The Dove & the Darkness (Ceasefire Series book 5) Page 9

  Cassandra hasn’t said a word. Crying in silence, she’s sat watching for the last twenty minutes as I’ve brutally maimed and mutilated. Subdued she seems to have mentally curled into herself. Tried to escape what she’s being forced to watch.

  “Close your eyes,” I order, knowing I can no longer bear it. I hadn’t been able to refuse her request. She’s seen the horror of my features. The disfigurement received when subduing my brother after he killed my wife. A permanent reminder of my failure.

  I’ve shown her the darkness inside me. What I am. The terror in her eyes is killing me. I never wanted her to see this. Women have been down here before, and their crying has left me unaffected. My Dove is different. I shouldn’t care about the tears she’s shedding, but I do.

  “Why?” The whisper is hoarse.

  “Just do it.”

  Dazedly she continues to stare unblinking. Why should she trust me, after all? I’ve been murdering someone in front of her. Snuffing out a life.

  I swore to myself this wouldn’t break her. She’s strong. And if I’m wrong? If I permanently damaged her? I’ll put her back together piece by fragmented piece.

  Releasing a breath through my teeth, I strived for a calm I don’t feel. Scaring her any more than she is already won’t make me feel better. The girl is shattering before my eyes. Breaking. And it’s something I realize I don’t wish to see.

  “Trust me, Cassandra. It’s ok.” I tell her, unable to keep the plea from my tone. There is no going back now. This can’t stop.

  A look of resignation settles over her features. The light within her has diminished. Becoming faint and distant. Eyelids fluttering shut, she bows her head, her messy long dark hair covering her face. Shoulders tense, it’s as if she’s waiting for me to finish her off instead of the man I have bound to the table.

  Unstrapping the male, I reach for a knife. Gripping the bloodied hair hard, I yanked his head up. Wasting no time, the slash of my blade opens up the captive’s neck.

  18

  Cassandra

  Hugging my knees to my chest, I listen to the screams and cries beyond the confines of my cell. Soren brought me back here in silence. Confused and scared, I no longer know what to think. He asked me to trust him. His conflicting actions and words just jumble me up. Seeing him torture someone has left me shaken. Visions swim through my head merging with my unsettled thoughts. I float for a while between my reality and one’s that aren’t.

  Why isn’t Master here? I need his presence to ground me. I’m used to him taking care of me after every session out of my room, so why did he abandon me now?

  I’m not expecting the sound of the bolts being drawn back. Instead of the familiar skeleton mask I’ve grown used to, two men stare at me from the open door.

  “The Warden wants to see you,” One of them announces without an ounce of emotion.

  I stare up at them in fear. Where’s Master Soren? Legs unmoving, I try to process what’s happening. Who’s the Warden? What does this mean?

  When I don’t respond, the guards close in on either side of me. I’m yanked to my feet, my squeal of pain ignored. Hands forced behind my back, handcuffs close over my wrists. I cry out at the sudden strain in my arms, the metal biting into my skin.

  “No, please.” My strangled plea comes out in a whisper.

  I’m dragged from the cell, my bare feet scraping the stone floor while I struggle. I’m marched through the labyrinth of corridors, metal doors stretching out either side. We enter a room I don’t recognize. It’s wide and spacious. A hall. A crowd is gathered. All men. I glance wildly around hoping to see my Master, my whole body shaking. Soren is nowhere in sight. My heartbeat pounds inside my chest. Whatever this is, part of me screams for his familiar presence.

  A woman stands staring at me with a formidable gaze. Eyes as red as blood, they hold no kindness. Silvery hair in a bob reaches her slender shoulders. Her face is coldly beautiful. The black leather dress she’s wearing clings to her body, making it skin-tight. Stiletto heels match the color of her crimson irises.

  I’m dropped to my knees before her. Dread steals my voice. An inner instinct warning me of danger.

  “So, this is the slut Master Soren is training.” Her mouth stretches in a malicious grin. “I think it’s time I help it along a little.”

