The Dancer and the Masks by Bea Paige

Chapter 20

CHRISTY

“No,” I breathe out. This can’t be happening. They were supposed to be revolted by me. I would never have revealed my true self if I’d known. What have I done?

“How many times do we have to tell you, Nought? No isn’t a word we understand,” Leon says, and with every step forward, I take another step back. “I want to fucking touch you again. I want to plunder your mouth and drink from your soul. Fuck, I want to do very, very bad things to you.”

His eyes flick from my lips to my pussy and a concoction of heat and shame fires inside my belly. I don’t want his attention, but my body remembers how it felt to be kissed by him, touched by him. It was like swimming in the ocean with a shark, you know it has the power to bite you, kill you, but despite that the rush is thrilling, addictive. That kind of fear, it can make you feel alive when the possibility of death is so near.

“No!” I repeat, louder this time, more for my own benefit than anyone else.

“Leon,” Jakub warns, stepping forward. “We have an agreement.”

Jakub flicks his gaze to me, the muscle in his jaw leaping. For the briefest of moments, indecision crosses his face. I don’t know quite what to make of him. One minute he’s handing me a chastity belt to prevent his brothers from raping me, and the next he’s removing it so they can all get their kicks. A moment ago, he’d said I was marked, deformed, and yet he looks at me like he wants me. Now here he is trying to prevent Leon from acting on his perversions. Of the three, Jakub’s mind games are the worst. At least with Konrad and Leon I know what their true intentions are.

“You said no fucking,” he replies, a wicked smile pulling up his lips.

“You will have your time with her. That time isn’t right now.”

Leon’s fingers curl into his palms, but he halts his path towards me when Jakub steps in front of him. “Are you stopping me from what is rightfully mine?” he challenges.

“The question isn’t whether I’m stopping you, Brother, but whether you can stop?” Jakub counters, pressing the flat of his hand against Leon’s chest. “Because I’m getting the distinct impression that now you’ve had a taste of Nothing, you won’t be able to. Need I remind you that she’s ours, not yours? We all know what would happen if you truly let go.”

“Then why dangle the carrot if we can’t take a damn bite?” he retorts, angry now that his toy has been taken away from him. “What the fuck was the purpose of today, huh?”

“He’s got a point,” Konrad interjects as he approaches us with the leash. He has it wrapped around both hands, the leather taut between his fists. “Don’t tell me that you’ll be able to stay away from her now, not after this.”

Jakub squeezes the bridge of his nose, sucks in a deep breath then holds his hand out to Konrad.

“Give me the leash,” he demands.

“What do you intend to do?” Konrad questions him.

“Give. Me. The. Damn. Leash!”

Konrad slams the leash into Jakub’s palm, and for a moment I think they’re going to fight. Instead, Jakub ignores Konrad’s aggression and grabs the back of my head. His fingers squeeze my scalp, his scent cloaking me in rich earthy tones as he invades my space with the length of his body. “My gut is telling me that I should take this leash, wrap it around your throat and end this now for all the trouble you’re causing.”

“So end it,” I whisper, meeting his gaze. “Because I’d rather die than suffer your vile fantasies.”

“And yet...” he continues, lowering his mouth to my cheek. “Like my brother, I’m not in the business of giving people what they want. Especially when we still need our revenge.”

“W—what?” I stutter, my breath hitching in my chest as his erection presses into my stomach and his lips slide over my birthmark, trailing heat across my skin and causing shivers to cascade down my spine. He’s turned on by this, by my fear.

“Killing you would be a kindness. I’m not a kind man,” he says, his mouth hovering over mine as his fingers begin to massage my scalp. It’s a gentle touch, soothing and completely contradictory to his words and his threat. “Not anymore.” He whispers the last part so quietly that I almost think I’ve misheard, but when he pulls back I see a glimmer of the boy he once was. He’s buried deep, but faintly present.

“Give me your shirt,” he says to Konrad, jerking his chin.

“My shirt?”

“Yes, give me your damn shirt. Right the fuck now.”

Konrad scowls but obeys Jakub, pulling his shirt free from his trousers and unbuttoning it before handing it to him. He’s bare chested, a smattering of dark hair covering his well-defined pecs and abs. Curling my hands into fists, I look away, focusing on Jakub.

“Put this on.”

