In response, I get a plaintive whimper and the cutest scowl ever. Still, it won’t do to have a Doll scowling at me, so I take my time spanking her ass and reminding her of manners. The skin on her ass and thighs is a colorful masterpiece, fresh redness and new bruises melding with the old ones, narrow cane lashes crisscrossing the larger paddle marks in what is a true work of art, deserving to be displayed in a gallery. Not that I’d let anyone see Grace’s ass. I’d kill every single person who visited the gallery, so perhaps it’s not such a great idea.
I add a few more flowers to the ropes on Grace’s back before sliding a finger between her ass cheeks. After a week of training, her asshole is stretched nicely, and she moans as I circle the rim. I contemplate adding a flower there for good measure, but the cheap plastic has sharp edges, and I don’t want her hurt. I grab a plug instead, one with the base shaped like a heart. It’s not a flower, but it will do. Adding a bit of lube, I make quick work of inserting the plug into my whimpering mess of a Doll. She takes it effortlessly, moaning something about being too full, although it’s difficult to understand since she’s still holding the rose between her teeth.
Satisfaction spreads through me as I circle my new house decoration, adding or moving flowers here and there so thateverything is perfect. “So damn beautiful.” I definitely have a talent for art.
Originally, I planned to keep Grace here while I worked out, which is why I set her up here where I could watch her the whole time. But I have a feeling that unless I jerk off, there’s no workout in my near future. Running on the treadmill with an erection is immensely uncomfortable, not to mention distracting.
Reaching into my sweats, I grab myself roughly, squeezing the base of my cock to stave off the orgasm that’s coming too quickly. I want to savor my work. My beautiful Doll. All mine, forever. It brings a smile to my face, and I slowly stroke my cock, squeezing again just below the head.
Grace watches hungrily, and I can see her muscles work as she clenches around the dildo. It won’t help her. She can’t move, and without friction, she’ll just get increasingly frustrated and desperate, which works just fine for me. I love watching her squirm and hearing her whimper. She’s biting down on the flower in her mouth so hard that if it were a real one, she would have snapped it in half already, her eyes on my cock.
I give myself another long, lazy stroke. “Like what you see, Doll?”
She nods vigorously. “Mhm.”
“This is what you do to me.” Squeezing the tip, I run my thumb through the pre-cum, then smear it over her nipple. She whimpers and tries to lean into the touch, but the ropes and the dildo don’t let her move. “You drive me insane, Grace. I need you. All of you. Your pain and tears, your cries, whimpers, and moans. Your smiles and your sass, and your sweet submission. I want to consume you whole so that we could never be separated again. We will be apart, though, and I need you to promise me one thing.” I pull the flower from her mouth before grabbing her neck. I love that she doesn’t even stiffen when I squeezeher throat so hard I cut off her airflow. She accepts that her life belongs to me, and it’s the biggest fucking turn-on ever.
Keeping one hand on her throat, I stroke my cock with the other, all while keeping eye contact with my Doll. “I need you to do one thing for me, Grace. Just one thing. I need you to fucking stay alive. Do you understand? I don’t care what you have to do to survive, how many people you have to suck off or fuck. Just stay alive. For me. Because if you don’t, I will go into the fucking afterlife and drag your soul back here just so I could punish you for not following my orders. Do you understand?”
She squirms in my grip as she fights for air but nods when I repeat my question. Her wheezing gasps as I let go of her throat push me over and I come, my cum splattering all over Grace’s chest, coating the ropes and the flowers and finishing my arrangement. “So fucking beautiful,” I pant. “This is artistic as fuck.” Cum smears her cheeks as I grab her face. “Remember, Grace. Stay alive.”
“Yes, Mikhail,” she whispers before I crash my mouth against hers. She better fucking remember because I can’t lose her. When I pull away with a sigh, she looks at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Can I please come now, Master?”
“Absolutely not. I’m going to work out for a while, then I’ll make lunch. I might be around to add morefinishing sprayto my arrangement, but you just hang in there,” I say, grinning widely. “Enjoy being a decoration, Doll.” With that, I put the flower back into her mouth and head to my home gym. I figure I have a few minutes before my cock starts to get hard again, and I better put them to good use. I need to be in top shape for all the world-burning I have planned.
Chapter 31
Grace
Stay alive. Stay alive. Stay alive.
I repeat it to myself as whatever sleeping drug Mikhail gave me wears off and I wake up in a box. In a box! There’s no light, so I can’t see anything, but I’m lying on something soft, so the box is probably padded, like a coffin, which is not a comforting comparison. My ankles and wrists are tied to the sides of the box, and there are multiple straps running across my body to keep me in place. I smother a hysterical giggle wondering if there’s a ‘fragile’ or ‘this side up’ sticker on the box, or if some grumpy movers will flip me upside down. Mikhail assured me competent people handle product delivery, but no company uses its best and brightest as messengers.
