Mentor (An Impossible Novella) (9 page)

Despite everything He had put me through, my mind was still my own.  Mostly.  He might have bent me, but he hadn’t broken me.

Not yet.  
An insidious voice that sounded suspiciously like my Master’s whispered through my mind.

I slapped it away.  I would never escape Him if I gave in to that voice.  My only power was my mind, and although He had overcome that power with his own formidable mind time and again, I couldn’t just give up.

It was time for another question.  Only, this one was carefully crafted to force a more useful answer.  I knew He would lie; He had lied before.  I just hadn’t known it then.  And He might not have known it, either.

I knew the price for my question, but I was willing to pay it.  How different could his cock be from his fingers?  He had already violated every inch of me.

I settled into my darkness, allowing my mind to float in nothingness until He came for me.  I needed to conserve my mental reserves for when I would challenge Him.

When He came to me, I said nothing while He cared for me in our usual routine.  It wasn’t unusual for me to remain silent, but something about the tension in my body let Him know that things were different.

Once He was finished feeding me, He removed my blindfold.  Keeping me cradled in his arms, He tenderly traced the line of my lower lip.

“What do you want to say to me, pet?”  Anticipation practically vibrated through Him.  He knew what was coming, what He would finally be able to take from me.

I took a deep breath before uttering the words that would seal my fate.

“Why are you doing this?”

He frowned, obviously disappointed in me.  “You’ve already asked that.  I’m doing this because I want to.”

“No.”  The denial was sharp on my tongue, definitive.  This wasn’t a weak protest.

His brows rose, and the disappointment etched in his features gave way to curiosity.

“No?”  I expected his tone to come out low and dangerous in response to my defiance, but if anything it held the warmth of pleasure.

He’s pleased that my mind hasn’t broken,
I realized.

I didn’t care for the idea that I had pleased Him, but I didn’t want to be broken, either.  Ignoring the conflicting emotions that arose within me, I pressed on.

“You’re lying.”  My declaration only slightly shook with my fear.  “You don’t want to do this to me.”

“Oh, pet,” He laughed.  “You think I don’t want to keep you any longer?  Do you think I care about you?”

His mocking words hit close to home, and I flinched.  I had hoped that his amusement with me, his pleasure at my resilience, was growing into a kind of twisted affection.

“No.”  I clung to my determination, gathering the few vestiges of courage that remained within my soul.  “You
need
to do this to me.”

His face went completely blank for the space of a moment.

He blinked.

When He looked down at me, there was respect and a hint of something akin to wonder in his eyes.  Something else flashed behind them.  Could it be pain?

Then his frown returned, and his fingers flexed around my arm where He held me to his chest.

“Very well, pet,” he allowed, his voice tight.  “I do need to do this to you.  But make no mistake,” his eyes burned down into mine, “I want to do this, too.  I enjoy torturing you.  And now, I finally get to take what I want.”

It was far from a heartening response, but He suddenly showed more emotion than ever before.  It manifested in a new ferocity; the restraint He had exercised for so long was utterly gone.

He shoved me back onto the bed.  To my surprise, He didn’t bind me with my cuffs as He usually did before He pleasured me.  He didn’t need them.  The strong grip of his hand around my wrists, pinning them above me, was more than enough to hold me in place for Him.

His movements were frenzied, almost fumbling, as He reached into his pocket with his free hand.  I recognized the small item He held as a condom in the seconds it took him to free himself from his low-slung jeans and sheathe himself.

Still fully clothed, He settled his body over mine and pressed at my entrance.  I was tight with lack of arousal.  He hadn’t taken the time to prepare me, and the slickness I needed to accommodate him was absent.

For a moment, I feared He was going to shove in ruthlessly, but He reached between us with a growl, pinching and rubbing my clit until I began to relax.  When his fingers found the wetness between my labia, He grunted in satisfaction.

The head of his cock pressed at me.  It was much wider than his two fingers, and I gasped.  Were all men so large?  His cock had to be at least nine inches long.  I tried to squirm away from Him, my body fearing the penetration.

