Czar Gregovivk
"I accept!" The soft sound of her voice is heard as she slowly opens her mouth, her eyes closed, in complete surrender.
My fingers grip the back of her head with more pressure, and I inhale deeply, controlling any expression of relief or satisfaction her answer might have given me. I feel like I’m being filled, with gasoline running through my veins, having her in front of me like the embodiment of my most profane demons. My hand keeps stroking her hair, taming the impulses of my sadistic soul, which fills my chest with pride. I take a step forward and hold her possessively, my hands clasped on either side of her face, expanding my chest with a deep breath.
"I accept anything that will take me out of this torment, sir." She tilts her face and murmurs, releasing a soft sigh as her cheek presses against my hand, so surrendered and overwhelming.
Due to my dominant nature, I’ve always considered myself a practical and objective man, one who has complete control over impulses and emotions, never letting myself be governed by sudden feelings. But the little bird had achieved a peculiar feat—she had surprised me. I had never been caught off guard by anyone, but here, standing in front of me, in the sweet creature wrapped in soft feminine curves, with a scent of plum and strawberry, was the worst temptation that had ever crossed my path, disarming me with every soft breath she released. She had surprised me by appearing in Sodom unexpectedly for the second time, and now, with her surrender.
I wasn’t going to play with Mabel—that was something I had decided. But the fact that I can’t stand not knowing things in full made me move forward, not with the intent to play, but because I couldn’t silence my dominant mind that spoke louder, wanting to know what Mabel’s little submissive soul desired. However, seeing her sad face and hearing the words that came from her mouth made me fight to control my instincts, which wanted to roar in pure rage and cross the room, demanding she tell me the name of the bastard who broke her like a house of cards. But I couldn’t do that without risking Mabel closing herself off again. Like any skittish bird, she would flap her wings quickly and fly as far as she could. And that would only leave her in the same place she is now—more lost and confused.
The intense, aggressive lesson of pure cruelty had guaranteed Miss Shot a twisted deviation of desire, where only pain made her feel pleasure. Mabel couldn’t go back, which is why her internal conflicts about right and wrong, her self-hatred for feeling pleasure from all the crap he did to her, left her so self-destructive and confused, without realizing that it wasn’t the cruel pain her body craved, but rather erotic pain. And that put me in a dilemma, with only two options: either I finish what the bastard started, taming her and making her submissive soul bow fully to her masochistic desires, breaking her completely; or I simply turn my back and send her away from this house, leaving her to her own devices, on the verge of a breakdown.
I just couldn’t choose the second option—I couldn’t do that, not when I know that inside her, her soul is bubbling, boiling as if it’s in a pressure cooker about to explode at any moment, no longer wanting to be repressed, pushing her to take wrong and drastic actions. Playing with her would be the quickest way to shatter her, pushing her to the edge. Playing Sodom would give her the three levels of initiation all at once—sensory disorientation, intoxication, and bodily obedience, using her senses and desires against her, testing her limits over twenty days, completely freeing her. And I would take charge of that, no doubt.
I usually don’t fuck the submissives who come to Sodom’s parties, offering themselves to me. I’ve always preferred to hunt my prey, but the little bird had fully captured my attention, and I would be a hypocritical bastard to deny that my cock doesn’t want, badly, to fuck every part of her body, showing her that her soul isn’t dirty or impure, that it’s beautiful. In my world, Sodom, Mabel is the most tempting soul I’ve ever had the chance to encounter. The most beautiful and perfect form that a Dominant appreciates in a submissive. But before that, I need to find out what that bastard did to her, to exorcize all the horror he left in her mind.
My hand on her face slides to her nape, making her stay still, while I switch to my Dominant mode, suppressing my rage for this cursed man.
"I need your trust, Mabel. Without trust, we have nothing, neither in the game nor outside of it." I stroke the side of her face and push her hair back behind her ear. "Open your eyes for your master, little bird!"
I bite my lip and hold back a sigh, keeping my face expressionless and suppressing the sin of pride, ruled by my vanity, as she obeys, slowly opening her eyelids for me. My finger slides down her cheek, and I slowly catch the tear that falls down her face, keeping my eyes fixed on hers.
"Before we begin, I need answers, Mabel." I puff out my chest and grip her nape harder, not letting her look away from my eyes. "No lies or half-truths. To me, you’re an open book that I will read whenever I please, understood? If you lie to me, I’ll punish you, and, baby, I swear you won’t want your first lesson to be with my hand spanking your ass until I’m sure your skin is burning!"
Her mouth falls open, and she holds her breath, her dark eyes widening as she looks at me, startled.
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