Unorthodox Therapy (47 page)

“What did Thomas ask in exchange for his sexual services? Did you go with the little suckling to prove you still had it? That you're not getting old? Did he make you feel special and play on your insecurities? I never thought you’d stoop so low, Lina. To make business decisions with your cunt. To debase yourself and allow him to fuck his way up the ladder.”

My chest burned with outrage and I yelled at him.

“Get the hell away from me now. You're fired, Seth. And don't talk about things you don't understand. Get your fucking hands away from me.”

One tear ran down my cheek. I shivered with disgust when Seth wiped it away with his thumb and grinned at me.

“You're not going anywhere.” And then I felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed to my stomach. “Slut.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Lina

The first thought in my mind when I woke up was that someone had brought me back to the dungeon, but when my senses adjusted to the new environment, any mental process was cut short by the mind-numbing pain in the side of my temple. The line of burning fire was spreading through my skull and each pulsation made me writhe. I vaguely remembered Seth's heavy palm landing on my face. It was the last visual I had from the surreal, insane evening before darkness embraced me with its velvet touch.

The sharp ache, numbness and discomfort of being restrained in the same position hadn't allowed me to stay unconscious for too long. I heard my own stifled, muted groan and made a weak attempt at raising my hands. The cold steel of handcuffs dug into the skin of my wrists and ankles.

Blinking was just as painful as trying to move any other body part, as if the bastard had sedated me and deprived me of any willpower. When the world finally came back into focus I realized this was not Thomas's basement at all. It wasn't a place I'd been before. There had never been such a strong stream of light, blinding and white hot. It was piercing my brain, rendering me as helpless as the restraints binding me to the cold metal chair. The harder I tried to fight, the crueler the bite around my limbs.

Speaking was just as futile because of the painful tightness at the back of my throat and the duct tape keeping my lips fully sealed. A stream of warm fluid with a metallic taste was running down the rough fabric of the tape. Perhaps I was slowly losing my mind. For a moment I swore I could hear drops of blood gathering in the valley of my breasts. The sound of each poignant droplet resounded in the space around me. The repetitive rhythm added to my enhanced soreness and pulsing headache as if someone was hammering my skull.

Any other time, logic would have told me that one couldn't possibly hear themselves bleeding against the soft texture of human flesh, at least not so loud. But right then, horror had taken control and spread into the chamber of my mind like cancer.

It was slowly coming down on me through the veil of pain and confusion. He may have kept me in this place for minutes, but it could have been years for all I knew. There were no signs of time passing in the bright cell of white noise, paralyzing pain and fear creeping from the darkest corners of my mind.

I'd never feared light as much as in the instant when reality kicked in. The cold floodlight whipped me straight in the face, but the rest of the place was obscured. What would be worse, staring straight at the source of pain or turning my head to the shadows filled with nightmares? The soft moans of terror coming from beneath my itchy gag resonated in rhythm with the fall of the next drop.

“Our little sleeping beauty finally woke up.” The mocking, rough voice sounded a thousand miles away, but at that point, I was alert enough to make out the huge, looming figure of Seth Anderson. He was standing in the corner of the room and his features were shrouded in darkness. I doubted I could ever mistake his voice, soaked in cruelty and disdain while his heavy palms pinned me down.

He stretched his hand out, and I realized the sound I could hear wasn't my blood. Seth twisted the tap of the sink he was standing next to and the drops of water crashing against the bottom stopped. How long had he been standing there, waiting for me to wake up from the triple effect of discomfort, blinding light and torturous, slow dripping water?

Did it matter, really, when it was probably just foreplay to what the monster was about to do to me?

I looked down to avoid direct contact with the floodlight and nearly fainted again. Not only had he tied my limbs to the armrests and legs of the chair. The creep had also taken off my skirt, blazer and underwear and positioned me in such a way he had a full view of my bare pussy. The only thing protecting me from being on full display was the silk blouse he had left on for an unknown reason. When I tried to move my feet, I realized he had also left my fuck me shoes on.

