. Bleak, brown eyes met his as he thrust hard enough that his own hips felt the bruises he left. She was crying silently, fat tears rolling from the corners of her eyes into that California blonde hair that his customers had begged for.
Just a little more.
Take just a little more from her.
“You’re never getting free,” he whispered, their lips almost touching. Close enough to be lovers in some alternate universe. “Ever.”
She squeezed him tight as a fist as her body contorted, the agonized cry in her voice better than any moan as he took her. Forcing himself deep just as the fire she’d kindled boiled over and left his balls in pulses that turned his vision white.
His hand had slipped to her throat as he’d come, gripping hard, and the desperate gape of her mouth was a lovely thing to see. Instead of letting her breathe, he settled himself between her hips, ensuring she felt the warmth seeping around his buried cock. “You’re nothing but a set of holes, slave. Nod for me so I know you understand.”
Chest jerking with her urge for oxygen, she finally bent her head in a perfunctory nod and he released her throat. The coughs as she tried to rip air back into her lungs made her body squeeze him inside her, a pleasant follow-up to his release. He reminded himself to enjoy it, to revel in every desperate, inarticulate sound leaving her lips. Wordless suffering that had nothing to do with his softening cock still buried deep. That pain was over and done with. This? This was all her. Her mind, her fear, her hope dying just a little further.
Tracing her lip with his thumb, he held her chin in place so she couldn’t pull away. There was nothing quite as good as this fleeting moment, the moment they realized they were lost, and as he slid free and looked down between them he felt a smile move over his lips.
“It’s okay, slut, you’re supposed to bleed the first time.”
Five
Beth
The sound of the shower kicking on made Beth twitch against the sheets, opening her eyes just enough to confirm that he wasn’t still standing by the bed.
He was gone.
Oh God…
Everything hurt. Wrists and ankles stung under the coarse rope. The lingering aches of the cattle prod pulsed — but none of it could match the dull, throbbing pain between her legs. At first it had been agonizingly sharp, a burning tear as he’d sawed his way inside her… and then it had faded. Or she had simply adjusted, numbed to it, detached as he’d used her.
If only she could ignore the warmth seeping from inside her. Block out the way the air cooled the wetness on her thighs, the drip of it moving down over her ass into the flat sheet on the bed.
Did I really bleed?
She was tempted to lift her head, to look and verify his claim, but she didn’t want to know. In this case, ignorance truly was bliss. Unfortunately, there was no denying that he’d come inside her. He had been sure to make her feel that, even as he’d choked her, and now she could feel it leaking out of her.
A whimper clawed its way up her throat, escaping through clenched teeth, and she uselessly pulled at the ropes, waking up the stinging burns that confirmed she’d broken skin in her struggles. All she wanted was to curl up in a ball, close her eyes, and go to sleep. Forget about every word he’d spoken, every fucked-up rule he’d made her recite — but he wouldn’t even allow her that. Still spread wide, vulnerable in her pain for the cameras that she could now see winking at the corners of the room. One shiny glass eye directly above, looking straight down at her. Staring into it, she wondered who was watching this.
What kind of person could watch this and enjoy it?
‘The ones that he wants to sell you to.’ Her mind’s answer was spectacularly unhelpful, and she cursed aloud and internally as she tried to pull one hand, and then the other, through the ropes. Too tight, it was only making her hands hurt, her thumbs aching as she tried to squeeze them past the loops.
Useless.
It was all so useless, but she refused to give in. Refused to just fall into this sick game of his. No. She wouldn’t be one of those women who succumbed to their captor like in Beauty and the Beast. Some version of Stockholm syndrome on fairy-tale boosted steroids. He wasn’t a prince. There was nothing good in him. This asshole was nothing but violence and cold psychosis, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of bending her to his rules. He’d already shown her that giving in brought nothing but more pain, more torment. Maybe if she fought it hard enough, he’d even give up. Let her go.
Fool.
That was a slim chance. A stupid idea to even plant in her head… but if he really planned to bring others here, more people to do what he had done, wouldn’t death be better?
Maybe… but someone might have seen her being taken. There could be people looking for her right now, police tracking down whatever car he’d used to bring her here. Her family would report her missing for sure. It was a shred of hope. She just had to be strong.
The sound of the shower cut off and her heartbeat filled the silence, pounding in her ears as she strained to listen to the movements of him in the bathroom. The quiet clap of the shower door, the subtle scrape of a towel over skin — so much to be heard when she held her breath in her lungs.
Her body jerked involuntarily as something dropped inside the bathroom. A clatter of noise that sent a fresh rush of adrenaline through
her veins, making her lungs tight, her heart rate skyrocketing.
It was still a few more minutes before he appeared. Back in his suit, even his shining belt returned to his waist.
When had he picked up the jacket and belt?
His eyes moved over her without any sort of emotion. Ice blue, and she hated that on the outside he seemed attractive. Fine features, a tall and athletic frame. But there was nothing inside him. He was a wasteland, and he wanted to drag her down with him. Hollow her out just like him.
“I will release you if you promise not to be stupid.” Even his voice was cold and empty. Unfeeling. There was no chance she could reach whatever dregs of humanity remained inside him — if there had ever been any at all.
“Okay,” she muttered, but he only tilted his head.
“Did you forget the rules?” he asked.
I will never call you Master. The words threatened to leave her lips, a vehement anger suffusing every inch of her body, but she bit down. Stayed silent as she glared at him from the bed.
He moved closer, one casual step after another, as if the time meant nothing to him. “Would you like to take a shower?”
Yes. More than anything she wanted to stand under scalding water, to erase his touch from her skin, the texture of him between her thighs, but she wouldn’t give in. Couldn’t. If she gave him this, what more would he want? When would it ever stop? She knew without asking further questions that his plans for her were nothing less than total obedience. He wanted her to respond to his fucked-up list of rules, to follow them blindly.
Beth decided then that she would be a grave disappointment.
The man moved closer and she flinched as he leaned against the bed and ran his hand up the inside of her thigh. When two of his fingers slipped through the wet folds of her sex, she tensed, locked up — it was impossible to avoid her reaction. Pain spiked inside her. Definitely torn. Bleeding. She didn’t even need his confirmation.