Carnage: Part 2 – Chapter 42
My throat is numb, my body aches, and I’m crying as I watch myself in the mirror with heavy eyes and drool running from my lips. I’m a very competitive person, and the fucker knows that. I know Saint. He thinks I can’t do this. And I’m going to suck this dick like I’m a man on center stage for a fucking hot dog eating contest on the Fourth of July, dammit. I’m determined to win no matter what it takes. Even if I can’t swallow after this damn numbing spray wears off.
The mirror is covered in spit, and my nipples are hard. I’m so wet between my thighs, and not just because I’m drooling all over myself.
I’m horny as fuck. I’ve always had a thing for sucking dick. I loved the way Saint would moan and groan. How he’d grab the back of my head and fuck my face. It turned me on. I craved that sort of attention. I especially loved it when he had me do it in front of an audience. As if he was proud to show off what I could do…how I could please him.
I’ve slept with countless guys since I escaped Carnage, but none were like Saint. They never even came close. They say you never get over your first love, and I can’t argue with that.
Closing my eyes, I part my lips as wide as I can and push my face forward. Not only is my tongue and throat numb but so are my lips. The spray had been on my tongue when I licked them. My nose runs, and my eyes are bloodshot and watering.
And since he connected the short chain, I can’t remove my lips from the dildo, so my mouth is always open. My hips rock the best they can to create friction on my pussy from the rope wrapped around me. He tied my thighs with the belts on purpose. They restrict the movement of my legs for this very reason. He wants me to torture myself. It prevents me from being able to move around.
I’m dripping wet and need to come so bad. I love pleasuring Saint. And the fact I’m pretending to suck his cock makes it unbearable. A part of me hopes that he comes back here and tests me. Makes me show him just how good I can be.
I try to see just how far I can go and push my face forward. I can’t feel it, but there’s pressure as I breathe through my runny nose. I unlace my fingers only to lace them again. That’s the slight amount of movement the rope allows. They’re sweaty, and so are my tied legs. My lashes are stuck together, and I pull back as much as I can only to shove my face forward, watching myself. It just turns me on more. I want Saint to tell me how pretty I look. He loved it when I’d get all ready for him only to let him smear my makeup.
SAINT
I lean back against the counter, and Haidyn stands next to me, watching the cameras in his room, checking on the woman he’s got tied up and waiting for him.
The door opens and in walks Devin. “Just in time,” I say.
He pushes in his cart and nods to me. Devin doesn’t say much. He doesn’t have to as long as he does his job.
The man sitting in the middle of the room stirs, and Haidyn locks his cell, putting it away. We’ve got him strapped in what we call the high chair. It looks exactly how it sounds. Just an adult version. His ankles are secured to the metal bars that run horizontal across the bottom. There’s a tabletop to it that is latched on each side, securing him into it. And his arms are strapped down to the top of it.
“W-what…?” The guy opens his swollen eye. “What the fuck?” He tries to move, but the metal collar I’ve secured around his neck has a short chain connected to the chair’s high back.
“I heard you were in a fight,” I speak.
His eyes snap up to look at mine before they go to Haidyn. “Saint…I didn’t…”
“Hit my wife?” I arch a brow, and he swallows. “I guess the footage I saw of you and her in the elevator must have been fake as well?” I look at Haidyn who snorts.
“I…uh, no…I didn’t—” he rambles unable to lie but refusing to tell me the truth.
“Threaten to rape and kill her.” I finish for him. Not caring what else he has to say, I push off the counter and step forward, and he starts screaming, trying to pull away, but he’s not going anywhere.
Devin pushes the cart over to Emerson and removes the syringe as Emerson begins to scream. He knows what’s coming. He’s been through it before. It’s routine for brandings. But this one will be a little different. The Spade brothers pride themselves on being creative. It’s not as if there is a rule book on how to torture and kill people. But if there ever was, we would be the ones to write it.
“Small pinch,” Devin says, placing his left hand on Emerson’s bare chest while he shoves the needle between his ribs, injecting the shot of adrenaline straight to his heart. I don’t want the fucker to pass out and miss the fun.
Blood begins to run from his mouth, and I look at Haidyn. “He bit his tongue.”
“Pity,” he says dryly.
Devin finishes and removes the needle, nodding to me before dismissing himself.
“Haidyn,” I say, and he walks behind Emerson as he wails. His body thrashes uncontrollably in the chair. He’s strapped down as tight as can be, but his body runs on adrenaline now. For the next fifteen minutes, he’s going to fight as hard as he can before he passes the fuck out.
I pick up the old, rusted, and stained blood meat cleaver off the counter and walk over to the front of the chair.
He manages to find his voice as spit and blood fly from his mouth. “No. No. No. Please…”
I bring the sharp blade down right at his wrist, slamming it down into the metal table, cutting it clean off.