The horrible possibilities nearly broke my spirit right then. My nipples under the delicate fabric were like in a cold shower. What if this madness affected me on a primal level? I hated him with a passion, but my body and mind were inclined to respond positively to pain, distress and rough domination. Thomas had conditioned me well to be dripping wet when he was cruel to me.

Was this the whole reason for my ‘therapy’? It dawned on me that their plan could have been much bigger than simply my social ruination. They wanted to make me compliant until I accepted I was a submissive.

It all made sense now, and I nearly cried in rage at how foolish I'd been. The sweet, nice guy would use his communication skills to manipulate me into trying kink. Then he would convince me of how submissive I truly was. He'd get me comfortable in my role of ‘pet’ and enhance the experience with the total power exchange scenarios. Shortly after my cruel public humiliation, his evil counterpart would take the stage for my final destruction as a woman and human being. When he was done with me I’d be nothing more than a hollow shell and a mindless slave for their amusement.

That sequence of thoughts was more disturbing than anything either of those sadists could do to me. I replayed in my head all those months when I was laid bare before Thomas's appreciative gaze, revealing my soul and crawling for him. The agony of knowing that my most intense and intimate experiences had been a lie made me wince in mental and physical pain. The careful alternation between tenderness and domination, affection and degradation were part of an even more elaborate scheme.

Seth slowly stepped into the circle of light and stared at me with satisfaction. He was rubbing his chin and looking all over me as though I was a piece of property. The sickness and terror made bile rise in my throat.

Please, please, may my body not betray me right now. I can't let this monster use my body against me.

It would be the ultimate fall if Seth could force me to submit to him. Whatever was left of my grace and dignity would be wiped away. I grabbed the armrests as much as the cuffs allowed and pushed the chair forward in a single violent thrust. He laughed and walked closer to me so I could examine his face.

How could I have missed the look of evil, enhanced by the perpetual dark circles under Seth's eyes? The cold and horror those irises exuded were so clear to see now, but the primal emotions he evoked made me blind to the absence of something else in his gaze. I'd only realize what it was later that evening.

“This is just beautiful,” he uttered with biting sarcasm and moved his hands down to his hips. “I've been waiting for so long to see the great and powerful Lina Riley completely speechless.”

His casual demeanor and slow speech could not help me predict his next action. Seth lurched his hand towards my head and ripped the duct tape off my mouth with a single move. I screamed out at the top of my lungs as a new wave of pain ran through my skin. The corners of my lips burned with the sudden, tearing force.

What would be worse – if he made me cry or cum? For a moment I swore I could feel wetness gathering in my slit. No! How could I feel even a slight thrill of pleasure, knowing who was doing this to me? My old friend, shame, shoved its cruel punch straight at my gut, reinforced and more enhanced than its beta version.

The old guilt of my submission to Thomas was faint next to the mortification I'd experience if Seth pulled me under his sick spell.

“Seth, are you out of your mind?” I could barely recognize myself when I spoke those first words, low and barely there. Pain and terrible thirst scratched the back of my throat and made speaking challenging. “Where am I? What the hell do you want from me?”

He didn’t respond and just kept circling around me, just like Thomas had during our first play session in the dungeon. I sank deeper into the abyss of despair when Seth moved out of my sight. I heard myself screaming, just to cough violently as my voice fell through.

“What do you want? Why… why are you doing this?” Tears were falling down my cheeks and I didn't have the willpower to stop them. His big hands ran over my silk blouse, my last layer of protection. “No, please, don't. Stop it. Don't touch me.”

Seth remained silent, either ignoring me completely or enjoying how I was slowly unraveling. However, his fingers merely brushed the fabric. He never made any attempt to fondle my breasts. I kept shooting questions at him, not giving up. I had to break through the wall of silence. The sound of my own cries and his cruel almost touch made me quiver harder. Seth chuckled and grabbed the garment with two hands, tearing it apart without any effort. He didn't stop and ripped my bra off, too, as if it was a mere piece of paper. The useless lingerie fell to the ground and I was left nearly naked, with shreds of clothes and bleeding dignity.

