It took a little while, but Jett and I finally cleared the air. My ego was bruised and so was my knee, but he never stopped pushing—for some reason he wanted to be friends with me. That was a tough concept. I was a loner. Still sort of am I guess. I didn’t have the most favorable upbringing; I bounced from foster home to foster home my entire life. Trust is hard to come by when you’re verbally and physically abused, starved and locked in closets at seven years old. Most of the time it felt like I was living with a wild pack of wolves. Everyone out for themselves, survival of the fittest. And even though Jett grew up with a loving mother and stable home, his life wasn’t much easier. He was a target; a black sheep because of the business his family was involved in. Growing up he fought for his life every day. In and out of hospitals, being treated for concussions and broken bones, after seven guys would gang up on him after school, smashing bottles over his head or breaking two or three of his fingers.
Seven to one? Those are some seriously fucked-up odds.
We had torture in common, and the same torment in our eyes. Except he was the trusting human and I was the untamed animal. He definitely helped shape the man I am today. He taught me about discipline and control. He opened my trust with loyalty, my mind with books, and my body with women. I was a virgin until I was nineteen. No lie. When I said I had trust issues, I wasn’t kidding. Especially when it came to women. Having your birth mother promise to come back and save you from the hell you’re living in, and then never hear from her again kind of fucks with a little boy’s head. So much so it ripples into adulthood.
Jett introduced me to the BDSM lifestyle and was my mentor in all aspects of sexual exploration and dominance. He is not just a business partner or good friend. He’s my brother, and the only true family I’ve ever had.
“Speaking of other things,” Jett hints. “Where is our Mexican house guest?”
“Slithering around the mansion like the snake he is.” I have eyes on him at all times. I know where he goes and whom he’s with, making sure he doesn’t slither within a mile of Ellie’s room. He asks about her every night.
“How’s your whore Kayne?”
I ignore him.
“When she’s ready I want a taste,” he antagonizes me.
Drop fucking dead, I want to say. Instead, I bite my tongue till it bleeds.
“What’s mine is mine,” is my only reply.
“Has he indicated when the meeting with El Rey will take place?” Jett inquires.
“No. He’s still feeling us out. He’s not stupid.” I cross my arms. “We just have to go on like normal and hope he finds everything kosher.”
“Well I hope he hurries up, and then slithers right into some oncoming traffic.”
“If everything goes as planned, amigo, he will.” We bump fists.
MY OBEDIENCE TRAINING HAS CONTINUED the last five nights. It’s always the same. Kayne comes to me as soon as the sun goes down.
He feeds me dinner with his fingers while I kneel between his legs. That’s why there’s only one chair at the table. He quizzes me with commands, making me roll over and sit up repeatedly. He forces me to lay down at his feet to rest. When I don’t obey or move quickly enough, he punishes me.
At times he’s ruthless. Other times he’s tender. Regardless of his mood, the night always ends the same. He ties me up and makes me come, afterwards asking if he can fuck me. When I refuse, he jerks off and marks me. He allows me to clean up then puts me to bed.
This is the vicious circle my life is becoming. Alone all day, misused at night. I’m nothing more than a pet to play with.
I hear the door click, and I immediately jump to my knees. He’s training me whether I want to admit it or not. My body reacts in spite of my brain’s objections.
“Evening, kitten.” He scratches me under my chin. “How was your day?”
“Boring.” I’ve learned the hard way he wants an honest answer to this.
“That’s a shame. We’ll have to do something to make up for that. Bend over I want to spank you.”
“Kayne, why?” I protest, and instantly know I fucked up. Shit.
He shakes his head at me, vastly disappointed. “That was a test kitten, and you failed. Miserably.”
“I’m sorry,” I immediately respond.
“Me too. But not really,” he gloats. He likes hurting me. The other night he chained me to the bed by the collar. Strategically placing it high enough so I was strained on all fours. Then he proceeded to spank me until I cried. Immediately after, he laid down, put his head between my legs and forced me to come. I was a limp nothing by the time he was done.
