Page 37 of The Devil Within

I am bored as fuck. Like most days, I woke up surrounded by warmth and comfort. Luke’s hard body was wrapped around me, holding me possessively against him while we slept. He can never not be touching me while we’re in bed—whether it’s his arms wrapped around my core, his hand holding mine, his cock warming inside my pussy, he has to be touching me in some wayalways. At first it made me mildly anxious—this possessive obsession of his. But now, it’s comforting. His woodsy scent and warmth makes me feel safe and secure. It’s nice to wake up feeling good.

It’s not something I’m used to, but I like it.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the conversation I had with Mrs. Prichett the other day. Do I love that Luke and his friend kidnapped me, used me, and then tried to murder me as some type of twisted revenge scheme?No. Do I enjoy living with Luke?Yes. Do I enjoy the freedom of not having to worry and plan and work every second of every day?Absolutely.Am I starting to fall for him?I’m still not sure.

Living here with him is like being on vacation all the time. There’s no one that needs me or my time. I don’t have to worry about bills or money. There’s no anxiety racking through me daily about my overly religious parents showing up in my life to drag me back to the misogynistic hell I was raised in. I haven’thad a single panic attack since coming here. The last time I was panic attack free for this long was when I was a kid. I feel lighter than I have in longer than I can remember. Something about submitting to my master, letting him own me—physically and mentally, has allowed me to escape the heavy weights of my constant worrying and anxiety. There was one day early on when I felt a panic attack looming, but Luke noticed and put me in my sub space, allowing him to take all the control and worry away from me. By the time he was done with me, I was too exhausted to have any suffocating anxiety left in my mind or body. He has set me free. Here, I am just his perfect little pet. And that suits me just fine.

The only thing I miss about my old life is Liv. I miss her smile and her laughter. I miss her taste and the way her lips felt on mine. I miss our coffee dates and the way my insides would twist as she watched me with a heated stare while I licked the sweetened frothed foam from my fingers. I miss the way she fucked me. She’s possessive, like Luke, but it’s somehow softer,gentler. I miss her lithe little fingers playing my body like a fucking instrument. I just miss being with her. Part of me wants to call her or text her, but I know I can’t. In order for their revenge to work, I have to remain missing.

I’ve tried to keep busy with reading, shopping, and cleaning. I work out in the gym everyday and I’ve been learning how to cook and bake from Mrs. Prichett. The fondness between her and Luke is really sweet.

Can kidnappers be sweet?

But I’ve done all that already today; I’ve baked cookies and yet, I’m still bored. I flip through the channels on the giant television aimlessly. Nothing grabs my attention though, it’s all just mindless crap. With a sigh I turn the television off and flop my head back against the couch. My black hair falls in my face and I blow it off my forehead.

Standing, I decide to reorganize the closet. Organizing and cleaning will make me feel good, like I’ve accomplished something, right? I’m still in my spandex yoga pants and sweatshirt so I’ll need to change and look presentable before Master gets home to play with me tonight, but that won’t take me too long. He prefers I have minimal clothes on when he gets home, anyway. I’ll go organize the giant closet upstairs then get ready. Our walk-in is mostly filled with Luke’s suits and sweats but I’m slowly starting to fill it with some things of my own thanks to my rich lawyer … boyfriend? Kidnapper? Sex master?

My very own demon.

I drag my feet as I wander through the rooms, casually perusing. The walls are sparse and the decorations are impersonal. There’s nothing here that tells me much about Luke and his past. He’s told me bits and pieces—his mom was an addict, she lost custody, he went into the system and it was a shit show; he worked his way through college then law school and became the youngest partner at his firm. He’s smart, driven, and has anincrediblecock. But I feel like I’m still missing something about all this. I can’t stop the nagging feeling like there’s more pieces to the puzzle of why I’m here.

My footsteps are soft on the carpeted runner as I head up the grand spiral staircase. The gothic masterpiece is definitely in rough shape but I enjoy the character and history of the space. Eventually we will turn this into a home. I can imagine kids running up and down the spiraling steps. This could absolutely be a home—my home.

It’s a weird thought. Having come from a large, very cold family that lived as part of a religious community, the idea of having a safe and happy home is an unfamiliar but very welcome idea. If I do have children, one day, I want them to grow up free and happy. My kids will have a childhood without oppressive anxiety and judgment.

Yikes, maybe I am turning into one of the Stockholm Syndrome stories you hear about if I’m contemplating kids with my kidnapper.

Just as I’m about to reach out and turn the brass knob to our primary bedroom, a small black door down the hallway catches my attention. It’s Luke’s office. At least, that’s what he says it is. He told me to keep out so I’ve never been in there. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in there. When he brings work home, he usually just spreads out on the expansive cherry wood table located in the formal dining room. But if it’s his office then there must be something in there, right?

Curiosity gets the better of me and I release the brass knob as my feet wander further down the hall. The sleek, nondescript black door is almost hidden in the shadow of the frame. Everything is so ornate, so detailed, in this home that this simple and sleek door is out of place. It’s otherness calls to me, begging me to investigate.