“Fine!” I snatch the shirt from Jakub, sliding my arms in place and buttoning it up, trying not to breathe in Konrad’s spicy scent. The shirt swamps me, hitting mid-thigh. He steps close, his eyes locking with mine.

“You missed one,” he says, buttoning up the top button, making sure I’m covered up. Luckily for me Konrad is a big guy, and despite the shirt being fully buttoned it’s not tight around my throat like the collar is.

“What the fuck is this? What are you doing? We’re not done here,” Leon says, grinding his teeth in agitation. Clearly he enjoyed seeing me naked. I should hate that fact. I do hate that fact. Yet, in a small twisted way I also like it. I like the fact he wants to see me naked, that he’s so pissed off that Jakub’s covered me back up. God, what is wrong with me?

“We are done here, and we have a new plan,” Jakub announces, clipping the leash back on my collar and dragging me towards the table.

“What fucking plan?” Leon questions as I try not to trip over my feet in my haste to keep up with Jakub. I’m not sure whether it’s the after effects of The Quickening, the antidote that Thirteen had fed me, the stress, or a combination of all three, but my muscles feel weak once more. Regardless, I’m still here. I’m still breathing. I’m still intact, mostly.

“Our father often tested us,” Jakub says, “He pushed our limits, taught us how to be the men we needed to be in order to survive in a dog-eat-dog world. Recently we’ve lost our focus. This will give it back to us. We’ll all be stronger for it afterwards.”

“Or dead,” I murmur under my breath.

If Jakub hears me, he doesn’t acknowledge it, instead he shoves the chastity belt into my hands. “Put this back on.”

I take it from him, stepping back into the disgusting contraption even as relief floods my veins. He clicks the lock in place, then picks up his discarded mask and puts it back on before twisting on his feet and walking back across the hall with me in tow.

“What are you going to do, Jakub, take her back to your bedroom? She won’t last the night.”

Jakub stills, turning to face his brothers. “Which is precisely why I’m giving her to Thirteen. She’ll hold the key.”

“For how long?” Konrad questions, a muscle in his jaw flexing.

“Until the night of the Ball.”

“Fuck,” Leon mutters as Jakub yanks on the leash, walking me from the room just like a dog commanded to heel.

* * *

With my jawgritted tightly and fighting the urge to cry, I walk beside Jakub through another section of the castle I haven’t seen before. There’s more life here, and every now and then I see a glimpse of a member of staff going about their business. Which means, if I can see them, they can see me. Heat blooms across my neck and chest at the thought of more people seeing me collared and leashed like a dog. The only saving grace is that Konrad’s shirt is long enough to hide the archaic device that simultaneously takes away my freedom to make my own choices and protects me, at least temporarily, from The Masks’ thievery.

“Everyone will see,” I hiss, dipping my head and folding in on myself.

“And…?” Jakub retorts tightly, pulling on the leash so that I keep up with him.

“Why do you insist on humiliating me? Isn’t it enough that you’ve stolen my dignity and self-respect? Now you’re parading me around like this, like some trussed up animal. How dare you!” I hiss, ducking my head as a middle-aged man steps out of a door further along the corridor. A servant, given his attire. Before I drop my gaze I see the unmistakable look of horror, pity and disgust on his face. Jakub sees it too.

“What the FUCK are you staring at?” he roars.

“Nothing, Sir. Nothing,” the man says, dropping his gaze.

It was the worst possible thing he could’ve said, using Jakub’s name for me like that. Coming from this servant it wasn’t meant as an address, but that doesn’t matter to him. Dropping the leash, he strides over to the man, grips him by the throat and shoves him up against the wall with a thud.

“Don’t fucking look at her, don’t speak her name. Do not fucking think about her, understand me?!” he roars, the man’s face turning red under Jakub’s tightening grip. For a horrifying moment I think he’s going to kill him. Instead, he releases his grip and steps back, chest heaving and body taught. “Get the fuck out of my sight!”

The man doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet and retreats into the room he stepped out of, disappearing from view.

“You didn’t have to do—”

“How dare he fucking look at you like that!” he roars back, cutting off my sentence and grabbing the leash, pulling me alongside him. He storms down the corridor taking a hard right, then entering a large room that allows me a view of a patio terrace and the gardens to the east of the castle through a set of french doors. I barely get a chance to absorb the rows of low, neatly trimmed hedges and rose bushes before Jakub is shoving open another door and pushing me into a dimly lit hallway beyond. Stumbling forward, I reach out to steady my fall but Jakub wraps an arm around my back causing me to jolt in his hold. He shudders with the contact, whipping his arm back as much as I leap away from him.