“Come, kitten. I’m going to teach you a lesson that will stick tonight.”
I balloon with fear. I watch, removed, as he unlocks my chain then drags me into the circular room. The one with the table of torture. We’ve never been in here before. I know tonight is going to be bad.
“Kayne, please,” I beg as he positions me between the stirrups of the table. He turns me around, smacks me hard on the ass then fastens each of my wrists in the straps. He’s so quick, and they’re so tight, the tears form before I even realize what’s happening.
“You don’t have to do this.” I tug, bent over.
“You need to learn to do as I say, without question, without hesitation.” He kisses my shoulder softly, sliding my hair over to one side.
“I’ll be good. I’ll behave,” I whimper.
“I know you will once I’m through with you. I’m going to quiz you so you don’t mess up again.” He squeezes my stinging behind. I think it’s been permanently stained red. “Then I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll pass out.”
My breathing is ragged, but as fearful as I am, the thought of Kayne’s mouth on me makes me instantly wet. My body altogether loves him and hates him. The past few days have broken down so many barriers it’s becoming harder and harder to refuse him. The things he can make me feel, the pleasure he can dispense, is unequivocal. And he’s only just used his fingers and tongue. I can’t begin to imagine what he can do with his body. He wants inside me. It’s no secret. But he’s never forced himself on me, or forced me to touch him. It’s bizarre and maddening all at the same time; it’s the ultimate mind game. Because he knows the moment I willingly surrender, I’ll truly be his. Irrevocably.
Kayne peels the white lacy panties Jett dressed me in down to my thighs.
My head spins.
I can’t see behind me, but I hear the crack against his hand from whatever object he’s chosen to use.
“Let’s review.” He walks in front of me holding the crop, his eyes a smoldering blue. My breathing slows. He positions the end of the crop under my chin and lifts my face. “I will ask you a question. You will provide me with the correct answer.”
“And you won’t hit me?”
“No. You’re getting spanked regardless. But as soon as you answer all the questions correctly, the spanking will cease.”
I quiver. Seeing the crop in his hand is terrifying. This is so bad.
He vanishes from my sight and the tears spill.
Whack! He hits me without any warning and I cry out. It stings and bites my bare skin all at the same time.
“Who owns you, Ellie?”
“You do,” I answer rapidly.
“Scream, kitten, so the whole house hears. I want everyone to know who owns you.”
Whack!
“You do!” I scream like he ordered me to.
Whack!
“When I tell you to kneel, what do you say?”
“Yes, Kayne,” I yell.
Whack!
“When I tell you to lie down and open your legs, what do you say?”
“Yes, Kayne.” I suck in a deep breath.
Whack!
“When I tell you to bend over so I can spank you, what do you say?”
“Yes, Kayne!” I choke out through sobs.
Whack!
“What do I want from you, Ellie?”
“My obedience.”
Whack!
“And?”
“My submission,” I cry uncontrollably.
Whack!
“And?”
“My body,” I wheeze, my legs nearly giving out.
I hear Kayne drop the crop then feel him wrap his arms around me delicately from behind.
“Shhhh, baby.” He kisses my hair as I sob. “You did so good.”
I tremble in his arms. My face is soaked and I swear my backside is broken and bleeding. My ass feels so raw. I hate him more in this moment than I have ever hated anyone in my entire life.
He holds me securely, raining soft kisses all over my face and neck until my sobs taper off. It doesn’t happen quickly. When I’m calm, he reaches over and opens one of the drawers beneath the table. I watch distantly as he pulls out a tiny silver bullet with a chain attached to the flat end.
“I’m going to make you come so hard,” he rasps, then brings the plug to my lips. I shiver, half with fear, half with lust. “Open.” I open my mouth. “Suck.” I close my lips around the cool metal and do as I’m told. When he tugs on the chain, I release it. He then kneels down behind me, spreads my cheeks, and licks my secret little buttonhole. I jerk forward.
“Ellie,” Kayne warns, and I know right then not to test him. When I feel the pressure at my back entrance, my head becomes light and my breathing becomes erratic. No one has ever touched me there.