Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
“Spread your legs, beautiful,” I command.
She does as she’s told, and I loosen up on her neck, allowing her to breathe as my hand drops between her legs. I run my fingers along her pussy, and she pushes it against my hand, wanting them inside her. But instead, I hold them up in front of her face. “Look how wet you are just watching yourself beg me to fuck you. Imagine if I actually gave you what you wanted.” I place them in my mouth and suck on them.
Her eyes grow heavy. Fuck, she’s panting, and the room grows hotter as my cock presses against the inside of my zipper, begging to push her down to the floor and fuck her right here right now. To forget the plan I’ve spent two weeks putting together. I wouldn’t be a Lord if I didn’t have patience.
I take a step back, and she slumps against the glass, gasping. “Get some rest, doll face,” I tell her, then turn my back to her. I step out of the room, locking the metal door, making sure she can’t escape. Then I take an immediate right and walk into the adjoining room. I sit down on the barstool and watch her through the one-way mirror, knowing this will be her home for however long she decides.
CHARLOTTE
The blinding light turns off, leaving me with the dim bulb that hangs from the center. I manage to get over to the thin mattress and fall onto it. Positioning myself with my back against the wall, I pull my knees up to shield my body, my hands still tied to them at my sides. I know he’s on the other side of the glass, watching me. The video he showed me tells me he’s always got eyes on me. Whether it be a camera or him hiding in the darkness, he’s there.
The TV remains on—adding a little more light to the room—playing the same tape over and over with me being the main character. The sound of my voice begging him to fuck me has my breathing erratic. I can’t even lift my arms to cover my ears. That’s the point.
He’s forcing me to watch porn where I’m the slut begging for dick, and he’s the one refusing to give it to me.
I remember the dream very vividly. Then waking up and him being there. I even remember choosing to take the pill in the kitchen. It’s afterward that’s all fuzzy. I don’t recall lying in bed asking him to fuck me, him placing the belts on and securing me in place. Or how he got me here to Carnage.
But he’s right. I’m so wet right now. I place my forehead down on my bent knees and sniff. I want to cover up my face from humiliation, but I can’t. And that makes me angry.
Lifting my head, I glare at the glass with fisted hands. “Fuck you, Haidyn!” I yell. I drop my legs and kick them out, but it won’t do me any good. I’m throwing a tantrum in the middle of the store, and I’m being ignored.
Slamming my body down onto the mattress, I turn my back to the glass, forcing a whimper from my shaking lips because of how my arm is tied to my thigh. He’s thought of everything.
He wants me to humiliate myself.
The single light turns off, and all that remains on is the small TV, giving me very little light. It’s like a jail cell. What did I expect? He’s brought me to Carnage. I’m his prisoner. I’ll rely on him for food and water. He’ll probably only continue to feed me and give me water if he thinks I’m good enough to deserve it.
He said it’s up to me how long I’m here. I know what he wants, and as I listen to myself beg him to fuck me on the TV, I’m not sure how long I can hang on without giving in.
My father tried to warn me what would happen. The kind of life I’d live. What would be expected of me if I chose the Lords.
I look at the clock on my father’s dash to see it’s almost two in the morning. He woke me up and told me to get dressed. He wanted to take me somewhere.
As we pull down the gravel road, I sit up straighter while he finds a parking spot. The lot is full of expensive cars. “Dad—”
“Put these on.” He reaches into the back seat and grabs a black cloak and mask.
“I don’t understand,” I say, looking at him as he pulls his own over his head.
“You’re not allowed to be seen during an offering.”
“What am I offering?” I ask, my hands getting sweaty. He’s never brought me here before, and we’re not religious.
“Nothing.” He frowns. “You haven’t done anything wrong.” Sighing, he looks at the double doors and then back at me. “Your mother wants to prepare you for your future. I want to show you what happens if we fail you.”