Page 5 of Isle of Pain

I understand why a second later when a blunt and lubricated object is pressed at my asshole from behind and under the cross. Cold sweat erupts on my skin and a shiver of disgust makes its way over my body, bile rising in my throat.

“Fire!” I spit my safe-word, startling the crowd, as Damian rushes to me.

“Stop her,” he orders the two security guards standing by. They charge forward, pushing screaming bodies out of their way.

Before the dildo can make its way inside me, the person who played pretend at being a domme is wrenched from the stage by the burly security men. Damian removes my bindings quickly and tries to usher me to the room next door, handing me my discarded clothes.

But all I see is my prey.

I stalk to her, naked as the day I was born, fuelled by rage and retribution. My hand connects with her throat as I push her against the wall, and squeeze to cut her airways. Flames lick my skin where it connects to hers but I hold on for the sake of her pain.

She struggles against my hold, her nails scratching and drawing blood at my fist and forearm. I lift her enough so only the very tip of her toes reach the floor. Her face turns a pretty shade of purple. I cock my head to the side, enjoying the view of her struggle. When it’s time to collect for Death, I love to hear the guilty cry and plead. She’s no exception.

Damian and I created this club as a sanctuary for kinky souls and we pride ourselves on being a well-vetted and safe club. She taints that by simply breathing the same air we do.

Behind me, Damian asks Kyara, his wife and the third business partner in our venture, to handle the crowd. I barely hear the commotion anymore, focused only on making the liar in my hand pay. Her eyes roll in their socket as she struggles to breathe.

Damian presses a hand to my chest and I let her go. She slumps to the floor, heaving but alive. Not for long.

I suspect I’m not the only person she tried to rape.

I spit in her face. My voice is cold as death when I speak. “Don’t let me see your face ever again.”

She shivers and nods, tears streaming down her face. Why she cries when she’s the one caught doing something she shouldn’t have and receiving punishment for it is a mystery to me.

“Get her out of my sight,” I tell the two guards then turn to walk to our office.

Damian follows, carrying my clothes and shoes. We don’t talk. We don’t need to.

I’ve known him for three years. He knows I don’t need empty words or promises. Action speaks louder.

When we enter the lavish office, my feet warm on the soft Persian carpet. Damian hands me a robe and I put it on, then I take a seat on the modern indigo velvet sofa, my head falling back on an exhale. With the silence of the room, the marks onmy skin come back to haunt me, reminding me that I wanted them so badly I closed my eyes to the presence of a predator in our midst.

I failed the club. I failed my partners. I failed the patrons.

I failed, again.

Like I’m destined to.

I hiss when a cold and watery substance is lathered onto my skin. My head whips up to see Damian rubbing ointment on my thighs. My lower belly contracts with each caring movement. I’m always so confused by my body’s reaction to his kind ministrations. It makes me hot, but I’m also painfully aware of his attention on me, undivided. All-consuming.

He’s the only one who’s allowed to touch me and only during after-care. We’ve never had sex but he’s an excellent Dominant, attune to my need for pain, with a deep sadistic streak. His wife is also his sub, but she doesn’t like the pain like I do. I give him an outlet for his dark desires and in return, I receive the absolution I need. It’s been working great for us. This was one of the only two other times someone else was allowed to play with me. The previous one had been Damian’s trainee, and very good at respecting my boundaries. Maybe that’s why I had hoped this one would too. But people always disappoint, in the end. I should have known better.

“Stop being such a baby, and let me care for you, Nico,” he admonishes when I shuffle underneath his touch.

I’m not squirming because of the pain. It’s the care he provides when he should be punishing me for being so reckless. I swallow hard and let him do what soothes him. I got hurt, even because of my own fault, and Damian is a giver by nature. I know he feels responsible since he vetted the person we just kicked out.

“I need her name, Damian.”

It’s an order and he knows it. He might be taking care of me now, but when his hands leave my body, I’ll still be the angel of pain he can’t stand. Damian doesn’t know what I do for my brother Andrea, but he suspects. The Capaldi name has enough of a reputation. I certainly do.

I stand to put my clothes on then turn to him. Seated where I was, his head is down into his hands. He grips the strands too tight. He’s gonna hurt himself if he continues.

I’m not inclined to remorse like he is. I prefer swift actions to counteract issues such as the one that arose tonight. A better vetting protocol. Removing problematic people. Permanently, if need be.

He utters the name I’ve been waiting for and I nod once then leave. His wife can comfort him. My phone is to my ear before I make it to my black Aston Martin Valhalla.

“What do you need?” Andrea asks.

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