Buy My Soul (Sixty Days 2)

“Ok…” she lied, then reconsidered. “Well, I’ll survive but it hurts. Everything hurts.”

“It’ll hurt a touch more before it eases a little,” I told her, before closing the distance and scooping her back up for a second time.

She was statue still as I lowered her into the water. She made a few whimpers but nothing more as the bubbles ate her up, settling back against the tub with her eyes closed tight.

I watched.

I watched her breaths. The prettiness of her slightly parted lips and the pit of her eyebrows. The fan of her elfin brown hair against the white porcelain behind her.

She was so small. So fragile. So hurt.

So fucking beautiful.

It felt like a lifetime since I’d thought of any woman as beautiful.

Cute. Sexy. Slutty.

Pretty.

Whorish.

Filthy.

All of them had their place, but not there. Not in that bathroom with that broken little creature so exposed in her pain.

I knelt down beside her and smoothed some of the hair back from her forehead. “The water will work some magic,” I said, and her smile was ridiculously grateful considering I’d been the one to hurt her so fucking bad.

“Thank you,” she said and there was that pause again. “Thank you, master.”

I could have kissed her all over again. Mashed my mouth to hers and claimed her without restraint. I could have kissed every broken part of her with a broken part of me I hadn’t faced in years.

I did nothing, just watched.

She was still, her breaths easing slowly. Her eyes fluttered before opening fully, blinking once, twice before her gaze landed right on mine.

“Sorry, master,” she said, but didn’t look away. “I know I’m not supposed to… stare… to look at you…”

“I think I can forgive a few little misdemeanours after that performance,” I replied, and hated the way I smiled.

I didn’t hate the way she smiled back.

“It’s getting easier… in the water…” she said. “The heat is good… nice…”

“Bed will be nice too,” I told her. “The morning not so much, but it’ll be an easy day for you.”

“Will you be there? In bed, I mean. Tonight…”

I should have said no. I should have said I had work to be getting on with. That she was lucky to have the comfort of such a luxurious resting place given the contract she’d signed her name to.

I said nothing and she didn’t push for an answer, just looked down at her knees rising up from the bubbles.

“It’ll get so much worse than tonight, won’t it?” she asked. “That was just a taster, wasn’t it?”

Under normal circumstances I’d have been brutally honest. Forthcoming with the horror of the details. Of the way the beatings would get more severe as the days turned to weeks. How I’d stretch her to her limits in every one of her orifices. How I’d use and abuse her and leave her as a dirty little slut who hung on my every word and whim without control of their own actions.

And then on further to how I’d let the rest of the world’s filth in for their turn.

Their seedy fucking turns on top of an ocean of previous punishment.

“Don’t worry about anything but recovering from day two,” I told her, and she took a breath.

“You’ll make sure I’m ok at the end, won’t you? I’ll be ok to take care of my sister when I’m done with the sixty days? You promise?”

I never made positive promises. Mine were always promises of payback or comeuppance, uttered in hostile circumstances with gritted teeth.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been asked for such an honest assurance in such intimate circumstances.

“My sister needs me…” she continued. “I know I’m not allowed to talk about her, and I’m not asking anything for her… I just need to know…”

“You’ll be ok at the end,” I told her. “Your feet will be back on the sandy beach with an ocean of cash to set you up for the next few years.”

She nodded. “Thanks. Then I don’t care if tonight was just a taster. I’ll take it.”

“But not tonight,” I remarked, and held out a hand for hers.

I pulled her up and out of the bath with little strain, being careful as I draped a towel around her shoulders. I gestured to the basin and she brushed her teeth with steadier legs, taking a decent swig of water before turning off the tap and returning her attention to me.

I despised myself for stripping off my clothes as she finished up towelling and slipped into bed. I despised myself for brushing my own teeth and washing myself clean in the freshly vacated bathroom without even checking my mobile for fresh bidders.

I despised myself even more for the way my heart pounded as I slipped naked into bed beside her and flicked out the lights with the moon shining bright through the window.