Larkin Ch. 14

There was darkness. Voices. Dreams, dark and murky. Fear, pain. So much pain.

Larkin opened her eyes, but the light hurt. She winced and tried to move. She could not. She was in a room, bright and open. She saw Yvette come into view.

"There you are child. Why'd you go and do such a horrible thing? The boy has just been beside himself, then he lost himself completely. It's such a shame what you did to him. I'd half a mind to just let you pass on in your fever dreams, but he demanded I help you heal. I did, but I didn't like it, not one bit! Your burn is better, there is no bone showing anymore, that's healed over. No more than you deserve if you ask me..."

"I didn't ask you," Larkin croaked. "Get away from me, let me die."

"You spoiled little...!"

"Yvette, has she woken?"

"She is awake m'lord, but not yet out of danger. I was about to get her some water."

Wynter appeared in her view. He had shaved and his hair trimmed, but he still looked tired. "You will not die, Larkin," he demanded.

"I will if I have anything to say about it."

"You do not," he said, lifting the bandages to look at the burn. He smirked at her. "Do you know what it is?"

"A burn," she answered dully.

He snorted. "No longer the biddable, sweet girl. No. It is my initials. You will never be able to go anywhere without everyone knowing you are MY slave. Not just any slave, but mine. You will never receive sanctuary again. Perhaps I should have told you before you left, you cannot hide from me, not when people hear who I am."

"Who are you?"

"I am death, Larkin. Before I decided to spend time finding slaves, I commanded elite forces. Most of my men are still with me. I am a lord, I am a commander, I am death. I am known far and wide by many. When I stepped down from my military role, I decided to step into the slave trade. Looking for my perfect slave, earning favors along the way. You ruined it all though, didn't you? Played me false, nothing but a whore."

"I was never that. You can tell yourself whatever you like, but you forced yourself on me before I gave you what you wanted so that you wouldn't take it and hurt me in the process. Self preservation is not whoring. And I have been with one man in my whole life, the man who raped me and tortured me and made me do horrible things. The only thing worse than you is your servant, your female servant, thinking it is ok for you to do those things to girls and making excuses for you. You are disgusting and a monster, but she is worse."

"Silence, Larkin," Wynter hissed. He put a hand to her head, her chest. "Once her fever is down. Let me know. I will begin her punishments."

Wynter left and Yvette sidled up to her with an angry scowl. She slapped Larkin as hard as she could, then did it again and again. "You little bitch! I hope he tortures you for a decade!"

"Truth hurt, Yvette?" Larkin asked, turning back to the woman calmly. "You are an abomination. I hope you live to see your hateful life ruined, have your own deeds turned back on you tenfold. I will make it my life's mission."

"You won't be getting unbound till I am long dead."

"I made him believe it once. It won't be hard to do it again. The first thing I will do is see you punished in every way he has ever punished anyone."

"He'll never fall for you again. He knows what a deceitful little cunt you are."

Larkin gave her a dark smile. "We will see, won't we?"

It was two days before Wynter returned, after Yvette told him her fever was gone. He scowled down at her. "Who has been hitting her?" he demanded.

"Yes, Yvette, who has been beating on me this whole time, telling me I am not good enough for her master and demanding I just die?"

Wynter spun to Yvette, who stepped back, wide eyed. "M'lord, the things she would say about you! I couldn't let her just say them!"

"I told you no one lays a hand on her but me!" he screamed and the woman flinched back.

Wynter turned back to Larkin, his nostrils flaring. He unfastened all of her cuffs, then yanked her up by her hair. She immediately went to her knees, her legs too weak to hold her yet. He yanked her up and carried her like a sack around her waist. He brought her back to his room, which surprised her. When she saw the white dress on a form, on display, she felt sick all over again. He really had brought back a wedding dress.

He took her to a small cage, far too small for a human, then laid it open. He set her down, pulling one of the sides up and opening it. It worked like stocks, locking her head and hands in place. He pulled up the sides, pushing hard against her hips on both sides. He moved her legs to line up with the bars as he pulled up the back wall, pushing hard against her ass, her calves and feet sticking out. He locked it all, squeezing her in so tight that she mewled in pain. The bars dug into her shoulders, hips and ass. He locked a bar in place just above her calves, then yanked hard on her ankles. He pulled until the back of her knees dug into the bar, then he secured her ankles in place. He reached up and spread her ass cheeks open against the bars, exposing her asshole and pussy. She was pressed so hard into the bars, the pressure held her ass wide open. He moved again and secured the top of the cage, pressing into her back and tailbone. She was crying at this point, but he wasn't done. He yanked her head back as far as he could, then braided her hair into the bars, forcing her head up at a painful angle. She was panting, her body already starting to cramp. He took a leather strap and threaded it behind her hanging breasts, then pulled them forward so they were pushed out of the bars. He attached clamps to her nipples, making her scream again, then slid a small rod through the loops in them, forcing her breasts and nipples to jut out of the cage.

He stood, but he was not done. He picked up a whip with several long strips of leather hanging on it. He drug it across her face as she sobbed, then moved behind her. The first blow on her open asshole made her scream, but she couldn't move a muscle to escape. He circled her, striking every bit of flesh that was pressing into the bars. He continued to circle and strike randomly, making her beg and promise him anything if he would stop.