His shrill scream follows, making my ears ring, and blood squirts all over it and to the floor. The fact that he no longer has a wrist means his arm is free from the restraint. So Haidyn grips his forearm and holds it down on the table. His broken hand rolls off the edge of the tabletop and onto the floor. I kick it out of the way into the far corner as it leaves a trail of blood along the way.
“Don’t worry, I have something for that,” I assure him, picking up the brand I had sitting in the bucket with hot coals. Haidyn holds his arm down while I push the 666-branding iron onto the end of his arm where his hand once was.
His scream ricochets off the concrete walls as I heat it up once again and repeat the process. “I’m going to do it as many times as it takes to stop the bleeding,” I tell him while he sobs like the motherfucker he is.
After two more times, I’m satisfied that it’s covered enough. Haidyn lets go, and he cradles it to his chest. “Just one last thing, and then you’re free to go,” I tell Emerson.
“Why’d you do it?” I ask Haidyn over Emerson’s cries, watching him go over to the counter. He removes the key from his back pocket and unlocks one of the upper cabinets.
Haidyn doesn’t turn to face me as he says. “I’ve done lots of questionable things in my life. I’m going to need you to be more specific, Saint.” His voice is flat, but I can see how tense he is. Usually, this shit gets him off. He’s still in a mood and just needs some pussy.
I smirk at his way of avoiding what he knows I’m asking. “Ashtyn. Why did you tell me what happened?” For someone who just told me two days ago that he’d kill her if he saw her, he sure as hell protected her when the time came.
Placing what he wanted from the cabinet onto the counter, he turns to face me and crosses his tatted arms over his chest. Emerson’s sobbing fills the room, and he speaks over it. “Did she tell you what happened?”
I frown, not expecting that as an answer. “No…” I trail off, realizing what he meant. He wants her to be in trouble. He’s telling me she’s still the same conniving little cunt who shot and left me for dead all those years ago.
I can’t argue with him. Did I think dragging her back here would change what happened? No. But I’m just a selfish piece of shit. All Lords are. That’s what we’re taught to be. You want it? It’s yours. It doesn’t belong to you? You take it. That kind of thinking can mean anything in our world. Doesn’t matter. Lords are, above all, unstoppable.
Ashtyn was always mine before, and I wasn’t going to let that change. She’ll live here with me until I decide I no longer want her, and then if she’s lucky, I’ll kill her. If not, I’ll pass her on to someone else. After all, a Lord can share his Lady with whoever he wants.
An hour later, I’ve cleaned myself up and am walking back into the office. Haidyn chose to return to his room. I’m betting it has more to do with Ashtyn in here than the naked girl chained in his room.
Ashtyn still kneels in front of the mirror; her eyes are closed, and her head moves ever so slowly as she sucks on the dick. Tears and drool run down her pretty face. I’m sure the numbing spray has worn off by now.
I’m no longer in the mood to sit at my desk and listen to her suck on a fake dick.
I’m pissy and horny as fuck. She’s pissed me off once more. I expected it. Nothing about her being back here was going to be easy. That’s too much to ask for. Plus, I know who I am, and when it comes to the naked brunette sucking on the dildo, I can reach fucking blackout rage level.
I walk over to her and lean down, undoing both belts that wrap around her thighs. Then I undo the latch to her collar, and it clinks when it hits the mirror, still attached to the shaft. Pulling on her ponytail, I remove her swollen lips from the dildo. She sucks in a deep breath and starts to softly cry.
“Lie down. On your stomach.” I order, placing my hands on her shoulders to help her do so. I’m not untying her just yet, and with how I have her arms tied behind her back, there’s no easy way for me to carry her. So she needs to lie flat facing down so her legs can stretch out and get the blood they need before we walk out of this office.
She whimpers, her body shakes, and her crying grows louder. I know my girl. She’s begging to come.
I stand over her, looking down at her naked body. Admiring the way the rope wraps around her arms and wrists, then disappears between her legs. I don’t miss the way she gently rocks from side to side, trying to relieve whatever frustration she feels.
Fuck, she’s a sight to see—bound and crying. She doesn’t even have to ask me, and I already want to give her what she wants. Well, with limits of course. I wasn’t lying when I told her the only way she’ll leave here is in a body bag. But it’s only a half-truth because she won’t actually leave Carnage. She’ll be buried here in the cemetery next to me, where we’ll remain together forever just like we said that day in the cathedral when she became mine. We took vows, and I took them very seriously, even if she thought they were a joke.
I’m going to take everything she has from her. I’ve already taken her freedom. Next will be her body. That will eventually bleed into her mind. I’m not a fan of breaking her soul so quickly. That’s no fun. If I wanted to fuck a soulless corpse, I’d buy a sex doll.
Me. Mine. Yours. That’ll be her thought process. Kashton and Haidyn may never love her like I do, but if I were to die tomorrow, they’d keep her here just like I was going to. They’ve been given instructions, and I know they will do everything in their power to see them through.
A cell phone rings, and I look over my shoulder to see Kashton stand from his desk, phone in hand. “Hey?” he answers before stepping out.