I breathe in slowly. I can’t see them, but the box must have breathing holes, otherwise I would have been long dead by now. Judging by how thirsty I am and how badly I need to pee, I must have been asleep for quite some time. There’s nothing to be done about either of those things right now, though, so I try to stay calm and focus on replaying the memories from the past three days which were, without argument, the best days of my life.
Quite possibly the last days, too, my subconscious adds.You need to start thinking about escaping again.
Escape. I still wince even thinking that word. Mikhail had done a really good job of drilling into me that escape is not an option. However, he also told me to stay alive. If an opportunity arises and escape is my best chance to survive, should I take it? I really don’t want to disappoint my Master—Mikhail, not this sleazebag I’m being shipped to—but I doubt he still cares about the Doll brand, so he probably wouldn’t mind if I tarnished it by bashing someone’s head and running off.
It might be safer to stay put and play along, though, because these people are dangerous criminals. Mobsters. Mikhail didn’t give me details, and I didn’t ask. It was probably short-sighted of me, but I didn’t want to ruin my remaining time with him by worrying. He also didn’t explicitly promise he’d come to my rescue, but I kind of assumed that’s a given with all his claims that I’m his forever. Damn, I hope he comes to rescue me. I enjoy serving him, but I doubt I’ll feel the same about Sergei Chernov. I don’t think heads of Bratva families tend to be sweet and cuddly like my Master.
We’ve cuddled a lot over the past three days, and I already miss having his strong arms wrapped tightly around me. The tight confines of the box don’t give the same vibe.
Over the past few days, we’ve had a lot of sex and played a lot of “games”, most involving me tied up and in some form of pain. It was all good pain, and it was never too much for me tohandle. I got spanked in every thinkable spot and position with a wide array of tools. The riding crop on my clit was definitely my favorite, and I actually came just from those stinging licks, which prompted another, more painful round of spanking, because I hadn’t been given permission to come. I grumbled at Mikhail for that because I bet he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from coming if someone kept stimulating his cock, either. My protests earned me a cock in my throat, which is hardly a punishment for me.
As terrified as I was of electricity, it actually turned out to be quite interesting when Mikihail wasn’t using it for punishment. He has this handheld electric wand-like thing with various attachments, and we’ve had a ton of fun with it. Well, he had fun while I squirmed strapped to the table, trying to avoid getting that thing near my clit because even at the lowest setting the tingles were painfully intense. On the higher setting, well… Mikhail likes my screams.
I still can’t believe how much satisfaction it brings him to see me in pain. It probably makes him a bad person by normal standards, but I don’t care. What we have is as far from “normal” as possible but if it makes us both happy, there’s nothing wrong with it. Those are Mikhail’s words, which I repeat to that annoying voice from the back of my mind when it spews nonsense about leaving Mikhail. I’m never leaving him. Well, I’m being shipped away from him right now, but that’s only temporary. I hope. God, I hope it is.
We haven’t talked about the future. Or the past. I tried asking Mikhail about his parents, but he just gave me a look that promised the not-fun kind of pain if I didn’t shut up immediately, so I dropped it. I get the feeling his parents are either dead or he isn’t in touch with them, which is fine with me. I wish I could not be in touch with my parents. It probably makes me a bad person, too, but it’s true. Then I realize Mikhailwon’t let me stay in contact with my toxic parents, and a smile creeps on my face. I won’t have to go back to them again, and I won’t even have to feel bad about not contacting them because it won’t be my choice. It’s perfect. He’s perfect, and I can’t believe he wants me. I’m done doubting it, though, because the punishments are just not worth it.
The air in the box is hot and stuffy, my throat is parched, and my bladder feels like it’s going to burst. Mikhail told me not to worry, but I can’t help it. How am I supposed to not worry in this situation?
There’s a distant engine rumble I feel rather than hear as it vibrates through the bottom of the box. I’m in a van, most likely. Or a hearse. I snort at that. Wouldn’t that be just hilarious? Jesus, I’m going to lose my mind here. We stop then, the engine rumble fading into an oppressive silence.
It looks like we’ve arrived at our destination. Or the delivery guys are just taking a break. I hope not. I’m in no rush to meet Sergei Chernov, my hopefully temporary new Master, but I am in a rush to get out of this damned box and into a bathroom. Why did I drink that extra smoothie? Mikhail argued I might not get fed much and needed to keep my strength up, but who drinks a huge smoothie right before getting locked in a box? Stupid.
To my despair, the engine rumbles back to life and the car starts moving again. “Really?” I whine to no one in particular. “Come on!” I’d kick the box lid if my legs were free, but they’re not, so I just curse and complain and try to do anything in my power not to think about my full bladder which, naturally, only makes me think about it more.
