Author: C.J. Roberts

“Yes, Master. I know you did. I’m sorry.”

“Well, if you weren’t before, at the very least I know you are now.” He sat on the bed and held out a glass of water and some pills. “Sit up and take these.”

I sat up slowly, sobbing. Part of it was the pain, but there was also a sense of shame involved. Caleb was disappointed with me. He’d told me the rules, he’d explained. I hadn’t listened. “I can’t believe you left me this long. It fucking hurts.” I cried.

“I didn’t choose to leave you, Kitten. You made that choice yourself,” Caleb said. It came as a surprise he wasn’t yelling at me, or promising me more pain. He was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing. I wondered if it was just another way to mess with my head.

“Where were you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Just now? Bed. Earlier, I went out. Felipe has horses and I’d never ridden one,” he smiled.

“Me neither,” I whispered. Now that Caleb was near, I felt calmer. I was angry with him, of course, but I’d come to live for these moments with Caleb. I felt protected. I felt kept. Without him, my life was a giant question mark.

He smiled a little and pushed an errant lock of hair behind my ear, “Maybe when you’re better, I can take you.”

My heart seemed to swell in my chest, “Will I be here long enough? With you?” I met Caleb’s clear blue eyes and they appeared wistful. I would have given anything to know what he was thinking, but I knew better than to ask.

“Maybe, Kitten. Sometimes…” he paused.

“Sometimes?” I tried to urge him along.

“Sometimes.” He smiled and stroked my hair with so much silent affection I felt like crying again. “Are you hungry, Kitten?” he whispered.

I inclined my face into his hand and closed my eyes, trying to hold on to him and knowing there was no way I possibly could. “Yes, Master.”

Then we ate, Caleb feeding me pieces off his plate. It was strangely…comfortable. Afterward, he rubbed my sore body until I fell asleep.

***

I slept, but I was having that horrible dream again. My stomach felt like a tight, hot knot of pressure weighing me down from the inside. I turned and turned, the knot only getting tighter and hotter and heavier.

They held me down, and the smell of beer and cigarettes came off of them in waves. Their rough hands blazed a trail along my skin as they pulled at my clothes, and the sound of my protests fell upon deaf ears. The horror played in slow motion, coming in random flashes of what I remembered, and what I still felt. Then the nightmare took on a life of its own, no longer bound by the facts.

I couldn’t fight them. My fists moved in slow motion, unable to land solidly. My voice wouldn’t rise above a whisper. One of them held me down as the other kissed me. I yelled for someone, but I wasn’t sure who, all I knew was this person could only help me if I made a loud enough sound. I fought with every ounce of my strength. My wrists were limp and my voice was small, but I fought. I started crying.

The worst was about to happen when the dream unexpectedly changed again. It was faster now, faster even than real time. Caleb opened the door and asked what the hell was going on and the arms holding me let go. They backed into the corner behind me. Free, I stood and ran into his arms. I wrapped my arms around him and I told him what they had meant to do.

They tried to deny it. Caleb told them to shut their mouths. He lifted me into his arms, telling them to stay put and carried me past the decrepit room filled with air-mattresses and clothes, into a room I recognized as his.

He set me down beside the door as he looked me over. “Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded, only slightly aware he ran his hands over my nakedness as he searched for injuries. He seemed satisfied I wasn’t hurt and hugged me again.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. The moment slowed and I looked him in the eyes.

“Hurt them for me,” I whispered.

“I’ll make them pay,” he said. His hands continued to move over me, and my hands held on to his shirt tightly. The tension in my belly transformed from solid to liquid and it ran down toward my thighs. The knot came undone and now felt like a cord stretched taut from my nipples to my sex. When he touched me, the cord tugged, and the feeling was overwhelming, savage, and strangely welcome.

I took my hands off of his chest and shrugged off the open top I wore. “I could’ve been really hurt if you hadn’t helped me,” I said. His eyes fixed on me, mixed with shock, and lust. He pinned me against the wall with his body, and the heat of his breath warmed and moistened my neck. I wanted to say something, but his right hand cupped me, down low, and my body felt paralyzed. The invisible cord inside me pulled taut. A lascivious yelp escaped my throat.

He pressed his lips close to my ear. “Don’t fuck with me,” he growled.

“Fuck me,” was my only response.

He reached his arms between my thighs and lifted me against the wall. He fumbled with his pants for a second, before he pressed his way inside me. I groped for his mouth to distract myself from his size, and when our tongues connected a rush of heat flowed out of me.

***

A loud grunt escaped my lips as I jerked awake, panting, my heart pounding, and the now familiar feeling of my entire body contracting and expanding for several seconds. I was definitely coming. Beside me, Caleb sat up swiftly and turned on the light on the nightstand.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

I was sweating, and still taking in deep gulps of air.

“Are you okay?” his voice sounded more annoyed and tired than anything else.

