Mafia Captive (27 page)

Leo didn’t anticipate she’d open her eyes, but he wanted to be sure. She let out a soft, almost begging whimper as he tied the blindfold around her head, but she didn’t seek to remove it.

He gently took one arm and then the other, and looped the rope through the metal, tying her arms so they were stretched over her head in a V. Then he repeated the process with her legs. She was still covered with the blanket. He let her lie like that for a few moments as he carefully stroked her back through the fabric.

“Faith, did you know that a lot of what we call pain is about expectation? When you expect something to hurt a lot, and you tense all your muscles, it hurts more. If you can relax and flow with it, it hurts less. Think of yourself like a stream flowing softly over rocks. The jagged edges of the rocks don’t hurt the water, it just flows.” He allowed his voice to drop an octave as he spoke, becoming softer and less harsh, lulling her into a sense of safety.

The music he’d selected fit well with the imagery he fed into her mind. He spoke quietly about water and flow and relaxing while he let his hands trail over her back, still wrapped in the warm cocoon of the blanket.

He continued to speak as he went to the thermostat to raise it a couple of degrees. As the room warmed, he took the blanket away. She tensed, but not as much as before, so he poured some oil onto his hands to allow his skin to slide more easily against hers.

He started at her neck, then worked down her back and her arms and hands, then her waist, and over her bottom, and legs and feet. He tenderly massaged until each muscle group unclenched in turn, until her body became limp and receptive.

Chapter Seventeen

Faith hadn’t thought it would be possible to relax. After what she’d heard with the other women, and after the first night the way he’d lost control and taken her in such a cold, heartless way… this was different.

He was right about relaxation and pain, and yet, she’d been determined to stay tense, as if it could magically protect her from him. Or maybe she didn’t want him to see the signs of her trusting him again, not after how he’d misused that trust the first time and she’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t give it again. To relax under his touch when he promised pain was shameful.

The blanket caught her off guard, and then the music changed to something more soothing, and… his hands and the massage. She fell into the illusion he’d created. His voice wrapped around her as the blanket had and the music moving through her like the energy that sustained her. His hot breath was on her ear when he leaned in and spoke again.

“Remember you are water.”

His voice was hypnotic velvet. It had the same power as when it was darker and more demonic. She thought back to Catholic school where the nuns had told her the devil came disguised as an angel of light. It was enough to make anybody paranoid because you didn’t just have to worry about the things that were overtly evil and scary, but about the things that appeared innocent and warm and loving.

Like Leo right now. She’d already seen the beast underneath this mask, and yet the spell he cast with his words and touch made her forget.

His hand came down across her bottom, jolting her from the drifting thoughts back into a more visceral moment. The smack stung, but it wasn’t as painful as the first night he’d spanked her when she’d been more tense, when her only thoughts involved how long she might live.

Fear for her life had disappeared, and after Leo’s sacrifice, fears he didn’t care or didn’t understand the damage he could cause or that maybe he
did
understand and wanted to cause it—those fears had left as well. Now it was fear of the unknown and how much pain she might have to endure to be with this man who she shouldn’t love or want to please.

After each strike, he caressed her flesh, soothing her so that her muscles stayed loose and receptive to more pain. Faith jerked against the ropes when a smooth, thin piece of lubricated glass slid inside her pussy. Despite her tension, the penetration wasn’t painful. She’d been tightly clenched—another piece of unconscious self protection. But he’d been prepared for that defense and had chosen something smaller to press inside her.

“That’s it, move with it. I like that. Exactly how my good little whores act.”

Heat crept up her neck and into her face. She hadn’t realized she’d raised and lowered her hips, her body begging for the toy as he moved it inside her in an achingly slow rhythm. The brief pain of the spanking was forgotten as she moved, grateful that he’d switched to something that could feel good and wouldn’t overload her so soon. But he was far from done.

She whimpered in protest when he extracted the toy and resumed the spanking. Her skin heated with each strike, the pain blending with the other sensations: the caresses, the light throbbing that moved from deep inside her skin. At the peak of discomfort—almost enough to beg—he backed off again.

