“No,” she croons, letting go of my balls to slide the pad of her fingers against the swollen skin of my sack. “They showed me proper respect. None of them had to be brought down a peg or two. But you. You’re just a moron that can’t understand the basics of respect. And that’s exactly what you’ll learn from me by the time we’re done.”
Again, she smacks my balls, much harder this time, and the urge to fall to my knees races through me, causing me to buckle. It puts an intense strain on my wrists, forcing me to hold my body upright. I’m torn. I want so desperately to collapse to the floor and cradle my broken body until I can finally think with some clarity, but I also want to protect my hands.
It’s an odd dichotomy and one that I’m not used to. With Ryker, there was the push and pull of needing love and getting it in all the wrong ways, but he never played games. I was either rewarded or punished. In the beginning, he toyed with me, learning my emotions and what would work and what wouldn’t, but after that, it was a lot more cut and dry.
If I did what I was commanded to do, I got pleasure, sometimes with a bit of affection thrown in, just to keep me loyal. If I disobeyed, I got pain. These Dominants seem to operate on a vastly different scale, fucking with my mind as well as my body. If I knew that coming in, I could have prepared myself, but there was no warning.
Biting down on my lower lip, I hold in my vomit, not wishing to humiliate myself any further. As much as I want to fight back and hold my own, I need to pull away, retreat into myself. My mouth is only getting me into more trouble. If I could take it in silence from Ryker, then I can certainly take it from them. It galls me, though, the need to submit in this small way when I should be at the top of the ladder.
Just wait until the next initiation rolls around. If I can survive this, then I can wield my own sadistic pleasures onto another Dominant. I can let them get a taste of the humiliation dished out to me today. Every fucking Dominant here will pull back and rue the day they let me into their fold.
With a soft pat on my cheek, Mistress Bitch goes back around the dais until I’m no longer able to see her. But I can feel her presence. It’s a prickling against my skin that tells me she’s there. Her hot breath washes across my body as she skims her hands over me like I’m one of hers.
Without a hint of warning, cold metal prods at my back entrance and everything clenches up. No. Not there. Anything but that. I can allow her to touch and smack anything she desires, but not that. It’s too much, too painful. Since Ryker’s death, no one has been back there without consent. Having Parker up my ass was my choice, my decision. It was made out of longing. This is closer to assault.
She pushes the metal forward, breaching the hole. Despite the anxiety swirling through my gut, my cock stiffens and bulges inside the cage. It’s that heady mix of pain and pleasure that gets me off. A soft groan escapes my lips, and that’s all I’ll allow her to have. The object moves inside of me, expertly hitting my prostate.
I have to give her credit; she at least knows what she’s doing. The arousal from all the pain earlier comes flooding back into my body like an adrenaline dump. It hums under my skin as desperation claws at my body. I need to come. I need to have this release.
My lips quirk up as I try to imagine any of these other men being subjected to this treatment. Knowing them, they’d tell her to go to hell. More than likely, this is a brand of punishment specifically for me. It seems unlikely they’d make the others go through this.
Though, if they had, I’d love to watch, and not just because the sight and sound of men getting railed get me aroused. I’d love to see these men debased, pulled down out of their ivory towers to take this form of humiliation. Granted, unless they’re used to having something up there, they’d be in for a rude awakening.
If only this pleasure wasn’t because of her, though. Then, I’d be more than happy to have it happen. My vision swims as she continues to pound in and out of me, forcing my body to crave her attention. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this. Looking out over the crowd, my gaze finds the one man I hold responsible for all of this.
Louis watches on, his gaze dispassionate behind the mask, as if he doesn’t care that his son is getting raped in front of all these watchers. Though, if I’m being technical, she’s not raping me. By submitting to this initiation, I’m allowing her to do this. I signed my body away without asking questions. I was far too consumed with anger and revenge to clarify, and now I’m paying the price.
Gritting my teeth, I hang there, caught somewhere between a nightmare and reality, watching as Louis's face morphs into Ryker’s. He never fucked me where I could see his face. It was always from behind - humping me, dominating me. To see him clear as day as pleasure pours into my body is a novelty.
I know he’s not real. I know he’s not there, but that doesn’t stop my body from responding. It doesn’t keep me from wanting to cry out, begging him to just fucking love me. Old wounds that were long scarred over burst open, flooding my brain with sorrow, anger, and helplessness.