I nodded. “Bad…bad dream,” I stammered. He looked at me for a few seconds, and just seeing his eyes wouldn’t let me shake the dream. I looked down, and my breathing finally started returning to normal.

“You’re blushing. Why?” he asked softly and smoothed back my hair.

“I’m fine…I…I was just having that dream again.” My breathing evened out and the unexpected pulsing between my legs subsided. Finally able to, I looked in Caleb’s direction. He was staring at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked. His eyebrows knit together and a smile played on his lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that – Master,” he replied.

I bit my lip and looked away.

“Oh Kitten,” he whispered, his hand still stroking my hair away from my sweat-slick forehead. “If only you were well enough to play– the things I would do. But if you must know….” He leaned toward me and kissed my shoulder. “I’m looking at you because I think you’re sexy.” He kissed me up higher toward my neck. “Your face is all flushed and your hair is a mess.” He kissed me higher and I closed my eyes and held my breath.

“Why are you touching me? You haven’t….” I said in a rush.

“I’m not touching, I’m kissing. There’s a difference.”

“Not to me,” I sighed, my voice a little too airy to suit me; I’d much rather have sounded firm and resolved.

“So…if I do this,” he said, against the nape of my neck and cupped my right breast, rubbing it lightly through my nightgown. “It’s just the same as this?” He kissed my neck. I could barely move or breathe. He sucked up all the oxygen around me.

“Stop,” I said, and this time I made it sound convincing. He rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger with just enough pressure to make me feel it in my belly. “Please stop…Master,” I said through gently gritted teeth. To my surprise, he did actually stop.

He sat back and stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a few moments. Heat radiated from every part of my body, and my face must’ve been a deep, deep shade of red. He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned. I was really nervous, and I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t think of what it was. Abruptly, he threw his side of the sheet off to one side and stood up. My eyes were immediately drawn to the enormous erection straining against the fabric of his boxer shorts.

“Go back to sleep,” he said. He picked up his pants and shoved his legs into them.

“Where are you going?” I asked, nervous.

“Don’t fucking worry about it,” he said, and walked out the door.

Shocked, I watched him leave and gruffly shut the door behind him – but the shock stemmed from my desire to say something that would make him stop. Anxiety built up inside my stomach as I sat alone. All I could think about was my dream and how good it had felt to have him kiss me. What’s wrong with me!

I didn’t have too long to ponder my questions, or my body’s response to them. My door abruptly opened and Caleb walked in. Celia came in behind him wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties.

Caleb closed the door behind them gently, not in any hurry to address the question written all over my face: What the fuck is she doing here?

Celia had obviously been sleeping. Her hair was loose and gently disheveled. She stood silently, her hands covering her small breasts. She didn’t seem distressed, only a little shy and curious. It was a stark contrast from the night I’d seen her dominate Kid in front of a room full of strangers. I looked at her eyes, and when hers met mine I thought she gave just the slightest hint of a mischievous grin.

“Drop your arms,” Caleb said in Spanish. He didn’t speak it as well as English, but I was begrudgingly intrigued nonetheless. Celia immediately dropped her arms to her sides. Her nipples were already hard.

Caleb turned his attention to me, “You remember, Celia, don’t you, Kitten?” When I said nothing, he snapped, “Answer me!” Celia and I both jumped a little at the sharp sound of his voice.

“Yes, Master,” I replied.

“Good.” He smiled. “Because she’s going to help you understand something. I’m not yours to taunt. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you try to manipulate me. I invented that game.”

My mouth was agape. What the hell is he talking about? “Manipulate? I don’t–”

“You do!” he barked low. “One minute you’re pressing yourself against me, trying to…I don’t know. The next, you’re telling me – telling me, not to touch you.”

I wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous. How could I possibly be the one manipulating him when he was so thoroughly the master of my fate?

“Caleb, I–”

“Stop. Just watch,” he said.

My mouth went completely dry and anxiety coursed through me, burning inside my stomach. I looked into Celia’s eyes again. She smiled, just the tiniest quirk of her lips. A smile meant only for me. It shocked me.

Caleb stood behind Celia, and she shivered as he swept her hair over her left shoulder. “Don’t look away, or I promise I’ll find a way to punish you – injured or not,” He said to me. I swallowed hard. Caleb turned his attention to Celia, who seemed to be swaying gently in anticipation of his touch. He kissed up along her shoulder and her neck, just as he’d done to me. She let out a deep groan and tipped her head back against him. I couldn’t believe I was watching this.

“Do you like that?” he whispered into the dead silence of the room.

“Sí, Señor,” Celia whispered, in her breathy, accented voice.

My stomach knotted and I wanted to double over, yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he reached his arm around her and cupped her breast. She cried out as he massaged it, pulling her nipple between his fingers. Her nipples were a deep apricot and looked like hard raspberries perched on the gentle upward slope of her bosom. My face burned, and something vaguely familiar and unsolicited took up residence inside me. Celia’s moans grew a little louder. She made fists in the fabric of Caleb’s pants and pressed her backside into him.