He did stop, finally, when a hard strike to her breasts made a clamp release with a painful yank. He growled, then grabbed a cloth from the basin table and pressed it to her tender nipple. He had drawn blood, she realized. Apparently a lot of it the way he pressed so hard for so long.

"How many men?" he demanded, glaring down at her.

"I have told you, none. You don't want the truth though, do you? You want a lie to fit your narrative."

"You think to push me to kill you," he smirked. "No. No, little Larkin. You will not goad me."

Larkin squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry for him any more. "Did you really kill Mathilde?" she whispered. "Just because of me? You didn't just sell her like you did the others?"

"No," he hissed. "I tortured her like I have never tortured another slave. She paid heavily for your betrayal. I never cared about money, Larkin. I have more money than I will ever need in this lifetime. I cared about bending girls to my will, making them into toys, whores, playthings. She died cursing your name."

Larkin let out another sob, then her eyes went to the dress. "Did you really love me?" she asked, choked up.

"You don't get to ask me that now, slave."

"I did not think you capable. I did not think you could feel as I did. I could not bear to never be able to please you truly, enough that you wouldn't hate me so much you would still punish me for not being good enough. I..."

"Shut up! You will not play me false again. I know your game now."

"I ran because I hated myself for caring for a man who would never love me! A man who would never be happy with me no matter how hard I tried. I did not lie the day you asked if I loved you, and I did miss your arms with a real physical ache. I did not miss your punishments and torture. I missed the you who smiled at me and kissed me and made love to me."

"The man you had before you left," he hissed. "Or did you not notice that I had changed completely after the night with the farmboy? No. You noticed, you are just a lying whore trying to escape more pain."

"Tell yourself what you must, Wynter, but you know I am not lying. I will never hate anyone as much as I hate myself for loving you."

Wynter growled and dropped the cloth, leaving the room in a huff. He left her there all day and Yvette smirked at her when she came in and dressed the wound on her breast. She fed her, roughly, trying to make Larkin choke, then poured water down her throat, purposefully missing and pouring it up her nose. Larkin was coughing, straining against her bonds painfully as Yvette left.

Wynter returned late that evening, his face red from exertion. He removed his sword belt and turned to her, pacing in front of her. "You will eat when you are brought food, or I will shove a tube down your throat and pour it in. Do not fight or balk."

"She didn't try to feed or let me drink, she tried to choke me with the food and she poured the water up my nose to watch me cough and hurt myself as I did."

"Do not make excuses or try to get her in trouble. I see what you are doing, pitting my servant and I against each other."

"Think what you want. I did not fight her, she tried to drown me and choke me. She wants me dead so you will heal. I need the privy."

He scowled, but went and grabbed a bowl He held it under her, pressing hard against her. "Hurry up," he hissed.

Humiliated, she released her bladder, then closed her eyes as she listened to him empty the bowl in the privy pot. She gasped when she felt a cold, wet cloth on her pussy lips as he cleaned her off. She tried to flex her muscles enough to close herself off from him, but she was bound too tightly.

He laughed, a sneering, derisive laugh. "Don't want to be touched, slave? Feel your body betray you to my touch?" He dropped the cloth and slid his fingers down her slit. She shivered involuntarily, fighting the sensation of pleasure. He rolled his fingertips over her bud and she whimpered as he laughed. "So wet for me so quickly. Still a little whore, aren't you slave?"

"I may not be able to help the way your hands make me feel, but that doesn't mean I OH!" She cut off abruptly as he shoved two fingers into her roughly. "No!" she wailed helplessly.

He laughed again, an evil and angry sound as he moved behind her. He pulled his fingers out and she felt him moving, heard him unbuckling his belt. "How many, Larkin?"

"None," she whispered, resigning herself. He shoved his cock into her and she gasped and whimpered as her shoulders were shoved into the bars. He rammed in again and again, drawing cries from her. Despite the pain, Larkin felt pleasure riding through her. "Noo..." she whispered again, trying to shut it down.

He laughed at her, then began speeding up and not ramming as hard.

"Noo!" she wailed again, unable to shut down the pleasure. She pulled as hard as she could with her head until the pain brought tears to her eyes, refusing to give in to the pleasure, refusing to come for him. He came with a roar, throbbing and spilling deep inside of her.

"My little slave, do you deny wanting my cock?"

"I never denied how good you could make me feel," she answered numbly.

He moved around in front of her and shoved his cock in her face. "Lick it clean, slave," he hissed.

"I can't move, you will have to bring it closer and MPHH!"

He gripped her jaw roughly and shoved his limp, wet cock into her mouth. She sucked and licked as best as she could, closing her eyes and trying to imagine herself somewhere else. She worked him with her mouth until he began to thicken again. She rolled her tongue over him and sucked and moaned, letting the vibration make him hiss in pleasure.

Soon, he was thrusting his hips slowly, shoving his cock into her throat as it grew. He started ramming roughly, choking her and making her fight for air. His tight hold on her jaw was all that kept her from clamping down with her teeth. If it didn't kill him, he would kill her. She knew if she tried he would punish her, so she let him. She tried to help him along, make it happen faster, but he seemed to be enjoying her pain and discomfort as much as what he was doing. He slowed down, blocking her air longer and longer, until she was seeing spots. Soon, she blacked out.