Page 4 of Prelude to Madness

“I need to know.”

“You need to know jack shit.‌ You’re better off not knowing.” Once again he led me to the bathroom I’d been in before.

He removed the shackles and pointed to the shower, then twisted the dials until hot water gushed from the shower head.

“Make it quick. He won’t wait long.” He turned his back, and I stepped out of the small shorts I was still wearing.

I washed thoroughly, feeling almost human, but before long, the water shut off, and I was left shivering.

“Here, dry off and put these on.” A towel hit me in the chest, followed by another minute pair of shorts. I dried off quickly, conscious of my nudity. I turned my back, hiding myself from my captor.

“Nothing I’ve not seen or felt before, princess.” His voice was right by my ear, and a shudder passed through me. I stood still, silently praying he’d lay his hands on me again.

I wasn’t disappointed as his calloused hands stroked down my length, his erection hard against my arse.

“Is this what you want, darlin’?” he whispered. The coarse fabric of his jeans rubbed against my skin, lighting me up from the inside.

“Yes,” I said, breathless with desire.

“If His Highness wasn’t waiting, I’d be right up this arse of yours.” His gravelly voice made me shiver. Months of celibacy and I was panting like a dog in heat.

He slapped my bare skin and stepped away. “Chop, chop, princess. Time’s ticking.”

Dammit. I slipped on the shorts and followed him into the bedroom.

His Highness was nude again, lounging on his bed, three naked men servicing him this time. One between his legs, his head bobbing up and down, while the other two licked and kissed him as he caressed both their bodies.

I stopped in my tracks. Foursomes were no surprise, but the whole scenario made me all kinds of uncomfortable. Pills and used needles littered the dresser. Rubber tubes and burnt spoons were calling to me, the need for the high they offered shouting loudly.

“If you want to join them, I can make that happen, princess,” my captor whispered in my ear.

Did I want to? Part of me screamed yes. An inner voice yelled at me to climb onto the bed and ride that monster dick. I took an involuntary step forward, drawn to the orgy before me, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Not today. He wants you to play, and neither of us wants to upset him when he’s in this mood.”

I did as he asked, took my place at the piano, and played, spurred on by the live show in front of my eyes. I stood from the bench but kept on playing as the music reached a crescendo, getting louder and louder. It was intoxicating.

Fever burnt through me, sweat dripping from my heated skin. Arousal would come next; it always did. Music was my aphrodisiac. Music was my drug of choice.

“Here, princess. Swallow this.” I opened on instinct, my eyesclosed, feeling the pill on my tongue. I swallowed it dry, struggling to get it down. I was out of practice, and all it had taken was two weeks in a cage to undo all the hard work I’d done to kick the habit.

I opened my eyes. My captor wore a smug smile on his flushed face.

How had I never noticed him before? Bleached blond, wavy hair; black eyes as dark as night, light reflecting like diamonds sparkling in the shadows. Tattoos covered almost every inch of his bare chest. I’d never been a fan, but I was willing to make an exception this time.

His eyes were wild, pupils dilated. High as a kite.

Fuck, I wanted him.

I lifted my hands from the keyboard, and the music stopped, allowing loud groans to fill the air.

I looked over at the bed. His Highness was fucking hard while his partner shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Play the fucking music,” His Highness roared. “I need it.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the bed until a sharp whip to my knuckles had me playing again. Bach, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky. I played them all. The drug I’d swallowed fuelled my music. It was exhilarating, hedonistic, and I fucking loved it.

This was what I loved.

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