All my carefully constructed walls start to collapse, leaving me broken and battered, sobbing inside for the love of a man that never actually wanted me. He wanted power. He wanted revenge. He wanted… a weapon.
In these few moments of clarity wedged inside of the pain, I finally see Ryker for what he was. He used me, weaponized me, and forced me to be the snake in the grass that no one else could see coming. The very idea breaks me further, ripping apart my memories like bandages off of a wound.
My soul is black and rotted, seeping purulent infection, all of it caused by him. Once more, my vision fragments, showing me Louis’s face again, and anger swells through my psyche. Why isn’t he helping me? Why is he letting this stranger sodomize me?
This right here is why I don’t believe him when he spouts off about how much he cares for me. This is why I call bullshit on the fact that he never knew where I was or that I even existed. The fact that he’s letting this happen to me and just watching shows that even if he did know, he wouldn't have rescued me.
No doubt he’s getting off on watching this cunt force pleasure out of me. Why the fuck is he even here if not to frolic about in my pain. Would he enjoy a dramatic retelling of just how hellacious it was living with Ryker? Does he want a play-by-play of how his cock tasted when he came down my throat?
Pleasure pushes out the anger as my orgasm hovers close. It’s the perfect mix of violence and ecstasy. Pain prickles along my shaft as it swells even more, forcing the metal rings to dig into the unyielding flesh. I’m going to come whether or not I want to.
It's all the same. Just like when Ryker pushed me to the floor and fucked me. I didn’t want to come then either, but I was helpless to stop it. She continues to rock the metal in and out as precum drips to the floor and lands on the wood below. My eyes pull away from Louis to watch as another drop hovers at my slit before falling as well.
The wood turns a dark brown, just in those spots, and I’m mesmerized. I can feel the shift of dissociation even before it happens. It’s as if a haze descends on my brain and yanks out my conscious self to watch from up above, where it’s safe. Nothing hurts. Nothing bothers me.
Here, there is nothing.
It’s a beautiful place to be. Even when Shrinky Dink hunches down to study my face, I find that I don’t care that he’s so close to me. He speaks to me, but I can’t hear him. It’s a buzzing sound that makes no sense. His lips move, but nothing that comes out is intelligible.
All I can see are startling blue eyes as they stare up at me. A slight form of an awkward girl as she dances on stage, her gaze about a mile away. What was she thinking about? Did she enjoy having the men watching her, lusting after her? She was so young, so naive. Did I waste my chance by living in fear of the repercussions that would come from Ryker?
In those still, quiet moments, it’s her that keeps me company. It’s her fingers that slide over my body. Touching me, teasing me. There’s no more Domme with a God complex. There are no more Dominants that want to fuck with me. It’s only her. It’s only me. In this space, nothing else can touch me.
My lips curl into a smile as I lock eyes with him, as if to show him that I’m in a happy place. And that’s when the orgasm hits. It barrels through me, yanking me back down from the heavens and into my body where I hurt. Everything fucking hurts.
I scream in desperation as cum pours from my body and splatters against the floor. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to exist where everything hurts. I want to go back up where I’m untouchable, where nothing can get me.
In that space, there’s no pain, there’s no anger, there’s no Ryker. It’s just me, a bright-eyed boy with so many hopes and dreams in front of him. Before the evil taint of a sadistic madman, before my soul became so black that I have no hopes of even glimpsing heaven. This is the closest I’ll ever come to peace, and once more, it’s ripped away.
“Luke. Luke answer me. Luke!” Shrinky Dink stands and jostles me before gripping my chin in his hand and jerking my face up to meet his.
I can’t see him, though. He’s shrouded in a dark veil, just a shape, a lump of a man standing before me. My cock strains against the metal as tears stream down my face. It doesn’t matter that I had an orgasm; it wasn’t good. It wasn’t fulfilling. I want a warm body underneath me, a husk I can pour this sorrow and aggression into.
I want her.
I want blue eyes.
She’s the only one that will take away this pain. Somehow. I just know it.
The world starts to fade as Shrinky Dink shouts orders to the people around him. I can feel their hands on me as they lower me to the floor, but I don’t have the ability to swat them away. Slim fingers work at the cock cage, pulling it off. The relief is instant. And, as if that’s what my body was waiting for, I collapsed into a sea of darkness.
It’s not the heaven of my dissociation, but it’s still better than the hell of reality.