Czar Gregovivk Part 3

"There's no way you brought me here just to play a game of foosball, right?" she jokes, trying to lighten the mood, but the slight tremble at the corner of her lips doesn't go unnoticed by me.
I walk toward her and stop by the table, stretching my arm to press a hidden button on the side of the wood. Mabel jumps back as the four electronic iron bars of the sadomasochistic table begin to rise at each corner, giving her a vague idea of the table’s true purpose.
"That's what I thought," she sighs and exhales slowly through her mouth, biting it gently.
"Take off your shoes." I give her an order and walk to the left, near the wall of toys, crouching down to grab a velvet black box.
I see her still standing in the same spot when I turn and walk to the center of the room, placing the box there.
"The shoes." I sound more stern, making her understand my command.
Quickly, I see her bend forward as she kneels down and unties the knot of her shoelace, slowly taking off her shoe.
I wait for her to repeat the same gesture with the other one, removing it from her foot, now barefoot. I extend my fingers toward Mabel, calling her. Her body sways as she rubs her left foot on top of her right, curiously looking at the box.
"Mabel!" I make her look at me when I call sharply. "Come!"
She takes one slow step after another, approaching with hesitation. I feel the warm touch of her fingers when she places them on my hand.
"Should I be worried, sir?" She locks her dark eyes on mine, giving me a nervous yet anxious look.
"No, from now on, I'll be the one worrying. I'll take care of you, I'll dictate what you'll do and how you should do it." My other hand grips her waist, lifting her off the ground and placing her on top of the box. "The only thing you have to do is obey me and not question what I do with what belongs to me!" I respond and study her position, centering her on the box to avoid any risk of her slipping and falling.
"Was I clear, little bird?" I take a step back and place my hands behind my back, clasping my fingers together, raising my face toward hers.
Mabel only nods her head in agreement and presses her lips together, tapping her fingers against the side of her hip.
"I think I could get used to having you like this, sooner or later." She makes me focus intently on her face, raising an eyebrow.
"Explain yourself!" I order, waiting for her answer without returning the smile she had on her face.
"From top to bottom." Mabel bites her lip and drops the smile, giving me an embarrassed look. "Normally, I'm the one who has to tilt my head back to look at you." She exhales with frustration through her mouth and closes her eyes, shaking her head. "It was just a joke I made about myself for being short, it was just a joke. Sorry, I'm nervous."
I take a step forward and return to her side, studying her closely, my eyes now at the level of her mouth. I lift my gaze to meet hers the moment she opens her eyes, remaining still as I stand inches from her face.
"Undress!" I command, without responding to her comment about her height.
I notice her body tense up, with a worried expression, her fingers showing signs of tension as she taps them faster against her sides.
"You’ve already been naked in front of me, little bird. Take off your clothes!" I step back, giving her space to study her better.
"I know, it’s just different," she says quickly, lowering her head to look at her feet.
"Look at me, Mabel!" I say firmly, drawing her attention again, making her meet my eyes. "What was different that night?"
Mabel raises her head and stares at the light above, swaying her body slightly back and forth.
"Damn it!" I hear the quiet curse leave her lips as she quickly raises her hands to the straps of her dress, pulling them down hastily.
Once her arms are free, Mabel pushes the dress down in one motion, letting it slide down her legs. She presses her thighs together and rubs her feet against each other, her fingers frozen at the hem of her long-sleeved shirt. My eyes study her smooth, toned legs, noting the cotton panties with lace edges she's wearing.
"Take everything off." I raise my eyes to her face, watching her jaw clench as her trembling lips allow a single tear to roll down her cheek.
Before I can order her to open her eyes, Mabel quickly lifts her shirt, removing it from her body, tossing it to the floor, and crossing her arms above her stomach in agony, holding them tightly. Her eyes remain shut, squeezing them tighter, her breathing quick, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I notice her light pink, half-cup bra covering her breasts. My chest fills with air as my eyes land on the mark of my teeth on her chest, which instantly causes my cock to harden further inside my pants.
"I told you to take everything off," I growl, turning and walking toward the wall of tools, grabbing a 30-centimeter black silicone spatula.
When I turn back, I see her facing away from me, remaining in her tense posture with hunched shoulders. I admire her ass, letting my eyes travel along the curve of her rear.
"Take everything off, Mabel, and raise your arms." I keep my eyes on her and extend my arm, pulling a small lever attached to the wall and releasing the cuffs suspended from the ceiling above her head. "I'm letting your stubbornness slide today, making me repeat my orders, but this won’t happen again from now on."
I see her tense up and look up in alarm, breathing quickly and dropping her arms by her sides. I walk back to her and glance up, checking the height of the chains. Her arms will be restrained above her head, leaving them fully extended, pushing her chest forward, likely making her stand on tiptoe on the box.
"I said..." I stop when I face her and lower my gaze to her abdomen, feeling the blood freeze. "Who did this?"
My voice booms, spoken with intensity, the veins in my arms bulging as I squeeze the rubber spatula tightly in my fingers.
"Please, don't look at that!" she says with a tearful voice, trying to cross her arms over her stomach again.
But before she can, I already have my fingers wrapped around her wrist, gently moving it aside, my eyes locked on the scar she tried to hide from me. My jaw clenches, my mouth tightening as I use the flat edge of the spatula to lift her other arm, tracing the line that cuts across the side of her stomach and up to the side of her body, stopping near her armpit. I let out an angry growl through my teeth, squeezing her wrist tightly, lifting my head to meet her eyes.
"For your own good, tell me you didn’t do this to your body!" I snarl angrily, pulling her arm down to make her look at me in fear.
Her head shakes in denial as she starts crying again, closing her eyes.
"Open your eyes and don’t close them!" I try to control my voice, holding myself back from losing control completely. "The guy you paid to beat you, did he do this?"