  Fisting my hair, she spins me around to face her audience. They watch me with hungry eyes, leering and shouting obscenities. Tears forming in my own, I’m dragged up to my feet, the woman pressing her front into my back.

  Bringing her arm around my stomach, a hand snakes down my abdomen. “Look at this dirty little cunt. I bet we can get it nice and soaked.”

  Her other hand cups one of my breasts offering it up for the watching males. I draw in a shallow breath, my nipple twisted cruelly by the warden.

  Embarrassed and mortified, I keep my gaze fixed on the floor. I’m terrified at the thought of what she might do to me, but I can’t deny the insidious stab of arousal.

  Gliding her palm downward, it settles on my hairless mound, her fingertips brushing my pussy in a feather light touch. “I have the power to do anything I want to you, little girl, and no one here can stop me. In fact, they're all happy to participate.”

  My legs shake, and I can’t hold in my whimper.

  She withdraws her hand so quickly I flinch in reaction. “Lock her in the pillory.”

  My attention falls on the wooden framework with holes for a head and hands. It reminds me of medieval stocks. The heavy wooden arm is left open waiting for a victim. Dragged toward it by the two burly guards, my strength is nothing against their own. My head is forced into the neck groove. I’m still anxious about hurting myself. There’s no choice but to comply. When I’m bent at the waist, my arms are raised roughly to the groves. The guards lower the bar with a thud, my heart hammering when I hear the padlocks on both sides being closed. I’m completely at their mercy. Every part of me available for them to use and abuse. There’s nothing I can do to stop them.

  My neck juts uncomfortably, my hair a dark messy curtain around my face. Panic smothering me, I search for the skeletal mask of Soren a second time. There’s still no sign of him. Does he know this is happening? Has he left me to this fate? A new depraved punishment?

  “Helpless.” The Warden chuckles in glee, strolling up to pinch both my nipples. Struggling, my elbows hang slightly below my wrists. Letting my arms dangle naturally only creates discomfort at my wrists. With a vicious kick, she sets my feet hip distance apart.

  I’m acutely aware of everyone staring at my naked body.

  “What’s the matter, slut? Embarrassed?” she hisses in my ear. “You’ll soon get used to being the center of attention. We can do anything we like to you here. Humiliate you. Dominate you.”

  The males around us unzip the front of their slacks working their cocks with their hands groaning and moaning. All I can do is stand there trapped and quivering. All the cruelty and pain I’d seen master inflict on the other prisoner could be acted out on me. They could defile me. Fuck me. Beat me.

  “Mistress Kalia, Master Soren won’t approve of this.” A tall, red headed male speaks up in disapproval. Arms crossed over his lean chest, he’s the only one not touching himself intimately. Lucien. I remember him from the hallways when he’d caressed my bottom in front of Master.

  “The men need to let off steam.” Her voice is hard and unforgiving in answer. “I am the supreme authority here, Lucien. Not Soren, and I don’t care what he thinks.”

  Lucien’s blue eyes flicker before he concedes with a sharp nod. Turning on his heels, he leaves the room without a backward glance.

  A stinging slap on my ass has me yelping.

  “She’s been taught oral sex. Let’s see her put it into practice. Make a line. I want her face thoroughly fucked.”

  I hear eager footfalls approaching. A queue forms on the platform bringing their hard and ready cocks level with my face. Imprisoned as I am bent over at the waist, there’s no way t
o turn away.

  Kalia bunches my hair up into a tight fist on top of my head. “You’ll suck every man off here, and if you don’t obey, I’ll take my whip to your arse.”

  The first man pries my jaws open, guiding the tip of his erection between my lips. With no other choice, I allow the cock into my mouth. Precum meets my tongue in a salty tang. Eyes snapping shut, I try to relax while he pushes to the back of my throat. All of Master Soren’s training helps me take the length without choking.

  Fingers tighten painfully in my hair. “Open your eyes, slut. You’ll look every one of them in the eyes while pleasuring them.”