Seth slapped me cruelly across the face. The previous fire of pain inflamed again and mingled with the new wave. My captor grabbed me by my loose bun and yanked my head back. The insanity in his eyes had blossomed and their whites had nearly turned red. Insomnia, obsession, power hunger, wrath. His fingers squeezed a lock of hair and ripped it from my scalp. The sudden, stinging pain nearly made me black out again. I heard him lean against my ear and whisper with the hissing voice from earlier.

“Don't you dare speak until I say you can, whore.” He moved away and kept studying my face with a cruel smile. “You're not in charge here. The sooner you realize it the better it will be for you.” My hair was still in his firm grasp, making my neck arch painfully. Hadn’t Thomas told me something similar months ago? “Though this isn't the first time this has happened to you, is it? Who would have thought you of all women would want to be dominated and treated like a cheap piece of fuck meat.”

“Seth, I don't understand.” My confusion prevailed in my tortured voice. Tears made me see him blurred, which enhanced the fear he instilled in me. “Why? You never showed you were attracted to me. We didn't even flirt. W-why?”

He raised his eyebrow at my pleas and burst out in sinister laughter, which boomed across the room. Whatever arousal I might have felt earlier was rapidly disappearing, but that didn't bring me much hope. Seth threw me a glare of disgust, as if I were a cockroach that offended him with its existence. He spat hard in my face a few times. At this point, I should have been used to the perpetual humiliation but it just made me cry more. Tears and phlegm were mixing with the spit in a disgraceful mess.

At least he let go of my hair. The back of my neck hit the cold metal of the backrest. It was a miracle that I managed to stay conscious. The floodlight was still burning my eyeballs.

“What makes you think I’m interested in you, stupid bitch? Fuck, you've really devolved, haven't you?” Seth walked to my front and dug his nails across my thighs, leaving rough marks on them. “In the end, you're just like every other low life, a pathetic, dead weight mass driven by basic instinct and urges. You turned into one of those women who think with their genitalia instead of the brain they’ve been blessed with.”

As painful as his words were, they left me blinking and confused. Had Seth completely lost the plot or was I hallucinating?

“Seth–”

“Shut up, whore. Fuck, you disappointed me so much, Lina.” His voice suddenly became sad and genuinely hurt. “I really thought you were different. I believed you were above lust and you weren't an easy, clingy bitch who could be controlled.”

I didn't want his speech to affect me, but he cracked something deep inside me, a fear I’d thought was deeply buried. Had I really turned into what he claimed I was? The desperate need and ache in my pussy, the change in my behavior whenever Thomas was in charge. I'd been fearing the effect domination had on me and was hiding behind the fact I was the one who allowed him and it was all consensual pleasure.

Maybe I really was a whore.

“When we first met I was mesmerized by you.” Seth kept the same sad, broken voice and covered his eyes, shivering while the words poured out of him. “You were a perfectly cut diamond, razor sharp, impeccable, pure. You couldn't be controlled by the chains of conventional relationships. I thought you moved past those primitive needs. You could have been my intellectual match.” He raised his tear-strained face, slapped me hard again and yelled, “Why the fuck did you turn into everything I hate in a woman?”

Seth grabbed me by the jaw and pinned my neck against the steel chair. He spat in my face again and dug his fingers into my skin until I bled.

“I threw up when I saw those pictures. My ideal mind was reduced to a pathetic pig whore who begs to have her holes used – a slave of her own disgusting cravings.” His earlier pain was entirely replaced by murderous rage. “Listening to you... How you crawled before that little wimp, letting him hold you by the leash as if you were a fucking animal. Why, Lina?” His hand moved down to my throat and he squeezed it so hard I saw stars. “Why did you turn into one of those whores? You were meant to be better!”