Forget to Remember Ch. 03

***If you haven't read Forget to Remember Ch. 1 or 2, please do so before reading this one. It will make this story a lot yummier to read.***

*

The walls of the dungeon dripped with blood and fear. Past prisoners' screams rang the cells and halls, bringing my body on full alert. When I open my eyes, my arms were bound above my head and I stand suspended in the center of a small jail cell. I looked down and saw my body, completely naked of clothes but covered in dirt and sweat. The strain on my arms brought my head back up just in time to see the door to the cell open and a masked man enter holding a whip.

The mask was black and covered everything except holes for the nose to breathe and eyes to see. His chest was sculpted to impress with strong arms crossed over. Instead of drinking in his looks, I panicked at how hard that whip would hurt with his strength. I had no doubt in my mind that the whip was meant for me. I got as scared as a deer with approaching headlights coming at me. I knew the effort was pathetic but I tried talking. It ended up coming out as a whimper.

"Please... why are you doing this?"

The masked man was silent as he stood to one side to let someone else come in. This man had no mask, but his clothes told me more. He must be powerful and some form of royalty or high political standing. His tanned skin and features let me to think he was Middle Eastern, resting well under the gold suit and medals that were polished to a gleam. He was smirking, not smiling, at me as he struts into the cell looking like a solar eclipse in the dirt of my prison. A uniformed guard walked in behind him holding a large and intimidating sword. Maybe the whip was the lesser evil, and I sent up a silent prayer for the whip and not the sword.

Tears began to fall in frighteningly fast rivers down my face, creating dirty streams all over my body front. The man chuckled and said in a strong Indian accent, "How many times have we been through this? Your tears are wasted emotions. They no longer work on me."

He approached me and the sweet, spicy scent of his body hit me. The black hair was cut short, but the front fell in a wave over his forehead. The look in his eyes could only be described as one thing- evil.

"For all the pain you caused, all the wars lost and all the people that have died for the revolution you started, you will be my slave. You will be my toy to do what I wish and the only alternative is death."

He laughed and turned to the masked man. "Now, I want you to prepare her for what is to come. Give her a taste of what I expect. I think... ten lashing to start."

Lashings?! Was he mad?! My pleas began once more as I cried but I was abruptly stopped when he yelled, "Silence!" With a nod of his head he signaled the masked man to go behind me. I pulled at my bonds despite knowing there was no way out. He stood for a moment with his hand on my shoulder and his face close to my ear. He whispered, "Forgive me," and delivered the first slash to my bare back.

The pain was extraordinary as my skin took the hit without much of a fight. I had no way to fight it anyway. I know not what crimes I committed to deserve such treatment but the burning between my shoulder blades was brutal enough that it must have been horrible. With the second hit I screamed but stood still, not wanting to distress my body even more. By the third I could feel blood or sweat, maybe both, trickle down my back and between my bare cheeks. By the sixth I was all out of cries and my back was completely numb. I sat and took the rest like the slave he wanted me to be.

When he was finished, the royal prick nodded his approval. "Good. You'll learn to live with it." Looking behind me he said, "Clean her up and tend her wounds. I want her fresh for tomorrow. I'll show her what it means to serve the king." With another diabolical laugh, the king walked out with his guard.

I began weeping silently, not enough energy to spend on full tears. The masked man placed a hand on my hip, making me flinch back as if burned. When we heard the dungeon door seal the silence of the prison, he put his forehead on my shoulder and said in a muffled voice, "I'm not sure how much longer I can do this." I tense at his touch, scared of what he's going to do to me.

He walks around my front, tossing the whip across the cell in anger. He abruptly took off the mask, tossing it aside with the whip and looked into my eyes. He was crying. His brown hair was pulled back with a small piece of string, but pieces fell out around his beautiful face and I knew instantly, I knew who it was. It was the one in my dream for the past few nites. My dream, my love, stood before me with sadness in his eyes when I know all I held inside was hope and love.

"One more day, beauty. One more blessed day between us. After tomorrow, all will be taken, all with be shown, I promise."

He cradled my face in trembling fingers and I began to shake in my bonds. "Untie me, please. I'm not sure how much more I can stand this."

He kissed my lips, tasting our tears burnt into memories past. As he untied my wrists and ankles, he kept chanting, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," under his breath. When my arms were free, my body gave up the fight and I collapsed in his arms. But instead of feeling scared or sad, I felt safe with him. Inside I know he will take care of me as he has done all of these past weeks since my capture.

He rests my sore body on a small bed towards the back of the cell, resting me on my side and facing me towards the wall. I heard water dripping and yelped as a kicked pup when I felt a frigid wet cloth on my back.

"Please let me tend your wounds. It will make my soul feel better knowing I've tried to soothe horrible actions he made me do."

There were so many questions I wanted to ask him- his name, who he was, what I'm doing here- but my strength was lost, soothed by the man tending my sore back.

I must have drifted off for a moment, could have been hours but I opened my eyes and the cell wall looked at me like a dead end, suddenly there and nothing for me to do about it. How do I get out of this mess? With my mind reviewing the past sudden events, I cried out in frustration and felt two hands on my shoulders. "Shh..." Breath in my ear quieted me and I turned my body to see my dream looking at me with concern and compassion. Then, with my hands reaching for him, quickly melt to lust and desire. His bare chest rose and felt with a heavy sigh.

"You're weak, my love. Lie still so I may take care of you."