  The man leers at me as my gaze locks with his. Thrusting deeper, he grunts, my nose hits the wiry dark hair at his groin. It takes everything in me not to gag. Pumping fast and jerkily a few times his cock slips from my mouth. Drawing in a quick breath, he pushes the tip inside again. He continues fucking my mouth until he tenses.

  “I’m cumming,” he announces gruffly.

  “Drink every drop,” Kalia mutters menacingly.

  I’m forced to swallow as his semen shoots down my throat over and over in a hot stream.

  As he pulls out, another male is waiting to take his place. I don’t even have a chance breath before he’s taking up where the first left off. This time I gag, his size bigger and thicker. Gripping the sides of my head with his hands, he uses me like a toy. With short strokes, he builds an aggressive rhythm. I splutter and choke, but no one takes any notice. When his hips start an erratic pace, I can tell he’s close. Hot streams of cum suddenly meet my tongue. Shame fills me. Everyone around me is getting off on the rough humiliation. What will they do to me next? The thought is paralyzing.

  It’s a blur how many men I take. Some pull out blowing their loads over my cheeks and mouth. The taste of their seed is something I can’t get rid of. Flashes of their lives play in my head. I fear the depths they sink me to in the visions. There’s nowhere to go but slip into the madness. The presence scratching at the edges of my mind stirs.

  Cassandra.

  The faint soft voice locks my aching limbs. It takes everything I have to focus on the world around me and not let it seep in through the cracks. Into my thoughts.

  “You want this.” Kalia’s delighted hum has the tears I’ve been fighting against falling. “Just look at how eagerly you accept them.”

  I don’t. It’s a lie. This isn’t arousing me in any way. Not like when Master Soren touches me. I suck in a sharp breath sobbing uncontrollably when there’s a lull in the males.

  “The bitch better not bite my dick off with all that blubbering.”

  The words have my awareness jumping up to the blue-haired man. Skinny framed, the points of his ears poke out from the messy bright hair. He’s not like the others. A pixie or elf at a guess. I search his expression for any signs of warmth but find none.

  Mistress Kalia tuts. “Would it really be a loss if she did Jasper? It’s not like you have much anyway.”

  Jasper reddens at her insult. Clutching one side of my face he feeds his length past my lips. He takes out his anger on my mouth. Groaning loudly, he thrusts into my throat in a punishing pace. Sneering at me, his fingers dig cruelly into the sides of my aching jaw as he takes control. Gagging, tears stream down my cheeks. It feels like forever before he reaches his peak. When he finally slides out, it's to fist his length and pump it until he sprays his cum over my chin. Giving me a wink, he steps clear, tucking himself away in his slacks.

  “An angry heart riding on a stream of pain,” I whisper, the visions swelling. “You’ll be the ones who become his prey.”

  Heels click on the floor, circling around from behind me. When Kalia comes into view, she surveys me with a look of satisfaction.

  “Breath a word of this to Master Soren and I’ll cut your pretty eyes out,” she warns before turning to her cronies. “Hose her down then take her back to her cell. Next time you bring her to me, we’ll see how many cocks that tight young cunt of hers can take.”

  The wooden arm is lifted, freeing my arms and neck. Straightening up stiffly, I’m overwhelmed with dizziness. Rough hands steady me when I stagger. Before I can get my bearings, a blast of frigid water hits me right in the face. Throwing up my hands to protect myself, there’s no way to prevent the cold stream. The force throws me into the wall behind me. Moving in a path, it trails over my belly hitting my pussy in an icy blast.

  19

  Soren

  I push deeper, faster.

  Fingernails claw my skin. The smaller body beneath my own trembles in pain and longing.

  Driving harder, I take her. Fill her. Thrusting, plunging.

  Skin slapping, heated flesh drips with sweat as I groan.

  Soft whimpers and moans are music to my ears. I hear her pleas. The sweet way she begs. Pleasure has her writhing beneath me.

  Her inner walls clench around my cock, sucking me back in every time I pull out.

  I feel her soul deep. A fire burning through my flesh. My bones.

