CHAPTER4
Shelaine
I stare up at the man on the dais, my heart pounding in my chest. I know him. He frequented Malum when I was there, where they forced us to dance for and entertain the men. His name was spoken about in hushed whispers, as if saying it too loudly would conjure him into existence.
Then again, most names were said in that same manner. But why is he here? To my knowledge, the Ravens stayed in Ashen Springs. It’s one of the reasons I ran so far away. No one ever said he was a Raven, but he was talked about as if he were cut from the same cloth.
Micha, the leader, was the one that brought me there, forcing me to degrade myself for men such as Luke. When I got the chance to run, I took it and never looked back. But now, I’m forced to reconcile with my past. For Luke to be here for initiation means that he’s not going anywhere.
Maybe I’ll be lucky, and he doesn’t remember me? Goodness knows the stories of his prowess were far and wide. He’d had sex with just about everyone there. And it wasn’t sweet, pleasant sex either. It was hard, rough, and painful.
We locked eyes one night as I danced, and the pain I saw in his depths stole my heart. He wasn’t like the other guys that came around. They seemed to like hurting us for the pleasure of it, but something told me Luke hurt others because he hurt.
Unlike the guys that used the submissives for their pleasure and left, Luke left each of his victims satisfied and hungry for more. They took the pain he gave because the pleasure was so intense, so exquisite, that they were willing to crawl through hell to get to the heaven he promised.
But I wasn’t like them. I was a virgin when I was dumped into Malum. I had no experience, no way of knowing what I liked and didn’t like. The idea of someone like him hurting me seemed abhorrent. It wasn’t until Loftry took me in as a submissive that I started to understand.
Still, just seeing him up there sends shafts of fear through my body. It brings back memories I’ve tried desperately to work through. I was one of the lucky ones. Most of the men paid no attention to me, opting instead for other girls that were more experienced.
No one knew that I was a virgin when I arrived, and when they examined me, they didn’t see a hymen. Who even knows how or where I lost it, but it ended up being my saving grace. No doubt, if I was a certified virgin, the men would have been clamoring to bid on me.
They thought I was just untrained and stupid, someone they didn’t want to waste their time on. And I was grateful. It wasn’t that virginity was important to me, but I didn’t want to waste my first time on something I didn’t agree to.
But deep inside, I always wondered what it would be like to lose it to him. Would the pain have been worth it? I heard so many stories of dissatisfaction that I started to wonder if guaranteed pleasure was worth the humiliation and agony he forced onto their bodies.
I watched him as I was dancing. I saw the way the girls bounced up and down on his lap, his cock disappearing into their bodies. But I also saw the marks he left. My eyes never missed even one bruise or cut on their bodies. Sometimes, their mounds and lower lips would be bruised and swollen, making me wince.
It wasn’t until seeing the consensual acts between the Dominants and submissives that I truly started to understand the freedom of letting them have their way. I wanted the experiences they had, the rapture, but no one seemed to want me.
Granted, more than likely, it’s because I’m essentially a ward of Dean Anderson. I’m his personal secretary, and everyone thinks we’re together. But we’re not. We’ve had nothing sexual happened between us since the moment he found me. When I was forced to go through my own initiation, he came on me like the others but didn’t touch or fondle me. He kept himself at a distance.
With Dean Anderson, I was able to learn some things I liked and many that I didn’t. He worked with me, trained me, and allowed me to blossom as a submissive, learning far more about myself than I thought possible. But at no time did he ever touch me in an intimate manner.
True, no place on my body was spared from his riding crop, but he never penetrated me or touched me with anything more than a clinical touch. Now, he basically only spanks me for maintenance or to help keep me in my submissive frame of mind.
We don’t meet up and play. We don’t steal moments away in his office when no one else is around. I know the rumors. I hear them any time I’m at Chi Sigma Delta or in the space around the other Dominants, but I never correct them. It keeps me safe.
If they think Dean Anderson owns me, then that makes me off-limits. It’s allowed me to enter these spaces and learn without fear of someone taking liberties. And I’ve soaked up everything like a sponge. There are so many things I’ve wanted to try, but I’ve never felt safe enough to explore them.
There’s no way I can ask the dean to help me with my deepest, darkest desires. They’re far too intimate for our relationship and, no doubt, far outside the realm he likes to play in. He’s not a dark, jaded man. He’s just a kinky fucker that gets his rocks off on impact and slight humiliation, but even then, it’s more along the lines of showing him your panties or begging for release.
What I want, what I crave, is someone to shove me into the darkness and drown me in it. I want someone to take my hand and lead the way, but none of these Dominants have ever sparked anything in me. Grigori was a contender at one point, but I took too long, and he’s now with Chelsea.
I don’t begrudge her at all, though. They seem perfect for each other, and the love he exudes when he’s with her is the stuff of legends. But he has that darkness, that it factor, something I’ve searched for in the new initiates. But to my knowledge, no one else has been brought forward since I’ve been here. Not until Luke.
Deep in my soul, I want him to be the one, but based on what I’ve heard, I’m not the type he’d like to play with. For all my experience, I still haven’t tasted anything like the dark thread that runs through him. I’m not skilled in the ways he’d want.
I managed to escape Malum before learning those kinds of dark arts, and Dean Anderson isn’t up to teaching me. What he did was give me the taste I needed and the courage to know that I could handle far more than I thought. The things that I saw at Malum were frightening because I didn’t understand them.
But now I know, and now, I want more. Staring up at Luke’s sweaty form, I shift about, detesting the arousal flooding my body as his chest heaves from behind the ropes. He’s strung up high, naked, and in agony, but all I can think about is how that huge cock would feel if he forced himself inside
Loftry seems to have rubbed off on me in a way that isn’t proper. I should be wanting to help him down, to ease his pain, not kneeling here imagining walking up there and impaling myself on his erect cock. Would he even care if I offered him my virginity?
I hadn’t really been saving it for anyone, in particular, more like I was just grateful it wasn’t ripped from me. There are nights I lie awake and wonder how exactly I lasted in Malum without being assaulted? And the poor sap that bought me? He was too drunk to even get it up. Once he was asleep, I made my escape.
But with the way Luke stared at me as I danced for him, there was a part of me that wondered if he’d be the one. Would it cost him extra to fuck me? To steal away my last vestige of innocence? Would it even make a difference to him? Probably not. Men like him didn’t notice girls like me, and if he wanted me, he wouldn’t let something pesky like my virginity stop him.
Shaking my head, I stare in rapt attention as Doctor Andrew tortures Luke, and my stomach churns. I’ve never been to an initiation for a Dominant before and had no idea what to expect. This isn’t anything like what I imagined. I had images of hooded figures and candles, of secret incantations and paddlings. Normal, frat-house-type stuff.
But this makes me ill. I could never be a Dominant in The Society if it meant doing this to other people. It’s probably why most of them don’t show up. The few that are here are some of the hardest Doms I know. Though, Professor Richards and Master Grigori are the only ones I know pretty well.
Mistress Nadia, Doctor Andrew, and Doctor Bradley are more like acquaintances. We’ve passed each other, and they’ve spoken with me to get appointments with the dean, but we never ran in the same circles. I wasn’t into women, and I didn’t need either a physician or a psychiatrist.