THE FOLLOWING NIGHT, I’m sitting in my Zenvo TSR-S, lights off and tucked back behind the tree line off the two-lane road.
The guy in my passenger seat is counting out the stack of hundred-dollar bills I gave him.
“No offense,” he mumbles.
“None taken.” I’d count that shit too. You can’t trust anyone these days.
He takes a few from the stack and hands them through the cracked window to the friend he brought standing outside the car. “Get ready,” he orders the guy.
“Nice doing business with you.” The kid laughs at me before walking around the front of my car and getting into his, parked next to me.
We wait silently. Adjusting in my seat, I feel the gun tucked into the back of my jeans. Like I said, you can’t trust anyone these days. I went to a hole-in-the-wall bar, made an offer to some men I knew wouldn’t refuse some cash, and struck a deal.
Here we are.
Sitting up straighter, I watch headlights come toward us. When the headlights pass us, we remain still, hidden by the tree line. The car sitting to my left turns theirs on and pulls out onto the road, following it.
About time, I turn on my lights and pull out onto the road, going in the opposite direction.
The house comes into view at the end of the road, and I pull into the driveway. It’s a white cottage tucked back into the woods of Pennsylvania. Secluded. Perfect place to hide bodies. There’s an old wives’ tale that these woods are haunted. That the Lords have buried so many men in the ground that if we ever had a flood, the bodies would rise and cover the street.
I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened. At twenty-two, my body count is five, and it’s only going to go up from there.
Coming to a stop, I see a car I recognize in the driveway. I expected it to be here. We sat tucked back in the trees when it drove by two hours ago on its way to this house.
Rolling my car to a stop, I pull the spare set of keys out of my pocket. “Take it straight there,” I order the man in my passenger seat.
He nods, taking them from me. Getting out of my car, he gets into the other, starts it up, and I watch it drive off just as my cell starts vibrating in my pocket.
“Hello?” I answer, turning toward the house.
“Dude, where the fuck are you?” my best friend Jayce barks into my ear. “The vow ceremony is about to start. Your chosen—”
“You can have her,” I interrupt him, knowing where this conversation is going and not caring.
He starts laughing, and I end the call when I make it to the back door. Just as I suspected, it’s unlocked. I gently push it open to step inside, holding my breath that it doesn’t squeak and alert anyone in the house of my presence. Closing it behind me, I tiptoe across the tile floor and quickly scan the room. It’s dark. The clock that hangs on the wall to my left tells me it’s a little after midnight.
I have an assignment. Get in, get a list together, and report the information that I document back to the Lords. Making my way down the hallway, I stop to take a look in the kitchen. Using my flashlight, I see a bottle of wine on the white counter. It’s empty along with two wineglasses. One has a very distinctive pink lipstick stain. I’d know it anywhere.
Turning away from the kitchen, I head toward the master suite. I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours studying the blueprints of this house, so I know where everything is.
Pushing open the bedroom door, I shine my light to see it’s empty. That means there’s only one other place to look. I make my way back to where I entered the house, but instead of going outside, I take a right down another hallway. There’s a door at the end with two locks on it. Both are deadbolts, but they lock from the outside. They are designed to keep something in on the other side. Not to keep someone out.
Turning both to unlock, I step inside, knowing it leads to the basement. My boots are heavy on the wooden stairs. Coming to the last step, I lift my light to see the room. It’s what anyone would call a dungeon. Whips, chains, and leather belts hang on the back wall in various shapes and sizes. Some would use them to destroy flesh. He uses them to make women come. Handcuffs, chains, and rope also hang from hooks and sit on shelves with masks and gags.
This is a sex dungeon.
I can’t say that I’m not jealous because I am. One day, I’ll have my own, but until then, I’ll just borrow his.
Shining my light over to the single bed in the center of the concrete room, I see what I came for. She lies there in the middle of the mattress, on her back, arms and legs spread wide open. She’s naked.
She’s got a blindfold over her eyes and a gag in her mouth—a clear piece of tape over her lips, but I can see what looks to be her underwear inside her mouth, filling out her cheeks.
Knowing she can’t see me, I flip on the light to get a better view. She’s not moving in her restraints, and by the look of the second empty bottle of wine I spot down here, I’d say she’s passed out due to having too much to drink. Or maybe he drugged her. Either way, she willingly drove her car here, knowing he would tie her up and leave her. He plans to use her when he returns. That’s what I’ve found from the research I’ve done so far anyway. He likes them to sit and wonder when he’ll return to use them. They get off on the anticipation.