Leo pushed the dildo into her, cold from fresh lubricant. She gripped the edges of the table as he fucked her harder with it this time. The force and momentum were enough that she could come if he’d keep doing it just like this at just this angle. He stopped too soon.

“Please, Master,” she found herself saying. She struggled in the ropes, knowing it was pointless, and a few tears slid down her cheeks.
I’m not ready for more pain.

“Shhhhh.” He stroked her back, and a moment later, another lubricated phallus was inside her. This one larger than the first. Her walls expanded to accept it, and she moved, rocking against the cold toy as he slowly fucked her with it.

But slow wasn’t enough now. Faith struggled and pulled against her bonds, not caring as the rough rope dug into her wrists, tearing at her skin. She needed to push back harder, to force the dildo to be seated more deeply inside her, to fill her.

He pulled it away and she let out a frustrated cry.

“Eager is okay, demanding is not. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

He waited until her pelvis had lowered onto the table, until she was calmly spread out, relaxed and docile, before he slid the toy back inside her again at that sadistically idle pace. Her pussy throbbed against the glass. It would take very little to make her come. If she was patient and calm, then maybe…

“It’s time for a choice,” he said, breaking her concentration. “I can stop everything for the night and we can go upstairs to bed, or I can move on to the paddle and the flogger and let you have your orgasm when I’m finished.”

Normally, Faith’s choice would have been easy.
Stop the pain and scariness, and let’s go to bed.
But he knew her body like a poem he’d memorized. He knew how to play nerve endings in both good and bad ways. It wasn’t a secret how close she was, or how desperate, given the rope burns she would likely wear around her wrists for the next several days.

“Master, please…”

“Choose or I’ll choose for you. Maybe this is all too much too soon. We should go to sleep. Or maybe you should sleep down here alone tonight. It’ll give you some space away from me to think and feel safer.” The honey in his voice was a trap, but it held such possibilities that she couldn’t resist entertaining the new option.

Yes. She could stay here for the night alone and masturbate and take care of this ache he’d caused with the toys he kept fucking her with. She’d have her orgasm and be spared further escalation.

“O-okay,” she said. “W-we should stop.”

“Of course, you’ll wear a chastity belt so you can’t touch that sweet cunt. That’s mine. You don’t get to touch it without my permission ever again.” He chuckled at the shock that must have been on her face. “Did you think your body was still yours to control? It’s
mine
.” The last word he whispered in her ear, his voice animalistic and guttural. “Does that change your answer?”

During all of this he hadn’t let up on his assault of her body. He removed the toy and she almost lost her mind, but then his tongue was on her. She squirmed against his mouth. A few more strokes and she could come.

He backed away seconds before her release. “Well? Alone with your chastity belt, or pain and an orgasm?”

“Please… I need…” If she could manage the self control, she could be spared one more night.

“I know what you need. Answer me. Say the words. I want to hear them fall sweetly from your lips. And say please again. I enjoy how polite you are.”

“P-please, Master, I need to come.”

“So you want to move up to the paddle and the flogger then? A bit more pain?” As he spoke, he pressed two fingers inside her.

“Y-yes, Master, please.”

“I told you I could make you wet when we did this.”

They both knew it wasn’t the pain that caused her arousal, but if he mixed everything up like this often enough, would her brain and body become so jumbled that she wouldn’t know the difference? It was certainly a better outcome than simply
enduring
it to be with him. She thought about the looks of satisfaction and peace on the faces of the women as they left his dungeon, and wondered if that look would soon be on her own face. For the first time, it felt like a real possibility.

He removed his fingers and her heart sank into her stomach, knowing what was coming next. She gripped the edge of the table, bracing herself, but his hand stroked gently over her back. His mouth moved close to her ear. “Water,” he whispered.

She tried to focus on the music and relax as the paddle came down across her bottom. Harder than his hand, but less intimate. She was suddenly a school girl being sent in for discipline. His power over her was absolute.

