“So, you ready for your gift?” Ravi smirks.
I look over at my friend and grin, following him back below deck. If there is one thing I can be sure of, it’s that Ravi’s gifts never disappoint.
* * *
I enterthe master cabin which is covered in mirrors with no windows. I catch sight of my reflection, shutting the door behind me. A pretty little toy kneels on the floor blindfolded. I circle her, taking in her curvaceous body clad in nothing but a pair of white panties. Her large, taut breasts heave as she takes nervous breaths, and her long blonde hair hangs down her back, ending just above her ass. She’s not from around here. She can’t possibly be older than eighteen. Her porcelain skin is smooth, and I want nothing more than to taint it. I pick up a leather whip from the toys laid on a table, crack it, and watch her reaction to the sound. She lets out a breath, her shoulders trembling slightly.
“Where are you from?” I ask as I watch goosebumps spread across her skin at the sound of my voice. I have always had that effect on women. They don’t need to see me, and they’re always wet and needy like I bet this one is. Some try to fight it. Some are defiant, but eventually, they all bow. It’s why I’m not interested in getting attached. I have all these toys at my disposal.
“Florida.” Her voice is smooth as silk, but there’s a tremble in it. She can’t see me, and she has no idea what to expect, which must terrify her. Fear is the master of the unknown.
I cannot count the number of women who’ve kneeled before me like this. I don’t know their names, and there were many times I didn’t see their faces. But their fear, their pain, that’s the same. They’re all caged little birds who’ve had their wings clipped. And when I’m done with them, they’ll never fly again. That gives me satisfaction, the knowledge that it was me who took away their freedom.
“Are you afraid, little bird?” My voice is a whisper.
She shakes her head, her chin rising slightly in defiance. She’s can deny her fear, believe that nothing will touch her, the parts that matter at least. Her soul. I know the truth though, and I enjoy the thrill of breaking the spirits of the defiant ones the most, the certainty that I can take whatever it is that I desire from them, because I can. Because I am me. They fall at my feet, it’s always the same.
I bring the whip down on the skin of her breasts in one quick motion, the leather leaving a red trail across her skin. She yelps, bending at the waist but instantly pulling herself up.
“You’ll use your words, yes? Always use your words. Every time you obey, I reward you, and if you don’t, I hurt you.” Her nipples pebble despite the pain I know she feels. “Understood?”
She nods again, earning her another slash over her flat stomach. She swallows. “Yes, I understand.” Her voice is soft, gentle. She’s beautiful. Even with the lace blindfold I can’t help but admire her pouty pink lips, her olive skin.
I lift the glass of bourbon, which rests on a small table. I see the last remnants of fizz from whatever Ravi put into my drink. He believes I need theextra, theescape. I don’t. I never have. This is a part of me. It is something I haven’t shared with anyone, not even my best friend. Because I don’t understand it myself.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I remove my t-shirt and place the whip beside me. I take a moment to look at myself, and all I see is a monster hiding beneath the façade of what a popular magazine calls ‘the sexiest bachelor alive’. This woman is in a room with a monster, and she doesn’t even realize it.
“Stand. Dance for me.” She rises with the ease of a ballerina. I press a button on the remote, turning on the music. Something slow and sultry starts, and her hips begin to sway in a hypnotic motion. She’s perfection, a sweet little birthday treat. Her hands sway above her head as she leans against the stripper pole, clasping it, then sliding down the pole and up again. A leg wraps around the pole, and she starts to grind against it. She stops and starts to move tentatively toward me, “That’s it, come all the way to me.” I say in a low tone.
She follows my voice, her hands caressing her body. I’m practically bursting at the seams at the sight of her. She may mean nothing to me, but I’m a man, and I have needs. Needs this pretty little thing will be begging to fulfill in just a few minutes. When she’s close enough, I grip her hips with both of my hands, my fingers digging into her soft flesh as I bring her onto my lap. Her hands cautiously run over my pecks, and she sucks in a breath when she feels my erection pressing into her. How I wish I could see her eyes. I squeeze her breasts, kneading as she starts to grind against me. I lean down and take a nipple in my mouth and suck on it, gently at first, and then I bite down. She cries out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. I run my tongue over her nipple again. I continue the torture of licking and biting until her nipples are red and sensitive until she’s writhing on my lap, grinding against me, moans falling from her lips.
I wrap a hand around her slender throat, tightening until tears stream down her cheeks. “Don’t stop moving.” She tries to suck in a breath, but her oxygen supply is slowly dissipating. “That’s it, cry for me.”
I don’t know what it is, but inflicting this kind of pain on women is a thrill for me. Maybe it’s a sickness. Whatever it is, their tears and protests are like a drug for me, an aphrodisiac. I let go of her neck, and she gasps for breath, leaning her forehead against my chest.
“Stand,” I command, and she does as she’s told, albeit unsteadily. I rip off her panties and throw them aside. She cries out at the sting. The sight of her cleanly shaven masterpiece has my erection straining against my jeans.
“Now, you’re going to sit.” She gasps as she lowers herself onto two of my fingers. She’s soft and wet. Her moans fill the room as she grinds against my hand. I purposefully let my fingers press against her clit for maximum pleasure. “You won’t come, not now, not until I say.” With my other hand, I reach for my switchblade and place the cold metal against her breast. She stills.
“What…what is that?”
“Did I tell you could stop, that you could ask questions, little bird?” My voice is calm as I press the tip against her skin. She shivers, crying softly, but carries on moving her hips in a rhythm. Soft moans escape her trembling lips, a clear sign that she’s frightened. A press the blade into her breast, and a small droplet of blood trickles down. The sight of it has me lifting my hips, so my erection meets her wet core. I run the knife down between her breasts, knowing it must sting, because she cries out, and she stills, tears slipping from her eyes, beneath the blindfold.
“Please.” she pleads. They’re usually so fucked, they don’t care what I do to them. Apparently, this one isn’t.
The girl tries to stand, but I hold her hips in place. “Shh.” I coax. “We’re just playing.”
Ravi enters, and I grin at him. He makes his way closer to us.
“It hurts.” She sobs softly.
“All good things do, sweetheart.” I snicker.
Ravi laughs, and she turns in my lap at the sound, tugging off her blindfold. Her eyes dart from me to him. “What’s going on? They said it would just be one.”
“We can do anything we like, now that you’ve decided to misbehave. I didn’t tell you to take off that mask, did I?” I hiss in her ear, as Ravi steps forward and grips her hands, binding them behind her back. She struggles, and I press the blade to her neck. “I told you I like good girls.”
“I’ll behave, I swear.”