His feral snarl warned me to stillness.  He stroked my clit again, and I softened beneath Him.

Slowly, He eased into me.  His breath puffed in and out in hard hisses through his teeth.  I was amazed to realize that He was restraining himself from slamming into me.  Did He care about not hurting me?  Or was this all about his control over himself?

A second later, I decided I didn’t care.  He hit a barrier, and pain shot through my womb.

My hymen.
 

“Hold on, pet,” he ground out.

His hips thrust upward, destroying my virginity.  I screamed as it tore.

He released his hold on my wrists to cup my face in both hands.  His forehead rested on mine, and the flames of his eyes threatened to burn right through me to scorch my soul.

It’s his first time, too,
I realized with a jolt.

Without thinking, I reached up to run my fingers through his hair.  He leaned into my hand.  It was the first time I had ever touched Him of my own volition.

“It’s okay, Master,” I heard myself reassuring him.  “I’m okay.”

His groan was one of relief, and He began to move inside me once again.  Now that both of his hands were free, He was able to play with my breasts while He toyed with my clit.  He gave me the little flashes of pain that I was coming to love so much, and I softened to accommodate Him further.

The agony that I had felt at his initial penetration faded, and I found myself rocking my hips up to meet Him.  My hands wrapped around his shoulders.  When the head of his cock found that sweet spot inside me, my fingernails bit into his skin in an effort to hold Him to me.  But He wouldn’t have pulled away even if I had been clawing at his eyes rather than his back.

He grasped both of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisted hard.  The shock of pain slammed me into my orgasm.  Just as my inner walls began contracting around Him, his ecstatic shout joined mine.  His cock pumped within me, matching the fluttering of my core.

I felt more alive than I had since He had abducted me.  For the first time in I didn’t know how long, I was connected to another human being.  Maybe for the first time ever.

And He
was
human.  A swell of emotion that I had never seen in Him blazed out of his eyes: a mixture of bliss and possessiveness.  The lines of his face were ferocious, but He had never seemed more truly content.

I moaned as He pulled out of me, and a sudden sense of stark emptiness washed over me.  Tears rolled down my face, but for once they weren’t born of pain or shame.  The swell of emotion within me was just as strong as his.  It was so overwhelming that it made me weep.

He shifted his body so that He was resting beside me.  Wrapping his arms around me, He pulled me into his chest.  Without a thought, I nestled into Him.  My tears wet his t-shirt, but He didn’t seem to mind.  I noticed that He smelled good, like salt and earth and something purely masculine that was unique to Him.

For once, the feel of his powerful muscles surrounding me didn’t fill me with fear.  I felt protected, comforted, treasured.  The way He stroked my hair wasn’t condescending or manipulative; it was a show of genuine affection.

Wasn’t it?

I shut off my busy brain before it could ruin this blissful moment between us.  Somewhere deep inside Him, there was a shred of humanity, and it had taken lust to pull it out of Him.  I had always thought lust to be a loathsome source of weakness, but I had been wrong.

Lust was cleansing.  It brought me pure joy after my endless, dark misery, and it brought out the best in Him.

I breathed in his scent and released it on a happy little sigh.  His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer.

Before either of us realized what was happening, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

His Journal
 

May 20, 1978
 

I held her because I had to.  The act of caring is essential in maintaining control over her.  She needs to crave my cock, to beg me for it.  I’ll settle for nothing less.
 

She’s mine, and I intend to keep it that way.  If she breaks, she won’t be
her
anymore.  And I’m enjoying her far too much to allow that to happen.  I don’t think I would like it if she broke completely.  I would have to get rid of her, and I like the pleasure she gives me too much to give it up.
 

I can always get another toy when she breaks, but I don’t want that.  I want her.  My pretty, clever little pet.
 