He can’t even bear to touch me.

“Last door on the left,” he bites out.

It’s an order for me to keep moving, so that’s what I do. At least I’ll be in relative safety when I get there. Thirteen had shown me compassion, kindness, and God only knows I’m desperate to feel safe right now. Well, as safe as I can be in a castle run by three sadistic men.

I lift my fist to knock on her door, but Jakub makes a tutting sound and shoves it open. I guess she isn’t afforded any privacy either despite her being family.

“What the hell…?” I say, my voice trailing off as I step into the room, quickly realising this isn’t Thirteen’s room at all but something altogether different.

The door slams shut behind me and I’m aware of Jakub twisting a key in the lock, but for the life of me I can’t even begin to worry about his intentions as I’m too caught up in what I’m seeing.

The room is filled with glass cabinets containing all kinds of strange objects and curiosities. In the cabinet closest to me there are human and animal skulls of varying shapes and sizes, displayed with jewellery and trinkets that hang from the skeleton teeth and drip out of hollowed eyes. I notice a pair of earrings that look eerily familiar to the necklace Twelve was wearing and see a spot next to it that’s suspiciously empty. This is where she must’ve stolen it from.

“Twelve’s actions go against everything we’ve built here. She’s lucky she isn’t dead for stealing this,” Jakub says, pulling the necklace from his pocket. I watch as he unlocks the cabinet and rests the necklace next to the matching earrings, before locking it again, pocketing the key.

“What you did—”

“Was necessary. These jewels belonged to my mother. Twelve knew that. They’re sacred,” Jakub insists, trying to justify what happened.

“It isn’t right. What you do here, it isn’t right,” I whisper, refusing to hear the emotion in his voice. I don’t care about his reasoning. Twelve’s back is ripped and raw, bloody and split. Nothing justifies that. Nothing.

“You don’t understand,” he says, his frustration clear. I catch myself wondering why he even cares about what I think. I’m no more than an object, after all.

Refusing to engage further, I stare at the pretty jewels sparkling under the soft lighting, so starkly beautiful against the whitewashed bones of the dead. I’m no expert, but I’m guessing they’re the real deal.

On the shelf below there’s an ornate clock, its hands made of tiny bones, thin and delicate but strong enough to carry the weight of time. Next to it is a dagger with a strange-looking leather handle. I peer closer, the incident in the corridor forgotten momentarily as I press my fingers against the cool glass.

“Oh my God,” I mutter, my stomach churning at the fine hair I see covering the handle and a portion of what looks like a butterfly tattoo still visible in the darkening skin. “Is that human skin?”

“Yes,” Jakub answers from somewhere behind me.

Swallowing hard, I snatch my gaze away from the disgusting item, turning my head, only for my eyes to fall upon another cabinet containing a gorilla’s foot, the grey-black skin aged and worn. Next to it lies an elephant tusk, ingrained on its surface are crude images of men and women fucking. A stuffed cat with a huge body and tiny head sits next to a dog with two tails and six legs. There’s a whole shelf filled with ivory carvings, the figurines might be fucking but they don’t appear to be enjoying it, every expression is one of torture and pain.

Tripping over my feet, and painfully aware of Jakub watching me, I move towards a third cabinet stacked full of glass containers filled with dead insects and reptiles. There are beetles and butterflies, snakes and lizards but like everything else in this room, they too are distorted in some way. They’re deformed, twisted.

I spin on my feet, feeling Jakub’s eyes on me as I try to absorb everything I’m seeing. I can’t seem to process it all quickly enough as my gaze flits from one item to the next. In the corner of the room there’s a whole cabinet filled to the brim with China dolls. Every single one of them is decapitated, their heads resting by their side, their eyes watching me as I step closer to look, then back away, my pulse jumping as their black, beady eyes follow my every step.

“Jesus,” I mutter, walking deeper into the room.

Another cabinet displays a large glass orb with a real, human eyeball floating inside of it, all of the optic nerves and sinewy tissue still attached. Next to that are several jars containing fetuses in different stages of development, preserved forevermore in formaldehyde. I don’t know a great deal about the natural development of the human fetus but I do know that they shouldn’t have five limbs, three arms or two mouths, like those I’m seeing before me.

