Be Careful What You Wish For (25 page)

New strange sensations savaged past thoughts from her mind, lifting, separating, holding then dropping her suddenly down. Even as she gasped, desperate to draw breath, it took her again, up to a place she had never visited before. This was new. This was different. For moments she was afraid; afraid to simply let go and let be. She couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't touch, couldn't feel. All she knew was that moment in time.

It was the pain-pleasure experience which numbed and shocked the system.

Past fused with present, folding and unfolding, teasing, tantalising, gradually peeling away to the raw wounds beneath. She remembered a different time, a different place. She was confused by the memory, the pain... falling... blind, helpless, gasping, gagging, to a deep and dark space within. Memories came together, over which she had no control; jarring, grating, holding, hurting, unwilling to let her go.

Each experience he brought to her now was new, exciting, scary, edgy, leaving her breathless, and yet each time she craved more, yet different, reaching out to explore, to touch, to feel, to know every emotion, and to have every feeling twisted and used in whatever way he pleased. She was giving herself to him.

It was his way. He was mind-fucking; climbing right inside her head. Her body was speaking to him in a language only he understood.

She was still trying to catch her breath when something else followed. She couldn't see. She didn't know... pain or pleasure, pleasure or pain? It hung on a whisper. She had no time to wrap reason around it; it was just there, savaging thought from mind, holding for the longest moment...

Strange new sensations flooded her body. She gasped, desperate to draw breath, but he took her again and again; the pain-pleasure experience.

Now he controlled her feelings, knew every emotion as his own. Somewhere along the line they had merged and become One.

He also had her thoughts, twisting, turning, manipulating the way she viewed things until she no longer knew. Coaxing her this way, then that, he was finally trapping her in that place where he wanted her to be. And she was helpless, vulnerable, open, aching, reaching, yearning, craving for more. She had never let go, never been so completely open, giving control to another of her own free will, never felt so carried away by the rawness of emotion that flowed through her, catching hold, carrying her in a cross tide of ebbs and flows.

She whimpered, moaned, murmured, and then with an occasional sharp intake of breath, waves carried her to another dimension. What else could she do, tied, held, controlled, helpless, taking the pain or the pleasure of his choosing? Master of her mind, Captain of her soul, he could continue like this indefinitely. He knew pain. He understood the psychology of the mind and just how far to take her. Now he was pushing the boundaries to a place where only she and he might go.

He alone knew the path, and yet he too was suddenly on a deep learning curve. Every slave was different. No two experiences are ever the same. It was about living on the edge and daring to go further.

Weird and wonderful images caught in the shafts of delight sprayed suddenly across her vision as he sank his cock further and further. Her body shuddered, heart racing, pulse roaring as something ripped through her body, shredding her nerves, jabbing, twisting, aching, grinding, gripping, catching her off guard, reaching from a different place in a different way to bring her innermost cravings and needs to the surface; needs that had been hidden too deep too long.

He shifted the emphasis suddenly and deliberately, without warning, upsetting the balance. Her mind reeled with the assault. What was he doing? Where was he going? What had his hands placed there? He didn't guide her any more, he simply took control.

Her senses had nothing to hold on to, no place to hide, to escape the driving force pushing and surging and carrying her on. Helplessly she was being driven by a flow of energy which danced to an unfamiliar melody, touching and stroking, then paining the pleasure that had been.

Less often now he stroked and caressed away her fear with whispered reassurances in her ear, smoothing her hair, wiping away her tears. Less and less she felt fear, but rather followed where he led. He had taken control. Through pain and pleasure she was right there with him, not knowing, not caring any more, carried by the tide of emotion on which she rode like a surfer on the crest of a wave.

And ever nearer he could sense that need riding its way to the surface... soon he would grab hold, then finally she could be free.

He had fucked every orifice, not once, not twice, but until he was satiated and fulfilled. She didn't need to be tied any more. The mind-fuck had worked. She was his completely, in every possible way; mind, body, spirit, soul, to do with as he pleased.

Pain seared through her breasts. Marks of pegs patterned in a range of different colours. Now these gave way to needles, used in the same way as acupuncture. They didn't hurt, in fact quite the reverse, she found them calming, soothing, folding away the pain. Rope binding still twisted beneath each, raising them, two firm balls of flesh with nipples clamped tight. It was the pain of having them taken away that hurt most, as he released her from her outward bonds.

But then what of her mind, her thoughts, past images, past pain? Had a channel been opened through the confusion of pain-pleasure experience for it to pass away from her, like water down a drain, no longer needed, leaving him to explore without it getting in his way?

Her body relaxed. She had given herself completely to him in trust, to do with as he pleased, his way.

As everything was removed from her pinpricks of pain awakened, renewed, aroused, adding a range of sensual feelings to the now gentle touch he offered. His hands were smoothing, caressing, reassuring, where before they had been clasping, twisting, hurting. Instinctively her hips rose off the bed, satiated and yet aroused as fingers once more entered her cunt. He lay beside her, tender now as sadist gave way to sub, holding her close, ready to take her as his own.

 

‘Dream Catcher told you not to touch me, not to come near me!' Abi spewed the words, each filled with outrage, confusion, pain.

‘What are you saying?'

She hadn't meant to blurt out the words, but she was angry and upset.

‘Come on, you can't suddenly say something like that without the evidence to back it up. Besides, you enjoyed every bit of what happened, that was obvious.'