After a few moments, the tears started rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t know why she was crying. The pain was greater, but she knew he was holding back, his intent not to damage or traumatize her. She cried for everything and nothing, but physical pain was the least of it. She cried for her lost little life that hadn’t been glamorous but had been comfortable. She cried for the things she hadn’t realized were such big holes until she had the facsimile of the thing—family. And love. She cried for the fake engagement she wished meant something, for her love for Leo that she didn’t think he’d ever return, for how low she’d sunk to be so desperate for him after everything—to allow him to do these things to her when he’d given her a chance to take her freedom and go. For the shame of knowing she would allow him to debase her in any way if there was some small chance he might later love her in return.

“Let it out, sweetheart. You need a good cry.” He switched from the paddle to the flogger. She jumped when the leather cords snapped across her back, and immediately her mind went to Leo’s scars, and she tensed again.

He must have guessed where her mental trail was going because he said, “It’s not a bull whip. Relax. I won’t break your skin.”

Water.
The thought stole into her mind, with his voice attached. Though he hadn’t audibly said the word, she knew he must be thinking it. For this moment she felt as if she could read his thoughts, as if some magic now flowed between them and connected them in a way that made telepathy not only possible, but pedestrian.

The sting of the flogger didn’t feel pleasant, but it wasn’t a kind of pain that a person winced and pulled away from. It was a kind of pain you moved closer to, tested and pushed, more curious to experience the sensation without judgment because it wasn’t bad enough to seek to avoid right away. The hypnotic, repetitive strikes created a sense of space around her, a solitude where she could allow the rest of her tears to flow out in safety.

By the time she’d let everything out, things she hadn’t realized she was holding in so emotionally, her back and bottom were warm and almost pleasantly numb. She still didn’t fully understand the appeal—at least not in a sexual way—but it was cathartic. She got that part. And despite the fears that had lurked in her subconscious in a place she hadn’t been able to access them before, now she knew, it wasn’t like the beatings she’d taken as a child, and never could be. Leo wasn’t him.

When she realized the pain wasn’t intensifying or angry, but instead leveled out and faded, she faded with it, flowing along the sensation, allowing it to wrap around her, floating. She didn’t notice when he’d stopped until she felt the coldness of new lubricant on glass. Her body responded more quickly this time to the pleasure, grateful for it, lapping it up—desperate to please him.

He used the wider phallus again and increased the pace, pressing down on her back so she couldn’t rise up. His message was clear: he would be controlling the exact sensations she received. She would come on his terms or not at all. That realization sent an uncharacteristic flutter of something warm and electric through her stomach.

“Please… please… please…”

He stopped and untied her.

“No… please…” She thought untying meant he was done with her. Was he breaking his promise? Only teasing her again?

He chuckled but rolled her onto her back. Having the leather press against her back and bottom, stung, but she took deep breaths until it dissipated.

“Spread your legs,” he growled.

She obeyed the command, thankful and eager to have him touch her more. He fucked her with the toy as he lowered his mouth to her clit, licking and sucking on it until the dual sensations built to the point of explosion.

Faith moaned as she came against his mouth, squirming despite how sensitive her back was. He pulled away from her as her orgasm ebbed. She lay trembling from the force of it until he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

“Lie on your stomach.”

She didn’t have the will to do anything else. He rummaged through the black bag and came out with a salve that he rubbed onto her wrists and gently massaged into her back and bottom. When he was finished, he pulled her into his arms and she lay against his shoulder, sobbing.

She’d thought she’d been done. She didn’t know where more tears had come from, or why. There were too many feelings and emotions to name. She was beginning to see why this appealed to those women, why Leo being like this had appealed to them. The feeling of complete helplessness and fear followed by a rush of endorphins and safety activated some primal code that made no sense to her but worked with the same reliability as the rising and setting of the sun. It was the code that activated bad boy attraction and the desire for the most inappropriate and doomed romance to work.