I swallow hard, my gaze flitting from one strange object to the next, finally landing on a tiny human head. It’s shrivelled, the skin puckered, the eyes non-existent, dark hair drawn up into a tight bun. My hands fly up to cover my mouth as I try not to throw up.

“What is this place?” I whisper, jerking backwards into a hard chest. I hold in a screech, spinning around to face Jakub.

“These are my things. They’re mine,” he answers, stepping closer, crowding me, pushing me back against the cabinet. I suck in a shocked breath from the cool glass touching my skin and the sudden rash of phantom pain that forces its way into my consciousness.

“Why am I here? I thought you were taking me to Thirteen?” I ask, pushing the pain away, locking it up and refusing to acknowledge it. My senses are overloaded, I can’t deal with the pain on top of that right now.

“I was.”

“And you’re not now?” I question, my voice trembling.

“I wanted to show you these.”

“To frighten me?”

“No, to explain. To see if you understand.”

“I don’t. I don’t understand. Why do you keep dead fetuses, a human head, a knife that’s handle is made of human skin?”

“Because I appreciate the unusual. Covet it.”

“It’s perverse.”

“Why? I thought you, of all people, would understand.”

“Understand?” I draw in a shaky breath, anger flooding my bloodstream. “What, because I’m deformed too? Is that what you mean?” He cocks his head, looking at me curiously. He doesn’t have to speak for me to know the answer. “Is this what my future holds? Do you mean to use and abuse me then stuff me like that dead cat and put me in a cabinet, or pickle me in formaldehyde like those fetuses? Is that your plan of revenge? Maybe you’ll use my skin to make a handle for a knife.”

He makes a humming noise in the back of his throat, one that should terrify me but only seems to fuel my anger. The sick, twisted, bastard. “Now that you mention it…” He grins, making sure I see that stark cruelty in his eyes, the edge of mania.

Refusing to let him see my fear, I continue on with my tirade. “You put the Numbers in a show to perform for perverted men and women, because they’re beautiful, talented. But me…? I’m only good enough to be sneered at, stared at, like some curiosity, is that it?” I accuse, all the years of hurt that I’d thought I’d dealt with bubbling up to the surface. It doesn’t matter that my life is in mortal danger from Jakub, from these men. Right here and now, that’s what fuels my sudden rush of anger.

“I already said that you’ll be performing in the show.”

“So your patrons can see the twisted and ugly in order to appreciate the flawless and beautiful? Will it make the Numbers more valuable when they’re compared to me, huh?” Jakub’s nostrils flare, his mouth snapping open, but I cut him off. “You call me Nothing because to you I’m worthless, and the irony is you didn’t even realise just how much until I revealed my true face and showed you my skin. Even your servant understood that when he called me by the name you gave me.”

“No. I’m not putting you in the show to show off your flaws…”

“Then why?!”

Jakub’s jaw grits, his eyes flashing beneath his mask. I’m right. I know it. He means to humiliate me even more. I guess revenge is fucking sweet.

“Get on your knees, Nothing,” he grinds out, his fingers flexing then curling into fists.

“Why?” I duck away from him, sliding out from between him and the cabinet, putting a few paces between us.

“O Kurwa! Get on your damn knees!” he roars, reaching for my shoulders and forcing me to the floor. My knees crack painfully against the wooden floorboards, my tits bouncing from the force. “No one gets to call you Nothing but me. No one.”

“I don’t understand.”

Grabbing my jaw, he tips my head back. “He eye-fucked you! I should’ve fucking killed him!”

“Eye-fucked me? Are you insane?” I counter, pissed off at his anger, at his twisted up view of what just happened. “That man looked at me just like every other person in my entire goddamn life has. Like. I. Am. Nothing!”

Jakub’s fingers dig into my skin as he searches my face. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” My lips begin to tremble, but I press them into a harsh line and blink back the years of rejection and loathing trembling on my lashes.

“Your allure, Nothing.”

“Allure?” I laugh and it’s bitter and caustic. “I’m marked, deformed.”

“Yes!” he agrees, pissing me off even more.

“I’m trussed up like an animal. You have me on a fucking leash, for crying out loud! There’s no allure, just disgust, pity if I’m lucky. What the hell did you expect?”