Shadow was goading her, playing with her. Everything about him screamed at her to be careful. He was dangerous. But she felt stripped of dignity and self-respect, and she was also angry at herself, for allowing him to treat her like that, to take her that far.

‘I'm going to tell Dream Catcher when he returns. You can't get away with what you've just done to me.'

Even to her it sounded like tittle-tattling to a teacher. Shadow laughed, and in his laugh she heard the maliciousness, the sheer evil; he was enjoying even this, having her as a sparring partner.

‘But that's my job. You are my slave. You do as you're told. You don't have any say in the matter. Remember?'

‘But it's not the way it's supposed to be. I heard you talking... I know, okay? You were in the cage and he told you things were going to be different. He said to stay away from me. Do you remember that?'

The instant the words were out she knew she shouldn't have said them. Far better to have kept quiet and wait for Dream Catcher's return. But then, how long was that going to be? And how much could she actually endure and survive? Shadow was acting as if he alone were in charge and that he had nothing to lose in his treatment of her. Besides, it had never been this bad. And it was because Dream Catcher was away that he could do this. Somehow his perception was that she had enjoyed it, that her screams were of ecstasy and not horror. She'd said ‘no' in so many different ways, and he needed to believe she had enjoyed it to make it right.

The silence that grew between them spoke volumes. She could tell by his body language he was angry.

‘If you can't accept your enjoyment of what we have just shared, then consider it a punishment for playing with yourself without permission.'

Again he had that ability to shock and confuse just as she thought she'd got an angle on the situation.

‘How? I mean, when...?'

‘You saw the cage, the Dungeon, you heard the words. I watched you play with yourself as I have many times. Dream Catcher punished me for not stopping you, for not administering punishment when you knew it was wrong. So you had this coming, although I still say you enjoyed it. You're simply in denial. Perhaps it shocks you that you would want to go that far.'

It was useless trying to talk to Shadow when he was in this mood. But then again, he was giving away the fact that there were cameras in more places than she knew. It made so much sense; he and Dream Catcher had known everything about her because they could see her even when she believed she was alone. She didn't know if she could trust either of them again.

There seemed so much else going on. She was living in the same house, and yet she still didn't know what was happening, much less how the peculiar relationship worked between Dream Catcher and Shadow.

 

 

She knew!

He didn't know how she knew, she just did. Somehow she had seen him on camera with Richard in the dungeon, heard their words. When did she do that, and how? What did she actually know? Had she listened to part of the conversation or the whole? And did she know the words that made him feel so insecure?

There had never been a point in his life before when he had lost control. He was a problem solver. He always had answers. To every problem there was a solution, and therefore there was no problem. Emotion had never got in the way of his decision making. Without a thought he'd always been able to cut to the chase.

But now he didn't have enough information to go on, and he couldn't ask her without giving away some degree of control. Besides, that would be telling her his dilemma, the fact that he was unsure.

No, he had to work with his own resources, and find a way through. There was one, he was sure.

Shit, shit, shit! How had this happened?

Events had overtaken him and he hadn't even seen them coming. He had thought his future secure, that he and Richard would continue just as they had always done. Sure, there were times he would be away from the island, like now, and it was during those times when the sadist within him could come to the fore. He didn't have a problem with that, and neither should she. She should simply be doing as she was told. Besides, she was in denial. She enjoyed the shock tactics; everything about her screamed ecstasy and wanting more, and he was only too willing to oblige. They worked well together. Meanwhile, Richard could continue to be Master. He need never know. Usually he was able to hold his sadism in check. That wasn't a problem.

Until now.

Now he was pissed off with Richard. He'd betrayed him. He'd waited until he'd moulded the girl into a slave, and then was ready to ditch him and take the reward of his labours. He was certain that was what was happening, especially when he returned and Pandora told him the way she was threatening to do.

There was no way of keeping Richard from seeing Pandora. At some point soon they were going to come together, and the shit was going to hit the fan. There was no way of stopping it...

Or was there?

He'd done it before, he could do it again.

Slowly a plan began to form.

 

 

The assaults kept coming. They were happening more and more, and they came suddenly and usually when least expected, as if the element of surprise and shock were a part. Shadow's sexual appetite was ferocious, but then so was his need to cause pain. More than punishing her, the beast in him seemed to be taking over and there was no doubt now that he was a sadist. But then again something more, something else, because there were those times when he seemed to be punishing himself, or rather, want her to do that for him. He seemed to have a craving to know the sensations of both pleasure and pain as his own.

Why did he goad her and then switch to become... what?

She didn't know. It had become a game, and he the Games Master. Always he was the one in control, whether wanting the pain or giving it. He made up the rules as he went along, and then changed them ad hoc when he felt like it, or when the mood made it so.

He also seemed keyed up, spurred on by something else, something she couldn't understand at all. For no apparent reason he would burst out laughing, a heartless laugh that set her nerves on edge, wondering what might follow.

She'd tried to climb inside his mind so many times, to second guess, to understand the needs of Shadow as a Master. But she had failed, just as he was failing her.

Or had he?

More and more she spent time away from the house, choosing to nestle in that special place she had found between the rocks on the beach. She was paranoid. Since discovering that seeing the dungeon and Shadow in the cage was real and not part of a dream, constantly she looked for cameras.