Carnage: A Dark Revenge Romance

I lie on the closet floor, still shaking with my hands cuffed behind my back and a plug in my ass. I’m exhausted, and my ass is sore.

I had no clue you could get off on just a butt plug, but my body did. I didn’t even think about modesty or embarrassment once it started to vibrate. It was degrading, and my body liked it.

“Ashtyn?” my mom calls out.

I sit up, my ass on my legs, and clench my teeth not to moan at the way the plug pushes deeper into me.

Shit! She’s early? How do I explain I’m cuffed and naked while wearing a butt plug in my closet?

“Ashtyn?” she snaps.

I turn around to where my back is to the box and tip it over to drop the key to the handcuffs. Then I scoot over closer to the mirror, stifling a moan. Fuck, this plug shouldn’t feel this good.

Looking in the mirror over my shoulder, I try to get the key in the lock but drop it.

Fuck!

“Ashtyn, where are you?” she barks, and my pulse races. She’s going to see me.

Taking a deep breath, I tell myself to calm down and try again. Moving to lie on my back, I bring my knees to my chest and slide my hands down my legs so they’re at least no longer behind me. Now, I can see what I’m doing. I pick up the key and slide it into the lock, then I twist it. The left one pops open. I quickly undo the right, then toss them and the key along with the lube into the box I found them in and shove it under some clothes I have folded on the floor.

I stand and almost fall over due to being down on my knees for so long. The blood still rushes to my feet. I grab the towel, not caring that it’s got lube on it and wrap it underneath my arms and tuck it into itself.

My door swings open, and I jump back with a scream as my mom enters my closet. “I’ve been hollering at you. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I, uh, sorry. Had my earbuds in.” I lie, trying to calm my breathing. I look like I just got off. My skin’s flushed, and body trembling. I can feel the lube and cum that covers my ass and thighs. Plus, I have rug burns on my knees from when I rocked back and forth while fucking myself with my fingers and the plug.

She looks me over and tilts her head to the side. “You’re not ready. We need to leave in fifteen minutes.”

Have I been in here that long? “I’ll be ready,” I assure her.

Her eyes drop to the chair, and she frowns. “Why is this in here?”

“I needed it,” I say defensively. Why does it matter? This is my house, and I’m a twenty-one-year-old adult. If I want to put a chair in my closet, then I can.

“For what reason?” She goes on.

Looking up, I search for an excuse. I know I’m running out of time, and she won’t quit asking. “I needed to use it to reach the top shelf.”

She looks me up and down. “Hmm.”

I pull the towel tighter around myself. Surely, she won’t tell me to remove it and bend over. Could you imagine if she knew I just uncuffed myself? It would just add to her thoughts that I’m a sex addict and make for very awkward therapist sessions.

“Get ready. We’re leaving in thirteen minutes now.” She grabs the chair and pulls it from the closet, slamming the door shut.

I let out a shaky breath and drop to my knees once more. My body trembles, and my ass clenches around the plug. Jesus!

“Ready?” my mother calls out, entering my room once more exactly thirteen minutes later.

“Yeah,” I answer and exit. I don’t even grab my cell. I have nowhere to put it or any use for it tonight.

“Ashtyn—”

“Can we not do this, Mother?” I say as she gets on the highway. “I’m not in the mood.”

She lets out a huff but thankfully remains silent. Thirty minutes later, we’re pulling up to Carnage.

The Lords have a cathedral in the middle of nowhere where they perform all their sick and twisted rituals, but Carnage also has one. It’s a smaller version. This is where they perform theirs. I guess I can thank God because not all the Lords will watch me get fucked for the first time. Just a select few. Most of the Lords who attend Barrington will be at the other location tonight.

My mother brings the vehicle to a stop in the roundabout and turns off the car. “Ashtyn…”

“Goodbye, Mother.” I mean it in more ways than one. I’m aware that I may never see her again.

I get out and slam the door shut. We’ve never had a close relationship, so I’m not sure why she seems to care what happens to me now. She knew when she got pregnant that she might have a daughter, and this would one day happen.

As I walk up the steps, my legs shake in my six-inch heels. I run my sweaty hands down my bare thighs, taking in a deep breath.