“I expect my staff to look the fuck away! No one can look—can lust after you unless I say so!” His fingers grip me tighter, his teeth grinding as he tries to get a hold of himself.

“Yet, you parade me around like a dog,” I continue, shaking my head. “You want to put me in The Menagerie like some freak, but now you’re pissed off that someone actually looked at me? You’re unbelievable!”

“And you’re a fucking cock-tease!” he bites back, pushing his thumb between my lips and pressing my tongue down so I can’t respond. My teeth clamp down as I glare up at him, meeting fire with fire. Spite with spite. He’s fucking insane. I might be the one with a back covered in twisted, scarred skin but he’s the one who’s fucked up on the inside. I’ve done nothing to warrant such an accusation. I’m just trying to survive.

Fuck you.

“It’s my turn,” he suddenly snaps.

Turn?

My internal question is met with the sound of his belt unbuckling. I try to release his thumb, but he hooks it over my lower teeth, keeping my jaw in place, pinching my chin.

“I gave you something and now I want something in return,” he says, removing his thumb and unzipping his trousers, pushing them and his boxers down so he can release his cock.

“You stole that orgasm from me. You drugged me!” I hiss, glaring at him and not his cock that’s inches from my face.

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the one you gave up in my bedroom!” he counters angrily.

“Gave up?!” My stomach rolls over, sickness rising up my chest. He’s right. I did give it up. There was no drug to soften my body, heighten my senses, make me pliable. I gave him my orgasm willingly.

“Yes. Let’s level the playing field, shall we? I’m taking what’s owed to me.”

I suck in a breath, trying to back away on my knees, away from the angry, violent-looking dick he wields like a weapon. It’s long, hard and girthy; the bulbous pink head leaking pre-cum. Being in this position—on my knees with his cock in my face—is both terrifying and intensely intimate all at the same time.

This is the first time I’ve seen a cock in real life. Sure, I’ve watched a few pornos, more out of a sense of curiosity than anything else, but that’s nothing compared to what I’m seeing now.

I have the sudden, ridiculous need to touch it. Him.

“Suck it,” he grinds out.

“No!” I shake my head, but he grips my jaw once more, tipping my head back.

“Take my cock and suck me off. Right the fuck now.”

“You said you wouldn’t!” I hiss through gritted teeth.

“I said I wouldn’t allow any of us to fuck you. I didn’t say anything about getting my dick sucked.”

“You’re a sadist.”

“I’m far worse than that, Nothing. So much worse,” he warns me, passing the smooth head of his cock over my lips. I try to turn away but he releases my jaw and grasps the back of my head instead, keeping me in place. My scalp tingles as he tightens his fingers around the strands of my hair. I can taste the saltiness of him, the masculinity and power as he spreads his pre-cum like gloss across my lips. He shudders, his dick jerking upwards, hitting the tip of my nose as he glares at me with glittering, ravenous eyes.

“Ssij mnie! Suck. Me. Off!” he translates, a desperate almost pleading look in his eyes that belies his harsh order.

He wants me.

His cock is hard.

He’s desperate for me.

Deep down inside, right in the very dark recesses of my soul, a tiny flame alights. I’ve often wondered what it would feel like to have a man’s dick between my lips. How it would feel to have their cock heavy and erect on my tongue knowing I’d made them feel that way. Would I choke? Would I drool with saliva? Would I be turned on knowing the man I was sucking off was delirious with desire?

All those thoughts twist inside my mind as I shake my head, making it difficult for him to defile me further. I can’t ever let him know what I’m truly thinking, how fucked up I really am. “You put that in my mouth and I will bite it the fuck off!” My temper flares as I bare my teeth at him, showing him that I mean every word. At least part of me does.

“You bite me, and I’ll make you suffer.”

“You won’t be able to when your dick is bitten in half, you fucking perverted psychopath!”

“Grim will pay for it. Konrad will ruin her in his dungeons whilst her Beast watches, and then Leon will unleash his demons on them both whilst you watch. Are you willing to let that happen over a blowjob?”

“Don’t count on it,” I snarl, feeling the heat of my anger rushing up my neck and cheeks as I press my hands against his thighs trying to stave him off. “My sister isn’t to be fucked with, and neither am I, you demented piece of shit!”