I place my attention back on Ashtyn and lean down, grabbing both of her upper arms. “Stand,” I command harsher than I meant to, but I don’t apologize or make her think otherwise.
Her small body shakes as she gets to her feet. She keeps her head down, and I release her arms, hooking my finger into her collar and yank her into my body. She more falls into it than anything but stays upright.
I cup her tear-streaked face and force her bloodshot eyes to meet mine. “How did you do?” I ask her.
Licking her swollen lips, she whispers brokenly, “Go-od.”
I release her face and run my knuckles down her heaving chest , hooking two fingers into the rope, I pull on it. She stands on her tiptoes, gasping as the rope between her legs pulls on her pussy. “We’ll see,” I say and walk over to my chair and turn it to face her. “Come here,” I order, unzipping my jeans.
She takes a deep breath and slowly walks over to me, whimpering with each step. Being the good girl she is, she drops to her knees in front of me.
“Open wide and stick out your tongue,” I tell her.
Her swollen lips part for me, and her pink tongue darts out. I place one hand under her chin, tilting her head back while the other enters two fingers into her mouth. I push them to the back of her throat not wasting any time, and she gags, pulling away.
I sit down in the chair and sigh as if I’m disappointed. I knew it’d take more than one time. Dropping her head, she breathes heavily.
I reach out, grab her ponytail and pull her forward, making her cry out. “Open wide, sweetheart. Practice isn’t over.”
Sucking in a deep breath, she opens up for me, and I slide the tip of my pierced cock into her mouth. I push her head down, sliding my dick along her tongue. I reach the back of her throat, and she gags. She hasn’t even taken half my dick yet. “Relax your throat,” I command and push a little farther.
Her body fights the rope that binds her arms behind her back, and her watery eyes shoot open to look up at me. I smile down at her. “Feel that?” I hold her in place, and she blinks rapidly. “The way my cock fills your mouth?” I groan, pushing deeper. The farther I go, the tighter it gets.
She gags, her body involuntarily jerking.
“Breathe through your nose, Ash,” I say, watching tears spill over her bottom lashes. I pull her head back just enough to keep the head inside her mouth. Then push it down again. “Tongue out,” I remind her. “I want that throat open for me.” I push just as far as last time and watch her pretty eyes go wide with panic. I love that other men haven’t been this deep in her mouth. I used to be. But it’s something we had to work on. I don’t mind doing it again. Training my sweetheart was always fun. This time won’t be any different.
Pulling out, I leave the tip in, and again she gasps, drool running down her chin. That’s one of the things I love about face fucking, all the drool. I always loved seeing her pretty, messy face.
I lower her head and push it farther in this time, feeling her throat constrict on the tip of my cock. My head falls back, and I groan, holding it in place as the sound of her gagging fills the room. “Fuck, Ashtyn.” My fingers tighten in her hair, pulling pieces from her ponytail loose. “That’s it.” Lowering my head, I meet her bloodshot eyes.
I pull out all the way this time, and she takes in a quick breath while I slap the side of her wet face. She cries out before I lower her face once more to my hard cock that stands at attention, begging to fuck her pretty face.
“You’re such a good whore on your knees for me. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
She tries to nod but fails as she adjusts herself on her knees before me.
“I’m going to fuck this pretty face now, sweetheart,” I warn her, and she closes her eyes, body trembling.
Face fucking and throat fucking are two different things. One is just a mouth; the other is a throat. And although I want to watch my entire cock disappear down her throat, she’s not ready for that just yet.
I take both hands, place them on the back of her head and start fucking her face. I go too deep, making her gag once more, but it just makes my cock swell even more in her mouth. Her slurping, gasping, and gagging fills the office as I watch my cock go in and out of her drool-covered face.
“Such a pretty slut,” I say, making her whimper around my dick, and I like the way it feels. So I go on. “That’s a good girl. Swallow my cock, Ash. You’ll be able to take all of me in no time.”
Her eyes are closed, and I look up at the mirror behind her that allows me to see the show. “Fuck, you’re so pretty on your knees. Drooling all over yourself. I bet that pussy of yours is just as wet as your mouth.”
Her hands fist tightly together, her legs tucked underneath her, and I can only imagine how the rope feels rubbing against her pussy every time I force her head to move since I have it tied to her collar.
The sound of the office door opening has her trying to pull away, but I press her head down, my cock hitting the back of her throat, and she gags, lifting her hips off the floor. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” I encourage her. “But you’re not done until I’m coming all over that pretty face.”
She fights me, gagging again, and the action has her throat constricting around my cock like a vise. I groan, pushing her head down even more and feel my dick force its way farther. “Goddamn…” I push it even more. I watch amazed as the tip of her nose almost touches my jeans. She’s got a little more to take, but that’s good enough for today’s training session.
I hold her there as I feel my balls tighten, and just when I think she can’t take anymore and is about to puke, I pull out, grip my pierced dick, and come on her face just like I said I was going to.