My cane.
My watch.
Mysinner.
I ripped the blankets from her sleeping form, causing her to jerk awake and scrambled back.
Her widened hazel eyes met mine, and the panic immediately shifted to irritation. An emotion she was more outwardly expressing now, which I found pride in. That didn’t mean I accepted her irritation, I was simply satisfied that she was able to express such emotion now.
She settled back into the pillows, her tits bouncing with each move, the bandages pulling, her hair wild.“What?”
She wouldn’t even wear it in a full braid to bed. If her hair wasn’t mostly loose, she wasn’t happy, and I was fine with that. She looked far better with it down and wild, mimicking the spirit within her then she did with it up.
“Get up, back to me,” I ordered her, stepping away from the bed.
Her lips flattened for half a second before her expression smoothed out. I could still see the irritation living under her skin, but I didn’t think she would ever break the habit of that emotionless expression.
She pushed the blankets back and stood, her perfect pink nipples already hard, her thighs flexing.
I wondered what kind of excitement she would get from this. She craved the sharp pain of biting, twisting, pinching, slicing, and slapping, but burning? Melting her skin? I held doubts that this would be anything but painful for her. Still, it was something that had to be done.
She turned her back to me, glancing over her shoulder, her pupils blown, her body willing.
I placed a handcuff on each wrist, tightening them down to give her little room to squirm this time. “No sex today, little sinner,” I hummed, noting how her shoulders fell an inch as she turned back to the wall. “It’s something much worse.”
Her shoulders instantly lifted and she looked back, trying to meet my eyes expectantly.
My good little whore.
I walked to her front, taking her in. The way her perfect tits bounced with each breath, pushed out only slightly from the way her arms were placed. In the week I had had her, very little of the marks I had left on her had yet to begin their healing process. To anyone on the outside, she would look abused, but by the light in her eyes, the clear need for touch, it was very obvious how needy she truly was.
I lifted my hand, gently taking her chin, watching her melt at my touch. I knew how much she craved my touch. Soft or painful, it didn’t matter. Once my skin touched hers, she couldn’t help herself. She was putty in my hands.
I searched her eyes before my gaze fell to her lips. Soft, plump, and the same color as her nipples, although she didn’t knowthat. “Today, you will be branded,” I began, watching as her lips parted. It was one of her favorite things to do, watch my lips while I spoke. “Labeled as mine forever so that the entire world knows that you are not to be touched. Branding,” I went on softly, “is the process of putting a red-hot iron against your skin, melting and scarring that skin so deeply that my brand will never disappear.”
Fear flooded her eyes, and she shifted on her feet, an impossible imperceptible shake of her head telling me that she truly feared that pain.
I ran my thumb gently across her bottom lip, her lips parting again, a breath escaping, that fear shifting to need. “My world demands a sacrifice, and this is it.” I watched her parted lips for a long time before my eyes found hers. “Do you remember what I told you on Monday?”
Her left eye narrowed ever so slightly before she nodded, my thumb slipping up over her bottom lip, nearing the inside of her pretty little mouth.
It caused my own cock to throb, although it had been hard since I settled with the idea of branding her as mine. “Tomorrow, we go to church,” I told her, watching the fear flash through her eyes, fighting with the lust she felt as she moved her lips slightly, trying to coax my thumb into her mouth without me knowing. “Tomorrow evening, we begin a version of your training. We unlock that pretty little psycho inside of you, and we unleash you into the world to exact whatever vengeance you deem necessary.”
Her spine straightened, the pulse in her neck picking up. I could see the visible difference within her since I took her off the SSRIs. She was more confident in her actions, her step had a hop, her smile was now wide and wild, but she needed another push. She would thrive in a world where her body was a weapon. Just like mine.
Her eyes turned black, her mouth opening a little wider, her body leaning towards mine.
I knew she wanted more. Despite her exhaustion, she was insatiable. But Red was already standing in the lobby, being watched after by Alaric, and I didn’t want her here for longer than she had to be.
So, I gave my girl what she wanted. I shoved my thumb into her mouth, shivering at the way her eyes rolled back. Even the idea of sucking cock made her skin turn green, but she loved sucking on my fingers. I think it was the way she was able to look me in the eye while doing it. Her tether to my world, my taste on her tongue. I can understand that. A body craves what it craves, despite trauma. This was just her way of adapting.
I pressed her tongue down, feeling her body fight to touch mine, watching her cheeks hollow, her perfect pouty lips wrapped tightly around my thumb.
I never cared much for cock sucking. I’d much rather shove my cock into her ass and cunt before her mouth, so losing it wasn’t a loss to me, but watching her face while she did this?
My own lips parted, feeling her naked body hovering closer to mine, my cock throbbing. I had half a mind to have Alaric take Red to the basement so I could have my time with my sinning doll, but I couldn’t waste any time.
She needed the brand to protect herself from The Family. I couldn’t risk losing her because I was hungry.