  Rhythm quickening, I claim her more.

  Jerking awake, it’s only then I realize I’ve made a mess of my sheets. Sticky and cum covered, I use the end of one to wipe my groin clean. I haven’t had an accident like that since I was a boy.

  It leaves confusion in its wake.

  My Dove permeates my thoughts. My every waking moment. I’ve lived on melancholy, longing and fantasies of this Oracle for so long. I was snared long before Lucifer destroyed what was left of my family along with my bloodline.

  I’ve watched the girl bloom from a child to a woman. Agonized for a fortuitous moment to make myself known to her. Idolized her from afar and because of fate, I’ve smashed her down from the pedestal I’ve held her on for so long.

  I want her.

  She’s the only thing keeping the hungry emptiness, which has been eating away at me for centuries, back. It’s something I can no longer ignore.

  She is not my lost love. This girl is pale in comparison to my dead wife, yet I can’t find a way to end this obsession I have for her. Now she’s here, I’m no longer certain I can let her go.

  I need to find some calmness, some balance. Watching Cassandra break apart yesterday was more than I could bear. It tore me to pieces. As her strength and defiance crumbled in on itself, something inside me mangled and crushed too.

  Climbing from the mattress, I strip the sheets, wadding them into a ball and leaving them in the hamper.

  A restlessness has me pacing my room.

  I made a pledge. A promise to myself that I’d fix what I’ve done. Build her back-up and restore what was taken. Instead of staying with Cassandra, I left her in her cell.

  My gaze bounces to the glass bottle on my desk. The luminous green liquid tempting me across the distance. A vial of bliss, reaped from Cassandra. One taste and I’d experience every pleasurable sensation of her orgasm I bottled greedily for myself. Not tonight. I won’t waste it on a whim.

  Showering and dressing quickly, I stalk to the next room, snatching up my skeleton mask, pulling it over my face before gathering a few things on my way out.

  I swore to my niece, Miranda, that I’d bring books and her daughter a gift. Denying I’m using them as an excuse is futile. At least it doesn’t look like I’m going directly to the object of my fixation.

  The hallways are hushed when I stride down them. Only the odd moan or cry issues from the cells as I pass them.

  Rapping my knuckles softly against the door in my usual pattern, I announce my arrival. Kneeling on one knee, I slid the bolts away from the little metal hatch.

  “I brought you those books and the present for Jellybean. I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I’ve been…busy,” I apologize in a hush, knowing the child is probably asleep by now.

  Feet shuffle closer to the other side of the door. “Something’s bothering you.”

  “The girl…the new prisoner. She…vexes me.”

  “Why?”

  “I desire her more than I shoul
d,” I confess not sure why I’m betraying myself like this and at the same time needing someone to talk to.

  Miranda’s hand appears through the hole, taking the items I lay out one by one. The books, fresh fruit, the pink haired princess doll. “You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”

  Sliding down to seat myself on the floor with a growing sense of confusion, I sigh.

  “She mixes up what I feel inside.”

  “And you don’t like it?” my niece points out shrewdly in a slight echoey hiss.

  “She blurs lines that are not supposed to be obscured.”

  “Then maybe you need to figure out why that’s happening?”

  I need to see Cassandra. Touch her. Hear her voice.

  The urge clamors through me, and I’m moving before I even register it.

  “Enjoy the stories, I’ll have more for you soon,” I promise hastily. “And candy for Jellybean.”

  “Goodnight Uncle,” Miranda calls as I close the grate, sliding the bolts back into place.

  Will my Dove be asleep? Although the Kingdom is a place of eternal night, we still maintain the same functions of a realm with night and day. Even watching her in slumber will ease this unfamiliar compulsion I harbor.

  Negotiating the labyrinth of corridors quickly, I round a corner, my feet faltering.

  Her cell door lays open.

  Glancing up at the camera at the end of the hall, the red light is off. Why the fuck hasn’t Jasper informed me? Alarms should be sounding. Has she escaped?