“Yes, I’ll take it from here,” Roman said as he walked into the room, staring intently at me. “She’s mine.”
The man nodded and handed the knife to Roman, but he remained where he stood.
I wanted to run and hug him, cling to him, glue myself to his body as I begged for him to take me away from this manor of hell. I was scared and wanted him to make it all okay again. But he had warned me. He had told me this wouldn’t be easy. And he told me that the man I would see at the manor, would not be the boy I grew up with. That fact was obvious because though Roman stood in the room, staring at me nearly completely naked, he never once moved to cover me up from the eyes of the stranger. He never embraced me or offered to dry my tears. This man in the room was Prince Roman… but as I was told, he was now dark Prince Roman.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. What is going to happen to me?” My voice quivered as much as my body did. Fresh tears erupted and ran down my cheeks as I watched Roman, the cold expression on his face unfamiliar to me.
Roman closed the distance between us and put the knife under my chin so I had to look up into his brown eyes. He inhaled deeply. “The initiation begins, and you know what that means.”
I nodded every so slightly, scared of the knife under my chin.
“You understand what I must do? Who I must become?”
I inhaled deeply and blinked a few times, not being able to control the tears. I thought I could do this. I thought I was strong enough. But facing it made my stiff spine disappear.
“I love the way your tears smell against your cheeks.” He pressed the tip of the knife into my skin, forcing a gasp to break free from my closed lips. He then darted his tongue past his lips and licked a trail up my cheek, collecting my tears for his tasting. “These will not be the last of your tears,” he nearly growled as he then lowered the knife to the edge of my panties.
“Please,” I said softly. Another sob broke free. “I’ll do as you ask. I’m scared. Please don’t hurt me.”
Would he hurt me? My Roman wouldn’t… but this was a different man before me. This was Prince Roman, member of The Iron Colt Brotherhood, and he had an image to uphold.
The knife dipped below the waistband of my panties and rested against my mound. The coolness of the steel against my intimate skin had me gasp again as Roman brought his lips to my ear. “Stay still, Cheri. It would be a shame to scar this pussy of yours.”
“Please…”
I didn’t want to do this!
I wanted to leave!
I was a fool in thinking I could do an initiation like this.
I wanted out, but I also knew it was too late.
He tapped the metal of the knife against my clit, causing a surprising surge of sinful arousal. The twisted sense of desire while shaking in horror, due to my captive situation, weakened my knees. Beads of sweat formed on my upper lip as I focused on not collapsing to the floor, jamming the blade right through me.
“By the time I’m done with you, diamonds will be paid and your life will be changed forever. You will be part of The Iron Colt Brotherhood whether you like it or not for the rest of your life. But while you earn your diamonds, your life belongs to me. You belong to me. I will be your captor, your sir…” He paused for a moment and examined my body from head to toe. “Fuck that. For you. For you, my dear Cheri, I will be your master, your trainer, the keyholder to your cage, and you will be my kitty locked away in this manor—caging you in. My filthy, dirty, raw, wild kitty. Yes, The Iron Colt Brotherhood will like hearing you call me Master.” He gave a wicked smile, clearly pleased with his thoughts of what that would mean. “I will be the man who controls every single breath you take and move you make. You will call me Master, my wild kitty. Trust that your Master knows best, and you’ll survive this ordeal.”
He was serious. This man was fucking serious.
“Do you understand what I am saying, Cheri?”
I nodded, trying to stay as still as I could as the knife resting on my pussy reminded me how precarious my situation was.
“Answer me the proper way,” he said firmly.
Not sure what he meant exactly, I tried to guess and replied, “Yes, sir.”
“No, you do not call me sir. Not for you. That’s too common, and I know that you are far from common. You will call me Master, dirty girl. Say it.”
I swallowed hard and with wide eyes tried one last time to beg for mercy. “Please don’t do this. I know I said I could do this, but I’m scared. I’ll do whatever The Iron Colt Brotherhood wants me to do and say whatever they want me to say. I can keep secrets. I promise you that I will never betray them. We don’t need to do this. An initiation is not necessary.”
“But we do. All who marry a member of the brotherhood and want to truly be accepted must be initiated. You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last.”
“Please,” I pleaded as fresh tears fell. “I beg you.”
“You aren’t begging yet. Trust me. But you will. When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for more. You will beg for my cock to be inside of you. You will plead with those tears in your eyes for my tongue to go lower and deeper. You will beg, dirty girl. Trust me. You will beg.” He pressed the knife a little harder against my mound. “Now say it. Say yes, Master.”
“Yes, Master,” I whispered.
“Say it louder.” The knife went even lower, rubbing my clit with the burn of seduction on its descent.
“Yes, Master!” I said louder as I tensed. It felt good—but was so fucking wrong.
“Say it again and look me in the eyes like a good girl.”
I opened my blurry tear-filled eyes wide and stared at him. “Yes, Master.”
“Very good,” Roman praised. “You just earned yourself a diamond.” He rubbed the knife up and down in a slow and sensual manner. He inhaled again, brought his lips to my ear, and whispered, “I smell you, dirty girl. I can smell those naughty juices of yours. I have a feeling we are going to have great fun earning your dues.”
I cried harder—more out of shame and humiliation this time rather than fear. The man who escorted me to the room was still standing there witnessing everything Roman was saying and doing to me. I couldn’t look at him, embarrassed that not only could he see me naked, but he was also witnessing me call Roman Master… and no doubt, he could see what it was doing to me. My body hungered for more, and I hated myself for it.
I was his. His.
I now had a Master.
There was nothing I could do. Nothing I could say. My cries grew louder and joined the screams from the other rooms. It was a symphony of misery. A chorus of terror. And as I looked at my new Master, I realized he would be the man orchestrating it all.
Chapter Twelve
Cheri
“So now we begin,” Roman said, removing the knife from my panties.
He raised the blade up to meet our eye level. Glancing at it, I could see it was coated with my signs of fucked-up lust and twisted sexual need. It glistened with sin. Roman was right. I was a dirty girl. Yes, filthy. So fucking wrong. I should be screaming. Demanding freedom. I should be fighting to escape, but instead I was nearly coming on a weapon used to kill.