Jakub’s eyes flash with hunger, his gaze locking on my birthmark as his chest heaves. I match the ragged, heavy rise and fall of his chest as we face-off. For long moments he just stares at me with his dick clutched in his hand and his gaze pinned on my birthmark. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was entranced, staring at me just like I was staring at all the horrible objects he keeps locked up in this room.

“Stop it,” I find myself saying, hating the way he’s looking at me. I feel degraded, stripped bare, less than human somehow.

“Do you know that when you’re angry it gets darker?” he comments eventually, releasing my head and running his fingers over my skin. He’s gentle, almost reverent, and I tremble under his touch, transfixed, horrified, confused by the look in his eyes, the change in them.

“What?” I mumble, taken aback by the sudden one hundred and eighty degree turn. The anger and desperation he’d worn so well is now replaced with awe and appreciation.

“Your birthmark, the colour deepens the angrier you get. Does it do that when you display other emotions? What about happiness, fear, pleasure?” he muses, his thumb pressing against my cheek, right across the bone, fascinated by something that has only ever caused me heartbreak. “The colour here is just like the centre of your cunt when you come, ripe like a fucking plum.”

“And...?” I snap back, not sure how to take him but unable to avoid the way he leisurely strokes his cock. My knees are still planted on the floor, my arse resting on my heels, the sting from the whipping I had earlier still smarting my skin, but I’m unable to move.

I should fight back. I should run.

In the end, I do neither of those things because what he says next freezes me to the spot.

“...And it’s fucking beautiful,” he mutters, shaking his head as though trying to fathom how that can be. How he could even voice such a thing to the woman he despises as much as I despise him?

“Beautiful?” My voice is incredulous.

“Yes, beautiful.” Shifting slightly, he takes his cock and gently runs it over my birthmark, his eyes heavy-lidded. He’s turned on by my birthmark. But that can’t be right. This is another manipulation, another lie. Isn’t it?

“You’re cruel,” I counter, hating the way my eyes prick with tears at the falsity of his words and the degradation of his touch.

“You think I’m lying? You think I’d be this hard if I wasn't telling the truth?” he asks me, reading my thoughts as he rests the tip of his cock against my lips once more.

I don’t respond, not trusting that he won’t invade my mouth the second I open it. Instead, my fingers curl into his thighs, bunching the material of his trousers that rest there. I ignore the sudden pain in my hand from punching Leon so hard and hold on for dear life.

“Look at this room, these things. I’m not like everyone else, Nothing, and neither are you,” he whispers, gentler now. There’s a subtle change in him, one that softens the harsh cut of his jaw, and the tight press of his lips. Even his fingers soothe, stroking my head, no longer yanking at my hair. “Open up for me. Let me know what it feels like to bury my dick in your mouth and come all over your tongue like you came over mine, and I swear to you on my brothers’ lives I will not touch you again until the night of the Ball.”

My breath stutters, my traitorous core throbs, remembering their touch despite not wanting it. I remember the way they’d made me feel not minutes ago when I’d been under the influence of drugs. They’d taken a piece of me with their thieving lips and hands, and I despise them for it. Yet, here I am on my knees with Jakub’s cock pushing gently against my lips, considering his request. I’m not an idiot, I know that he could take what he wants regardless. Maybe that’s the key. Fighting him is only fueling the need he has within him. I can take control back by allowing this to happen. It can be on my terms.

“What about Konrad and Leon?” I ask, my lips grazing the tip of his cock as I speak.

He shudders, pressing his eyes shut briefly. “They won’t touch you.”

“And you really believe that?”

“Yes,” he grits out, but there’s no denying the uncertainty in his eyes. He doesn’t believe they’ll be able to stay away any more than he has been able to do the same. I’m in this room on my knees, after all.

He licks his lips, waiting. He doesn’t force his cock into my mouth like I expect him to, he just stares at my birthmark, my lips, my eyes, like he’s not sure whether what he’s seeing is real or a fabrication of his twisted imagination. We’re at an impasse, one I don’t understand given his tendency to take. Then he curls his fist and gently, ever so gently, runs his knuckles over my birthmark and says; “That collar you’re wearing, it belonged to my dog, Star. I loved her. She was the only beautiful thing I owned. It’s an honor to wear her collar.”

