When the Dark Wins

“I will crawl when told to follow. I will ask permission to speak, to ask a question, to—”

The man’s smile widened as he dragged the dangerous metal across her lower belly, and then he adjusted his hold on the controls and pressed the tips against her folds.

“Oh, God, no, no! It says orgasm, it says ask permission to orgasm!” Beth tried to pull away from the prod, heels digging into the mattress, hands pulling on the ropes, but she couldn’t move more than an inch, and that inch was painful. Pulse pounding in the blood trapped in her feet. It didn’t matter anyway, he continued stroking her with the fucking cattle prod, grazing her clit, but there was no pleasure. There would be no pleasure here, and she knew that. His eyes were empty. Two hollow, icy caves. “Do you honestly think I’ll orgasm?”

“It happens sometimes.” The flippant response was just a confirmation, as if orgasms happened on accident. As if she might stumble into one and have to apologize. He’s psychotic. “It will be extraordinarily painful if I pull the trigger right now, slut.”

Her fear ratcheted up another notch, and she scrambled to speak, “I— I will wear no clothing, unless you provide it.”

“That’s right, although that one is more for whomever I sell you to. If you could find clothes in this house, I’d be quite impressed.” He removed the prod from between her legs and she sagged against the mattress in relief... until he brushed it across a nipple. Poking at the tightening bud with one of the prongs. She felt frozen as she watched, breath held in her lungs. A tsk’ing sound left him, but she opened her mouth too late.

The bright flash nearly blinded her, so close to her face as she snapped back from the wash of agony. Crying, screaming, cursing she tried to blink away the multi-colored blotches in her vision.

“Slave, I will put the cattle prod away as soon as you read the last two rules.”

4

The girl had read the final two lines of the poster at such a panicked pace that he couldn’t help but be a little proud of how quickly she’d come around.

Cattle prods could do that though… when it came to slaves electricity was always effective.

Red blotches bloomed on her skin from the places he’d struck, but they would heal quickly. Never helpful to mar the merchandise. The customers wanted to watch because she was pretty. One of them would buy her because they liked to look at her. Ruining that for his own fun would be pointless.

She was crying quietly, cursing under her breath. Likely cursing him.

Not like he cared.

The glare she’d given him after he’d shocked her other breast promised that the fire wasn’t out inside her. Yet. But he had wanted to even out the color on her small chest. To make them match, and to hear her scream again.

Because this one screamed so prettily.

As he replaced the cattle prod on the wall he contemplated hurting her for breaking the second to last rule: You will thank your Master for all punishments.

But... it hadn’t truly been a punishment. More of a painful educational session. And he was always honest with the slaves about his expectations, and the consequences for disobeying.

There were other ways of making her suffer tonight anyway.

The heavy strain of his cock was uncomfortably distracting now, and that meant it was time to reward his patience and give her a different kind of lesson.

Returning to the bed he appreciated how she flinched, already associating his presence with pain. Which was exactly as it should be. She needed to accept who was in charge, accept who held all the power, and the next step of their first evening together would illustrate that perfectly.

Anthony sat down beside her again, tracing the welt near her hipbone. Her eyes were squeezed tight, possibly trying to ignore his touch, possibly trying to obey the last rule: You will keep your eyes down at all times unless directed. But he liked the way her brown eyes glistened with tears, and that meant he wanted them open.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and she obeyed instantly. Eyelids snapping open as she panted, pulse flickering at her neck just below the collar. “Good.”

“I can’t… I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“You’d be surprised what you’re capable of surviving.” His words sounded comforting to his own ears, but her chest jerked with a sob that she managed to suppress. Such a pretty sight, tear streaked and tied down. Moving his hand lower he brushed between her thighs and she whined, eyes clenched tight again. “Eyes,” he corrected, and they opened.

Obedience was its own drug, but the fix wasn’t enough.

There was strength in her she wasn’t even aware of yet, a challenge for him to push against, to see just how much she could take before she broke and was no longer interesting.

Dragging his middle finger between her folds he watched her face, fear making her shake. Her cunt wasn’t wet, which was slightly disappointing, but perhaps she didn’t respond well to electricity.

There were other things to try. Tomorrow.

Pushing his finger inside her brought the sweetest sound from her lips. Desolate and resigned. Another piece of her hope dying right before his eyes.