This explains why she hasn’t messaged me to ask where I’ve been since I haven’t been over to visit her. She found someone who can give her what she wants. Actual dick. Well, it’s her lucky night. I’m officially a Lord and can stick my cock wherever I want.
Walking over to stand at the end of the bed, I look over her. The bed has an iron rail headboard and matching footboard. Vertical bars run up and down on both ends. Gives him something to tie them to. It’s a twin-size. Doesn’t need to be big or comfortable, for that matter. It’s not meant to sleep on.
Rope wraps around each wrist and ankle, then are tied off to the corners of the bed, securing her to it. No covers or pillows. Just her on a bare mattress spread wide open and ready to be used. My hard cock presses painfully against my jeans. I’ve seen her naked before. I’ve tied her down and gotten her off more times than I can count over the last two years, but this time, it’s different. She’s here for me to use. However I want.
Unable to stop myself, I reach down and undo my jeans, pulling out my cock. I stroke it a few times, my fingers feeling the piercings that run along my shaft.
When you’re told you can’t fuck, you find other ways to get off. Porn got old really fast. One of mine is pain—giving and receiving.
A mumbled cry comes from her taped lips, and she arches her back. She’s awake, after all. I make my way over to the headboard and look down at her. Reaching out, I run my fingertips along the tape over her pretty lips. The once pink lipstick is smeared all over it.
She yanks on the rope harder, her hips thrusting so hard that the bed rattles when she slams them back down onto the mattress. My heart pounds in my chest at the fact that she was going to fuck another man tonight. That I’m not the only one to get to use her. I’ve watched her in her room. I’ve followed her everywhere. When did she have the chance to meet him? To even have the conversation to make herself so vulnerable to him?
I slap her. Not hard enough to leave a print but enough to sting. She winces, but I love the way her nipples harden. She’s just like me. Pain gets us off. Leaning over the headboard, I grip both of her full breasts in my hands and massage them. Then move to her nipples, and I twist them between my fingers before pulling on them, making her scream into the tape, and I let go. Her body sags into the bed, and she breathes deeply through her nose.
Making my way back down to the foot of the bed, I lightly touch her ankle. Soft as a feather, I run the tips of my fingers along her smooth leg and up her inner thigh. The woman is five-four and doesn’t weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds. She moves once more, her back arching, her arms and legs pulling on her restraints.
I smile, my hand stopping on the inside of her thigh, just inches from her smooth cunt. She twists her narrow hips, trying to get my hand to go where she wants it. I want to deny her. Rip off the blindfold and see the shocked look in her pretty eyes. See fear that I’ve found her here so helpless. Embarrassed that she’s tied up for another man, but I’m the one who’s going to make her a whore.
My hand moves upward, and I slide two fingers over her cunt. Unable to help myself, I spread her pussy open wide for me to look at how wet she is. She whimpers, her neck arching, and my free hand reaches out, wrapping around her delicate throat and holding it down to the bed. She goes frantic, her hips bucking while she mumbles nonsense into her gag.
I push a finger into her, biting my bottom lip to keep from making a noise. She thinks I’m someone else, and I don’t want her to know it’s not him. I push a second one in, moving them in and out a couple of times before adding a third. She sucks in a deep breath through her nose, and I feel her throat work as she swallows against my hand wrapped around it.
Pulling them out, I watch as she sags against the bed. I climb between her open legs and shove my knees into her thighs, pulling the rope around her ankles taut at this angle. I could untie her legs, knowing she won’t fight me, but I’d rather have her like this. I don’t even bother removing my jeans.
Leaning over, I spit on her cunt, making sure she hears it, and then slap the side of her breast like I did her face. She whimpers, body jerking, but her nipples harden. Fuck, her tits are perfect. I’m not an expert, but I know she’s a thirty-two C cup. I’ve checked her bra sizes before. When I say I’m obsessed with this woman, I mean it. I know everything there is to know about her.
The fact that she’s tied up in another man’s basement reminds me that I only thought I did.
Getting her off over the past couple of years as a stranger has just made my obsession ten times worse. Do you know how hard it is to keep your true identity a secret when you know they want you? It’s a new level of fucking torture.
My hand comes down, slapping her cunt, and she cries out into her gag. I do it again, and the metal bedframe rattles at her useless attempt to free herself. Looking over her pussy, I see it’s now red, and I start to massage her clit. She still has it pierced, and I still crave to taste it. But not now. I’ll get my chance. Tonight is just the beginning of the rest of her life being mine and serving me.
