Page 30 of Take Me

“Use the hood,” he says, staring me down as he talks to Dax. “If she wants to be alone, she’llgoddamnget to be alone. The ear muffs too.”

I shake my head wildly. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Mikhail doesn’t react, and I’m about to jump out of the chair to go beg him when Dax drags a leather strap over my stomach, through a vertical slit in the chair’s back, and pulls.

The leather forces me back against the wooden surface as he buckles it in place. Panic sends me into frantic motions, tugging at the strap, wriggling my hips, and throwing my hands back in search of the buckle. But the wooden back is too wide, the slit too narrow to get my fingers through. There’s no way for me to reach it.

I’m trapped, well and good, by one simple belt.

But Dax doesn’t do simple. He proceeds to strap my arms and legs down in several places, forcing my legs wide open and pinning my arms to the armrests, my torso to the back.

When he tightens a final strap over my waist, I can’t move anything but my head. But I don’t think that’s going to last long either as I catch a glimpse of leather straps appearing through slits on either side of my neck.

I cast Mikhail a final pleading look, but he just stands there with his hands folded in front of him, legs wide, as he watches me with a cold expression.Likean executioner.

A bag comes over my head and shuts me into claustrophobic darkness. I whip my head from side to side, clutching my hands around the edges of the armrests.

“I’m sorry,” I whimper, and the worst part is that I truly am. “Please, Mikhail—please, Sir. Don’t do this.”

Leather closes over my neck, pulling the bag close around my head.

“No!” I wail as another strap comes over my forehead.

But no one hears my pleas. No one cares.

And then my world becomes a narrow tunnel of despairing wails and whimpers as ear muffs shut out every sound but my own.

***

Panic slithers through me. A thousand tiny snakes coiling around my lungs and creeping under my skin.

I’ve stopped begging, unable to stand the sound of my own desperation. Now it’s just my frantic breaths sounding in my head like a scene from a horror movie where the girl steals through the woods, not knowing the monster is right behind her.

It’s even worse than the harrowing blackness of the old halls I got myself trapped in.

I startle when something or someone brushes against my thigh, and my yelp resounds in my ears as loud as the scream when the monster catches the girl. Then something is at my pussy—at the hole in the seat of the chair. Fingers smear something sticky between my folds. Lube. The quick, effective motion tells me it’s Dax. He doesn’t see me—never does. No lingering glances on my breasts or lingering touches on my private parts. To him, I’m a machine getting oiled and ready for use.

With the darkness of the old halls having sucked out my strength, I can’t uphold my sense of worth. I slump in the restraints and whimper as my mind wipes out my dignity. A painful jerk tears at my body as another touch startles me. This time, it’s inanimate. A toy of some sort prodding against my opening, sending me deeper into the dehumanized state. I’m not even worth human touch anymore.

My inner muscles contract to reject the object, but the slick lube allows free entrance, and what appears to be a thick dildo sinks into me, spearing me with the knowledge that my body is no longer mine. The toy just sits there, horrible and obtrusive, as Dax proceeds to smear more lube onto my clit and press a new object against it, which he seems to attach to the chair.

I sense him step away, and I give a slight jerk of my hips, hoping to dislodge the unwelcome thing. But I barely have an inch of leeway, and even so, the thing doesn’t budge the slightest. All I achieve is to press myself a smidgen farther into it.

A sudden buzzing against my clit sends a painful shock through me, and my yelp is a loud sound in the hollow void. Another shrill sound rings in my ears as the dildo starts moving inside me. It drags along my inner walls, almost all the way out, then slides back in to hit the bottom of my pelvis. Then it goes back out and in again at the same measured speed. It’s a machine, I realize; not a man controlling it.

I squeeze my eyes shut with the effort of trying to drown out the sensations. But my mind doesn’t have the strength to take me someplace else, and my body reacts without need for permission. Tingling sensations erupt in my sensitive skin as the buzzing keeps going, and my inner walls twitch around the vile intrusion, wanting to grab onto it and welcome it in.

Somehow, I must not be broken entirely because I muster just enough strength to hold it together—hold back the moans and the urge to let the buzzing sensation drag my body into lustful need. But my stamina only lasts so long.

The dildo keeps going, in and out, in and out, and the vibrator keeps buzzing. It seems to go on forever, and finally, my last sliver of mental strength wanes, and my body takes over.

At first, it’s tiny mewls that fill the empty space inside my head, and the tingling sensations spread through my lower body. Then the mewls turn into tiny moans as the tingles become little bolts of electricity that have me jerking against the straps. And finally, the sensations take over my whole system. Long, desperate moans fill the lonely silence, and cold sweat breaks out over my skin as I clench my muscles around the maddening intrusion and spasm under the constant buzzing.

My entire body convulses with the need for release, but the humming vibrations and languid movements of the dildo don’t cut it. It’s not enough to send me over. But it’s too much to allow me to forget.

It keeps going at the same torturous pace in one cruel loop—in and out, in and out, buzzing at a constant low—until I’m teetering on the edge of insanity.

“Please, I ca—I can’t… take anymore.” My voice sounds shaky and frail to my ears, and I hardly recognize it. I don’t recognize myself.

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