My mouth drops open in shock, hanging slack, wide. I should’ve known better, because he takes that as an opportunity to slide his dick between my parted lips, sighing as he slips inside my mouth. The salty, warm taste of him assails my senses as I draw in a sharp breath, shocked by both the invasion and the confession. Jakub rests his velvety dick on my tongue, a vulnerability shadowing his features beneath the mask he wears. He hadn’t meant to say that, but now he’s filled the silence between us with a secret so thick I’m almost expecting him to use Star’s leash to kill me.

He doesn’t.

And I don’t bite.

Call it instinct, call it obedience, call it survival, maybe even strength, power. Either way, I don’t do what I threatened. Instead, I curl my tongue around his thick, veiny dick and suck.

He groans.

I lick.

He moans.

I scrape my teeth lightly over his sensitive skin.

He tucks his jaw into his chest and shudders.

I peer up at him from beneath hooded eyelids, through lashes still wet from the tears I’ve shed, and boldly take his cock in my hand. I grip the base and he jerks from my touch, letting out a sigh that cuts through my anger and seeps into my chest, burrowing there, uninvited, unwelcome but there.

With a new sense of purpose, I concentrate on giving him the best blowjob of his life. I’ve never done this before, but I’m a fast learner, listening to the sounds he makes, studying how he reacts to every lick and suck. It’s such an intimate act and there’s a level of trust involved.

I could bite him.

He could choke me.

But the fight has gone, the distrust between us has been pushed aside.

Right here and now, I’m just a woman giving a man a blowjob.

Giving him pleasure, not pain.

And just like I did, he concedes.

Shoulders dropping, mouth going slack, Jakub drops the veil a little, imparting me with the gift of his pleasure.

There’s a power in that. A shift in the dynamics. He might not think so, but it’s true nevertheless.

Suddenly I’m no longer a victim. His dick, the most delicate, private part of him, slowly, gently invades my mouth, sliding deeper. I should be disgusted, saddened. I’m not. I feel powerful because this time he yields and I take. I draw out his orgasm with a tongue tasting his cock, a mouth filled with saliva making it slippery and hot for him. He doesn’t seem to care about my inexperience, not going by the way he moans and gently cups my head. Jakub keeps his gaze fixed on me, never once breaking the connection.

I lick and suck, feeling infinitely more powerful than I had in the dining room not minutes ago.

His dick grows, hardening, filling with blood as I hollow out my cheeks.

“That’s it, Nothing. Just like that,” he croons, a tentative longing in his voice as his hips rock and the tip of his cock edges down my throat. I gag as he hits the back of my throat, so he stills then pulls back giving me the chance to breathe as I lick his rigid heat, sucking more cum leaking from his slit. “O, kurwa! Fuck!”

As his fingers curl tighter into my hair and he pushes his cock deeper into my throat, I understand what he needs and we somehow find a rhythm that becomes more and more frantic the nearer he reaches his peak.

He isn’t the only one turned on either.

My already swollen, puffy clit is twitching, needing friction as my hips rock in time with his. With my free hand, I grasp the chastity belt and pull it up revelling in the feel of the leather tight against my pussy, the welcome pressure.

“You want this…?” he questions, through a lust-filled haze. There’s surprise in his gaze, confusion, maybe even a little bit of anger. My eyes shutter closed, not wanting him to see how much this turns me on. I don’t want to be reminded of my position here, or of the truth of this fucked-up moment. I want to take what I can from it. I don’t want to be a victim. I need to feel in control.

Reacting to the reality of the moment, I suck harder, wanting him back where he was, trussed up with desire and lust, bound by sensation and hunger.

Helplessto it like I had been.

I don’t want the truth. I don’t want to be reminded of what this really is.

My fisted hand slides over his slick cock as my head bobs up and down, up and down, in my frantic need to get back into the headspace where this is okay and I’m not being abused. Releasing the chastity belt, I grab his balls and gently massage them, remembering how I’d watched a porn star do the same to her partner. It has the desired effect.

“O, kurwa!” he cries, his dick bobbing in my mouth as cum shoots out in a stringy wave, hitting the back of my throat. The new sensation makes me gag, but he holds me in place so I’m forced to swallow every last drop of his salty, musky cum. His whole body trembles, and a sense of ownership rushes up my spine, surprising me with its intensity.

My gaze locks with his and a flare of understanding flashes between us before it is gone.

“No, teraz ty też masz część mnie,” he says on a shaky exhale of breath, sliding his wet dick out of my mouth. I frown, reaching up to wipe the saliva and residue from my lips. “There, now you have part of me too.”