This is it. They tell us from a young age that this is what we’re made for—to serve a Lord. We should feel privileged to be a chosen. I don’t feel that way. Do I want Saint? Yes. But I want him more than someone who I know has to devote his life to a secret society that thinks I’m worthless.

I’ve seen Lords drop their chosens, or their wives for the Lords without thought. They don’t marry for love. They marry for convenience. To merge names that will give them more power. And then the Lady is supposed to give them children. A son to rule the world or a daughter who will one day serve.

The sad part is that I would give Saint a child and that makes me a sick person knowing what they’re born into. I would expect my kids to hate me as I hate my parents.

As I enter the double doors, a man stands in a tuxedo. He’s been helping Carnage out for years. I can only imagine some of the shit he’s seen.

“Hello, miss.” He nods to me as if I haven’t known him my whole life.

“Hello, Jessie,” I whisper.

“This way, ma’am. They’re waiting for you.”

My heels clap on the floor as I follow him to the elevator and up to the fifth floor. My legs shake and my breathing accelerates as he comes up to another set of double doors. They’re stained glass with black roses and skulls all over them. They’d be beautiful if not for the meaning.

He pushes them open, and I wish I’d had more to drink as I enter. Six rows deep of pews are full of Lords. They all face forward, dressed in black cloaks, and their signature masks cover their faces. The thought that my father and brother are among them makes me sick to my stomach.

The lights are dimmer, and candles are placed on sconces along the back wall, framing a stained glass window. It’s not for religious purposes. The Lords don’t gather here to worship any god other than themselves. Instead, the window has a black spade in the center with flames around it as if giving it the image it’s on fire. The numbers 666 are written across the bottom. A large Lords altar is at the front of the room.

The box that was on my bed three weeks ago is now in the center of the altar. I make my way down the aisle, and a man stands next to it. It’s Saint, but I can’t see his face.

He turns to open the box and pulls out the cuffs, laying them out on the surface. I come to a stop, and his voice commands. “Undress.”

This is the part of what he said he was going to do to humiliate me. We have to willingly give ourselves to our Lord. Even though we never really had a choice.

I reach down, grab the hem of my dress, and pull it up and over my head, exposing my body to the room. I did as I was told and wore nothing underneath.

He stands there; the only sound in the room is my heavy breathing, and my nipples go hard, wondering what he’s looking at or what he’s thinking.

Reaching out, he takes my right hand and places the leather strap around it, buckling it to fit tightly on my small wrist. He repeats the process with my other wrist and both ankles. Then he grabs my hand and walks me to stand behind the altar to face the crowd.

He bends down next to my legs and spreads them wide. Rope is already tied at each end, and he threads it through the silver rings on my ankle cuffs, securing my legs wide open. His hands grab the back of my neck, and he pushes my face down onto the altar.

I shiver, a whimper leaving my lips from the coldness of the concrete surface. Two Lords from the front pews rise and walk to stand in front of me. Each one takes an arm and pulls them out wide, securing them to each end with the rope already attached to the leather bindings around my wrists.

A new man comes to stand on my left, and I take in a shaky breath when he begins to speak. “Do you give yourself to your Lord?” he asks, and I don’t recognize his voice.

“Y-yes,” I answer.

His mask nods to Saint, who I can feel standing behind me. He’s discarded his cloak because the roughness of his jeans presses against my bare ass.

A hand fists my hair, and he yanks my head back, making me cry out. My voice echoes off the walls of the cathedral. “Recite your vows, sweetheart,” Saint commands in my ear.

“I vow,” I say eagerly. Any doubt about not bleeding for him has left my mind. Even if I’m only his for the next ten minutes, it will be enough.

“You vow.” His voice rings out.

“We vow.” We both say at the same time. His voice louder than mine.

He lets go of my hair, and I drop the side of my face to the altar, closing my eyes.

He steps back, running his fingers over my pussy, and I try to push my ass back against it, but I’m tied down too tightly to reach him.

“So eager to be my whore, sweetheart.” The Lords chuckle at his words, and I bite my tongue to keep from making any noise.

He knows how much I want him. His hand comes down on my ass, and I yank on the rope that ties me down. Something pushes against my pussy.

“Saint,” I gasp as it enters me.

“You’re wet, Ash,” he muses, and I realize it’s his finger when he pushes a second one into me.