As much as I enjoy her sharp mind, I’m sometimes annoyed by how perceptive she is.  Yesterday, she managed to truly surprise me for the first time.  When she asked me why I was doing this to her, I was disappointed.  I thought her mind had finally shattered.  Then she forced me to admit the truth, not only to her, but to myself.
 

I
need
to do this to her.  When I abducted her, I was so fascinated with the sensation of
wanting
that I didn’t think much beyond it.  I wanted her, so I took her.
 

But she’s right: I need to do this to her to keep the darkness from encroaching.
 

But I don’t need her.  Any woman would do.
 

So long as she remains with me, my needs will be met.  Now that I’ve had a taste of her cunt, I want more.
 

She thinks I need her?  I need to hurt her.  I’ll teach her to like it.  She’ll last longer that way.
 

Chapter 7
 

Kathleen
 

Why do you need to control me?
 

I awoke to my usual darkness.  I was back in my cuffs, and the blanket covered my nakedness.  I would have preferred his warmth beside me.  In the time we laid in each other’s embrace, we had been more than sadistic captor and desperate captive.  We had been a man and a woman, tied together by the sweet bond of lust.

Lust is good.  
Why had I spent so many years fighting it?

Lust wasn’t a weapon; it wasn’t weakness.  It was bliss, peace, communion.  It was humanity at its most basic, the most primal form of goodness.

If that goodness hid within Him, there must be some reason it had been buried.  I yearned to know more about Him, and I acknowledged that my desire wasn’t entirely born of my efforts to escape him.  Learning more about Him had long been a stratagem for winning my freedom.  Now, it was more than that.

Yes, I did hope He would release me from this cruel bondage if I could make Him realize how much He cared.  And He
did
care.  No matter what his lips said, I saw it in his eyes as He moved within me in the most intimate way possible.

If that capacity for caring lurked within him, there must be some reason why it was buried so deep.  What happened to Him that left Him so broken?

What made my dark angel fall?

No.  He’s not my angel.  He’s my demon, even if he does give me pleasure and the illusion of tenderness.
 

I had another question.  After our moment of exquisite shared passion, I didn’t fear Him as much as I had.  I wasn’t as afraid to risk asking.  A sick part of me even anticipated coupling with him again.  He would come to realize that the sensation He felt each time He took me was an emotional connection.

He cares.  I just have to make Him see it.
 

I sighed, settling into my darkness until He returned and made the world materialize again.  When I heard his approach, my heart leapt and my brain whirred back to life.  It was as though I entered some sort of stasis when He was absent; I was only alive when He was with me.

“Hello, pet.”  I could hear the smile in his voice before He removed my blindfold.

His pleased grin was dazzling as ever.  It had once elicited fear and anger, but now it only awoke a warm glow in my chest.  That realization made me uncomfortable, but it did nothing to lessen the warmth.

It was more imperative than ever that I convince Him to let me go.  My mind was fracturing, turning against me as my body had long ago.  If I could help heal Him, He might not need me anymore.  He would free me.

“Why do you need to control me?”  I asked without preamble, not wanting to wait another second to discover his secrets.

His smile wavered, diminished by surprise.  I had caught Him off guard.  His forefinger hooked beneath my chin, tilting my head back so He could study my face.  Heat flared in me with just that one touch.  He was the only real thing in my world, and I craved Him.

Dimly, I hated that.

His lips twisted into that cruelly beautiful smile of his, but I could detect a new warmth behind it.  The pleasure there wasn’t simply for my anguish.

I wasn’t anguished.  Not really.  Not while He was touching me.  I was enthralled.

And so was He.

“Eager for more already, pet?”  He asked with soft satisfaction.  “You’ll get more than my cock for that question.”

Fear fluttered to life in my belly, emanating through my disconcerting contentment.  His lopsided smile became more pronounced.

He said nothing else; He simply let the vague knowledge of an impending consequence hang over me.  I knew He would answer eventually, and when He did, there would be a price to pay.  My fear grew as He went about our normal routine, removing my cuffs and holding me while He gave me food and water.