Page 8 of Our Little Dove
Good, she’s waking up. It’s playtime!
Friday, 10:03 PM
I’m lying on a cold, concrete floor when I come to. Pain throbs through my skull and my throat burns, ragged from crying and screaming. I jerk against the ropes binding my limbs, biting into my wrists and ankles.
Oh God! This is really happening.
The damp basement walls press in around me, illuminated only by a sliver of light peeking through the grimy makeshift curtain covering the small window to my right. I’m utterly helpless before this faceless monster and whatever sick fantasies he has in store for me. My pulse hammers as I struggle futilely, raw panic flooding my veins.
This must have been Molly’s plan. I told her I wanted it to feel as real as possible, but damn, if she followed through with my crazy demands, she succeeded.
I am scared shitless, and a little aroused at the same time.
The sound of approaching footsteps echoes through the empty room, and a figure emerges from the shadows. “Hello, baby,” he purrs, his voice dripping with sinister intent. “I hope you’re feeling rested. You have a big day ahead of you.”
Day??
Fuck, how long have I been here?
He has an accent, but I can’t place it… God, my head is spinning.
I try to scream, to plead with him to let me go, but all that comes out is a whimper. He walks up to me, reaches down, and brushes a strand of hair from my face, gently tucking it behind my ear.
His movements are slow, and his touch soft, but something tells me nothing is gentle about him.
Is he trying to ease my nerves only to make it worse when I least expect it?
A door opens and shuts somewhere in the dimly lit basement, and bright fluorescent lights flicker on suddenly, causing my heart rate to spike even more. I blink a few times, trying to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness. As my vision comes into focus, I notice another man standing in the corner, his face covered by a black mask. He looks taller and slightly more muscular than the one kneeling in front of me.
“Consider this your new cage, little Dove,” the man in the black mask growls as he leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. I try to speak, but not a single sound leaves my lips.
“Get her some water, will ya?” the man in the white mask orders, looking over his shoulder.
“Did Molly hire you and tell you to call me that?” I ask, my voice just above a hoarse and shaky whisper. They look at each other and then back at me. “She sure did, Dove. She had quite the list of…ideas,” the black mask says and chuckles as he takeshis leave. Moments later, he reemerges and steps closer with a glass of water.
I hesitantly take a sip as he holds the glass to my lips, still confused as to whatideasMolly gave them.
Maybe it’s part of the act? I get it… They don’t want to ruin the illusion. It’s hot, in a scary way…
Friday, 10:41 PM
We decide to go next door to our studio, Clover Ink, and leave little Alex alone with her spiraling thoughts as part of our game. We want her scared, not knowing how much time has passed in that cold, dark basement, and the drugs in her system will aid in my plan just perfectly.
I gave her an extra special something before she woke up and Kieran has no idea. I made sure the water washed down theevidence,so now we wait for the fun to begin.
I slipped a dose ofDonepezilpast those pouty lips and made sure she swallowed it down before she woke up. I can’t wait to have them wrapped around my cock before the night is over. She will enjoy a mild drug-induced delirium soon. She might have some memory loss, which is preferred in our line of work, but I only want her disoriented and unable to tell time. I couldn’tcare less if she remembers what happens here—we are wearing masks, after all.
The sharp sting from the needle floods my senses with a euphoric high. My cock hardens as Kieran leans forward to inspect my fresh piercing.
He lightly tugs on the bar in my eyebrow, gripping it tightly as his gloved fingers twist on the steel ball. I remember the delicious bites of pain when he reluctantly pierced my cock. Four metal bars lining the underside to create my Jacob’s Ladder.
“All done,” he murmurs as he turns to move away from me. I grab him, curling my fingers around his throat, and hold his dark gaze.
I can smell the faintest hint of mint and smoke on his breath as his jade-green eyes search mine for my intentions. “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” He questions in a serious tone. The chuckle is almost involuntary as I tilt my head, letting my gaze rake over his features. From his messy jet-black hair to the dark scruff dusting his jaw.
I feel a bead of blood trickle down from my fresh piercing and instinctively lift my free hand and swipe my finger through the crimson—never breaking eye contact with him. “You know, brother, blood gets me fucking hard…” I trail off as I wipe the red glistening digit onto my tongue before smirking. “Hmm, wanna taste?”
Kieran’s eyes immediately dart down to my mouth as I hold out my coated tongue with a smirk. He doesn’t make a sound or move a muscle, so I close my mouth. “Don’t fucking stare like that after you pierce me if you don’t like the consequences,” I growl, dropping my hand from his neck and straightening off the chair. “We’ve been down this road before Kieran, no need tomake it such a big deal. Especially since we’ve got work to do soon.”