I might not be fucking my chosen right now in front of my fellow Lords, but I no longer have to be celibate. I can fuck whoever I want. I’ve waited years for this—for her—and I’m not going to pass up the opportunity. No matter how wrong some may think it is.
I grab my wallet out of my back pocket and pull out the condom. I don’t want to use one, but I know he would. I’m not sure if she’ll feel the difference, but I want to make sure she doesn’t question it. I’ve never fucked her with my cock, and she’s never seen it. So she has no idea that it’s pierced, and by the looks of the empty wine bottles, I’m not even sure she’ll remember this night.
Ripping open the package, I remove my knife from my other pocket and poke a hole in the end. I might be using one, but I sure as fuck want my cum leaking out of her pussy afterward. She may not know it’s mine, but I will.
Taking my dick in my hand, I slowly push into her waiting cunt. I bite my lip to keep from making any sound once again as she sucks me in like I belong there.
Goddamn. It’s been too long since I’ve been inside a woman. So tight and warm. My breath catches, and my eyes fall closed. She’s what I imagine heaven is like. If I thought it existed. Men like me only know hell. Kill, take, bleed. It’s a system branded into our brains.
I shove my hips forward, making the bed rattle, and I watch her tied hands fist, her black-painted nails digging into her palms. I pull out and slam forward again, forcing her tight cunt to take my dick. Unintelligible noises come from her taped lips.
My fingers dig into both of her hips, and I pin her down while I fuck her as if she was left here for me to find and use while watching my cock move in and out, covered in her wetness.
Letting go of her hips, I slap her across the face, and her pussy clenches down on me. My little demon likes that. I do it again, and she arches her back, sucking in a deep breath while her pussy pulses around my dick.
Leaning forward, I wrap my hands around her throat, cutting off her air, and fuck her into the mattress like I’ll never get this chance again, when I know I will. No matter what, she belongs to me now—always has—and she’s about to find out too.
My eyes scan her face, what little I can see of it anyway. My lips are so close, I pucker them and kiss her taped lips. Pulling back to just look at her, I spit on her face. She can’t feel it, but she heard it, making her buck her hips, my cock still deep inside her. I watch it run down the clear tape, and I reach out and lick it off.
The sound of my heavy breathing fills the room while she fights me. I can’t wait for her to watch me fuck her. To see her cry for me while I’m inside her. It’ll be fucking perfect.
Her pussy clenches while she arches her back. Letting go of her neck, she breathes heavily through her nose. My eyes drop to her cunt and watch my cock slide in and out, now covered in her cum.
That’s my little demon. That’s what I’ve been waiting for all these years. Pulling out, I run my hand up and down my shaft, then slap her face again. Her body arches. I reach up and grab a handful of her hair at the crown of her head, careful not to pull the blindfold off, and lift her head from the bed and fuck her.
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I come with a groan. Goddamn. Placing my hands on either side of her chest, I feel my cock pulsing while buried deep inside her. I’m light-headed. The room spins like I’ve been the one drinking.
Three years is a long time, especially when you’ve spent the last two teasing yourself.
I pull out, and her body relaxes into the bed, totally spent while she remains shaking. Getting up, I remove the condom and grab my backpack. I pull out what I need and go back over to the bed. Grabbing the edge of the tape, I rip it off her lips. Then I reach into her mouth and remove her thong, shoving it into my jeans pocket.
She licks her lips, raising her hips off the mattress.
Kneeling next to her, I slide my hand underneath her head and lift it off the bed as much as I can with her arms tied down. Then I place the tip of the small tube at the edge of her lips. She opens up for me, thinking I’m giving her water.
Tilting it up, I watch the liquid slide into her mouth. She coughs, some flying out and onto her chest, but she doesn’t need it all since she’s been drinking tonight.
Laying her head back down, I place the now empty vial in my backpack and remove my hoodie that I had shoved in there, knowing I’d need it.
I wait a few minutes and then untie her legs. She pulls them up, bending her knees, and they fall to the side. Going to the head of the bed, I untie the rope from the two corners but not from her wrists. Rolling her over onto her stomach, I pull her hands behind her back, tying the two ropes together to secure her arms behind her. Then I take the hoodie I brought and shove it over her head to cover her nakedness.
My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see the text.
Done.
I smile, then bend over and pick her up in my arms, carrying her from his house. I’m officially allowed to have whoever I want now, and I want her. She’s mine, and no one touches what’s mine.