"No, I need you. I'm not sure how much time we have but all I know it that I only feel content and safe with you... inside me."

The confession brought a boyish smile to his face and he said, "Well I'd hate to make you feel unsafe."

I lay down on my back, inviting the pain from the cuts and bruises because it would be worth the pain to feel his body on top of mine; and it was amazing. His nude body covered mine, not caring where his pants went. When his lips finally came to mine, I kissed him quickly, hungry and anxious. He kissed me ferociously, breathing me in deep and running his hands up and down my body as if admiring a delicate sculpture. My body moved under him, pushing and pulling him to me.

He slipped his arms behind me and pressed on my wounds making me scream out from the sudden burn. He pulled back as if the fire from my back came out and torched his own skin. He recoiled and sat up, his face shocked and upset.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have- I didn't mean..."

I wiped the sudden tears that sprang from my eyes and gave him a watery smile. "No, it's okay. Come back to me and help me forget about the nightmare the King caused."

He shook his head and held his outstretched hands to his chest. "I can't. I caused the pain and I won't forget."

I sat up, impatient now and wanting the mesmerizing creature on top of me to give me what I need. "Then give me more pain, but pain I want, I ask for, I can use." His look of confusion and distress was making it worse. I grabbed his head and swore deep into his eyes. "Give me pain that I can turn to desire."

I cocked my head to the side, exposing my neck to him- sweat dripped and veins bulging with my suspended anticipation. "Bite my skin." I could see his hesitation but I took my hands from his face and covered his chest with them, scraping my fingernails down and showing him what I mean. Eight red welts formed on his flesh and a sound came from him that can only be described as a growl. I looked at his hard erection, resting like a rod of heat on my stomach burning me through our skin. He liked it.

With a devious grin on my face I said, "See what I mean?" I turned my head once more.

"Bite me."

He pounced on my body and pressed my wounded back to the bed once more as his assault on my neck started. He began kissing me roughly, breaths coming fast onto my skin and cooling the hot, wet flesh. It felt tremendously wonderful but it wasn't enough to take my mind away from the torture on my back. I whispered "Harder," to him and he began sucking on my skin, pulling it into his mouth in chunks and grazing his teeth over the flesh.

"Harder!"

And he did. He bit my flesh so hard I dug my nails into his back to hold on and not fall off the cot. His teeth burrowed my neck, sending every nerve shooting through my body at once. The way his bite hurt was different that those on my back, which was quickly forgotten. This brought a wave of heat through my bones making my core bubble and the juices boil inside. My lips dribbled out words to him- encouragement, love, desire, and need. He bit me again, this time on my breast and a little harder than the last one but I didn't tell him to stop, and he didn't.

I looked down as he moved his mouth away and trailed fierce nibbles over my skin. His mouth left imprinted teeth marks over my left breast, red from the blood rush of the wound. I loved it. I writhed and burned with the pleasure. The sweat dripped off my hot body and I knew I couldn't last much longer. I pulled him to me in a quick movement, kissing his lips and feeling his teeth dig into my bottom lip. Stealing my mind with the kiss, I felt his erection touch between my thighs. When I opened for him, he pressed inside of me, slick and smooth as a well fitted glove. At that moment all the pain went away and not just the pain in my neck, or my back, but the pain in my heart and my soul. Everything inside of me went completely numb with the pleasure of our joined bodies. It made me feel so good that I just sighed and relaxed my muscles and limbs that have been wrapped tight around him in a boa constrictor's embrace.

He asked me if I felt okay with concern dripping from each word. "Yes," I said as I began to move my hips. "Yes," I said as I pulled him closer to me. "Yes!" as he began moving with me.

I scratched my fingers down his flesh again as I felt him bite my neck once more, delicately this time, just hard enough to feel good. The bed beneath us squealed with each press of our bodies into the stained mattress.

"One more day..." he chanted for the past few minutes; the night before it was two.

"What happens in one more day? What happens to us after tomorrow?"

He smiled at me a smile of confidence and with one rough thrust I exploded inside my body with one rolling mind-numbing wave. I felt pins and needles through my skin all at once being pushed through only to be pulled back and laced through again. Each nerve in my body was tied into a knot, sending the orgasm through, over and over and never stopping. It was getting harder to breathe until finally he pulled out of my trembling body and poured the sweet cream of his own onto my stomach. The hot liquid felt so good on my skin and I lay still savoring the warmth and after shocks of my temporary sexual paralysis.

He cradled me to his body and ran trembles through me again when he breathed in my ear. There was no where else in the world I could have wanted to be but hearing him gaining his breath back with his arms around me.

"What happens in one more day?"

He kissed me on the forehead and said, "You will know soon enough."

I hugged him closer and said, "Can I ask one more thing?"

"Of course, you may ask me anything you wish." He brushed a few pieces of hair from my eyes and traced the curve of my face with his fingertip.

"What is your name?"

He looked deep into my eyes, almost shocked at the request and debating on whether or not I can ask or that he can answer.

"Nathaniel."

---------

I woke in bed, tied up in my bed sheets, whispering "Nathaniel... Nathaniel..." over and over. The day after tomorrow? Will I have another dream? What will it compare to the rest? The past three have been intense and rising in pleasure. I hope for one more dream to satisfy me before getting out of bed to great the day. I look into the mirror and that's when I notice my neck. Teeth marks shape a large bruise on my skin. I pull my shirt down and find another on my breast.

Was it a dream?