I cry out, pulling harder as the pain has tears stinging my eyes. That along with the feel of the plug in my butt is overwhelming. “Please…”

He pulls them out and pushes them in again. I’m on my tiptoes, crying and shaking uncontrollably. It hurts more than I thought it would.

“Shh.” He rubs my bare back. “This is what you want, sweetheart. To be fucked like a whore in front of everyone.”

I bury my face into the altar, gasping to breathe. He told me he would humiliate me. I hate how wet I am because it’s turning me on.

“You chose to me be mine, Ash. That means I get to use you.” He pumps his fingers in and out of me faster and faster.

The plug begins to vibrate on a much lower setting than it did in my closet earlier, and a moan escapes my lips as my body rocks back and forth on the altar. I’m sweating like a literal whore in church, which makes it easier for my body to move along the hard and cold surface I’m tied to.

Something enters my pussy that sends a shrill scream from my lips, my face rising, and my hands fist. I yank on the rope that holds me down.

Then his weight is on top of my back, his hand around my throat from behind. “Watch them, sweetheart. Let them see how pretty you are when you come on my dick.”

His hips slam forward, and my lips part, but nothing comes out this time. A paralyzing pain seizes my body, taking my breath away.

He starts to move. In and out. His cock rams my hips into the side of the hard surface of the altar. The masks and cloaks staring at me fade as Saint’s heavy breathing fills my ears. Or maybe it’s mine. I’m not sure.

Am I even able to breathe? The way the room spins, I’d say no. His dick hits the right spot, and I make a noise that even I can’t comprehend. The plug vibrates more than before, or maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Moan for me.” Saint growls in my ear, and I realize I’m crying when I taste my tears. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to fuck you, Ash? Too long. Now be a good girl and come for me. Show them all how much you enjoy pain.”

SAINT

I can feel her body shake underneath mine. But I can also feel how soaked her cunt is.

Fuck, her pussy feels amazing. It’s so tight, and the warmth…like a fucking oven.

Letting go of her throat, I lean up and watch my cock fuck her pussy. A smile plays on my face. “Will you look at that?” I pull out, and she slumps against the altar. I wrap my hand around my cock and run it up and down, smearing the blood on my hand and then shove it back into her.

I slap her ass with my bloody hand. “You’re such a good girl for bleeding on my cock.” She whimpers, her shoulders shaking. I want her to know that she did exactly what I told her she’d do.

I’m on a mission tonight, even if that meant hurting her. If I had to rip her open, she would prove to the Lords that she’s mine. Forever.

She can heal later.

Reaching up, I grab a fistful of her hair, and she doesn’t even scream. The cathedral is full of her heavy breathing and soft cries. I’ve still got my mask and jeans on. All I did was remove my cloak and unzip my jeans to pull my cock out.

We don’t have to be naked.

The Lords have humiliated us enough. Tonight is the night we get to reap the rewards of our loyalty. Tonight is the night I get to claim my sweetheart in front of everyone who wishes they were me.

“Saint.” My name falls from her lips, and I smile, loving the way it sounds.

“That’s it, Ash. Tell them who is fucking you. Who fucking owns you.” I slam forward, and she shudders. Her cunt tightly hugs my bloody cock. I’ve only ever dreamed of her like this. It felt like it was never going to come true. My hand drops between us, and my thumb presses on the vibrating butt plug. I have it turned down somewhat. Just enough to give her a little extra.

“Saint!” She cries out this time when I pull my cock out and push forward.

Her pussy is soaking wet. This is what this life is about—control. Dominance.

Her hands fist, her thighs shaking as her cunt clenches down on me like a vise. I smile as she comes all over my dick. “That’s a good girl,” I praise, and she gasps, trying to catch her breath. “Coming for me like the whore you are.” I push the mask to the top of my head, lean over, and kiss the side of her tear-streaked face. “Now it’s my turn.” Letting go of her, I stand to my full six-foot-five height, grip her hips, and slam into her over and over.

So hard that I’m sweating and breathless by the time my balls tighten. I push forward one last time, holding myself balls deep, and come inside her. I’m proud of myself that I lasted that long. I already came twice today jacking off.

When I pull out, cum and blood drip from the tip of my cock, and she lies bent over the altar, crying and spent like a doll I just used. “That’s just the beginning, sweetheart.” I slap her ass that already has my handprint on it and leave the plug in.