With one swift look around the hallway to confirm that I’m absolutely alone, I turn the knob and enter. I’m thoroughly surprised it’s not locked, but I have followed all his rules, until now that is. He must trust me. A pang of guilt hits me in the gut as I realize I’m breaking one of his rules. I really want to be his good girl, but I’m also a human, and humans are curious creatures by nature. I swiftly step through the door and close it softly behind me. I’m surprised at the room I’ve found myself in.

I expected books and files and a desk. I did not expect what looks like a security room. A whole wall of screens is on one side of the room. The opposite wall is taken up by a large closet. In the middle of the room is a table covered in computers and cords. The lights are off but the brightness from all the screens cast an eerie electronic glow on everything. This room immediately feels like someplace I’m supposed to stay away from.

Moving to the closet, I pursue the shelves. I immediately recognize the demon mask Luke wore when they used me and hunted me. But there’s other masks too. A red Ghostface one with devil horns at the top sticks out to me. I run my fingers across the smooth plastic. It’s nice, but not quite right. Then something colorful catches my eye. On a shelf in the back corner are a few purge style LED masks. There’s a blue one, a white one, and a pink one. The white one calls to me. Something about the light and dark duality feels fitting. Before I get too sucked in though, I decide to move on. Further down there’s weapons—knives, bats, brass knuckles, and a safe which I’d bet anything is full of guns.

Well this is interesting.

Turning back around, I take a look at the wall of screens. Most seem to show footage of the house. It’s a large house but the cameras seem to cover pretty much all of the rooms and the expansive land outside. There’s also footage of what appears to be a modern and sleek townhouse with no one in it. Further down the wall there’s video of a small little home.

Holy shit. That’smyhouse—my old house. Cameras flip through every room of my former home, including the fucking bathroom! How long had he been watching me?

Then a flash of something pink on a different screen catches my eye. I move to a series of screens in the middle and there, moving through her house looking worried, is Liv. My insides curl like something has wrapped around my intestines and constricted them. I can’t breathe as I watch her pace through her house looking nervous.

What the fuck is Liv doing on Luke’s screens?

I can’t hear anything and there’s no time stamp. Is this now? What is she doing? I need more. Hurrying to the computer screens on the table behind me I press the buttons, bringing the screens to life; the screens mirror the wall of recordings but I’mnot sure how to work them. I’m pretty competent at Word and PowerPoint but that’s the extent of my technology knowledge. I begin pushing buttons, clicking, anything I can think to do. I’m desperate to see more and connect to the person I’ve felt the closest to in my life. Eventually I click something, I’m not even sure what, and the screens flicker through images rapidly.Fuck. It looks like they’re rewinding or something. Shit, how do I get it to stop? I begin clicking, pushing, hitting things again, hoping something will work. Again, I eventually hit something and the flashing images come to a stop.

Projected on the screens in front of me is Liv’s bedroom. It’s a mess, per usual. I love her but she is the messiest person I have ever met. Not like I have a ton of room to talk. Clothes and shoes are strewn across the pale carpet of her floor and the plush white duvet on her bed. It’s dark in the room so it must be evening. In the corner, movement catches my eye. A figure all in black stalks across her room. They stop occasionally to look through her things. I can’t see their face but I know that frame, that gait, that body language—it’s Luke. I’m certain of it. He moves out of frame into her closet and a moment later light filters into the room from the hallway. Liv’s hot pink curls come bombing into the room. Her shoulders are sagged like she’s exhausted. She peels her clothes from her body—exposing her tanned skin to me. My pussy throbs lightly with desire as I watch her shed her bra and panties, leaving her completely exposed. The low light glints off her nipple piercings and I can’t help but reminisce about the feeling of twirling those pretty gems around with my tongue while my girl writhes below me. I love teasing her. We both are exceptional at getting the other off.

She moves to the bathroom for a while. I sit in rapt silence, waiting to see if Luke or Liv will reemerge. When was this video taken? It can’t be live because it’s the middle of the afternoon but it appears to be night in the video. She reappears after a bit,wrapped snugly in a cute pink robe and nothing else. She messes with her phone for a bit. I can’t see what she’s doing but I’m dying to know who she’s texting. Was it me? Does she miss me?

Flopping on the bed, she pulls open the robe and I can feel my panties dampen as I watch her naked nipples peak in response to the cool air. This is so fucked up. I absolutely should not be spying on my best friend while she walks around the comfort of her own bedroom naked, and I certainly shouldn’t be getting turned on by it. And yet, I can’t stop from squeezing my thighs together as I watch her crawl to her nightstand and pull a pink toy from the drawer. She turns it on and it immediately starts writhing in her hand.

Holy shit.

Bringing my own hand to the waistband of my yoga pants, I let my fingers slide down to my heated core. I’m already soaked but as I watch Liv bring the pulsating toy to her pussy with her head thrown back and her mouth open in a moan, I cover my own hand with my desire. I rub tight circles around my hardened clit as I watch my girl fuck herself wildly. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be there with her.

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