Page 23 of Voodoo Doll
As the final waxy scales were removed from my body, his voice broke through my stupor. “Now you must hold very still, puppet. I will use the doll to hold you if I must, but I want you to try by your will alone.”
I felt my pulse quicken; what was he going to do to me now? I didn’t know if I had anything left to give.
“I have given you pain and pleasure this evening, but this will be unlike any you have experienced before. It will complete the journey of fully shedding your hurt and heartbreak. After this, no one will be able to hurt you again.”
I took a deep breath, feeling the surface of the table beneath me, grounding myself just a little. I could do this. For him, I could. I would try, at least. I nodded, looking up into his pitch black eyes. “I can do it. I promise.”
He smiled wider than I had yet seen. It was not a kind smile, but I was already committed to this. He had laid claim to me, and I had given myself to him. There was no turning back now. I felt his magic release me from the doll’s power, and I made a silent promise to myself that I wouldn’t move, no matter what he did. I could make him proud.
In a flash of silver reflecting candlelight, Bash’s knife was back in his hand. He inspected it for a moment, and even from this distance, I could see just how wickedly sharp it was. He held it like a conductor preparing to lead an orchestra, then paused over my body. My heart skipped a beat as I began to understand what he was about to do.
“Now, take a deep breath,ma chère. Don’t move. And whatever you do, don’t hold back your screams. I crave them.” I followed his instructions, trying not to hyperventilate as my pulse pounded in my ears like a stampede of elephants. A moment later, a line of fire exploded across my left breast, just over my thundering heart. And I screamed.
Managing to hold my body still with a monumental force of will — and an intense need to obey Bash — I carefully looked down to see a shallow, curving cut, just barely deep enough to allow a few beads of bright blood to well up. One fell down the inner slope of my breast to pool at the center of my chest.
The tip of the blade fell to my skin again, and a new scream ripped from my raw and ragged throat as Bash carved a second line of crimson across my skin that tugged painfully on the first. Then another, and another. I screamed. I begged him for mercy, for pleasure to balance the pain, forsomething. My handsgripped the edges of the table so hard I thought my knuckles would snap.
Slowly, I regained my senses as he set the knife down beside me, its length stained red with my essence. I looked around, then up at him, trying to remember what was happening, where I was,whoI was. I looked down at my chest to see some sort of symbol carved cruelly into my skin, not unlike the ones I saw on the black wax candles he was so fond of. The lines burned like fire, like white hot pokers stabbing me. I moaned pitifully.
Bash stared like a man entranced. He reached out a finger almost reverently, smearing the blood across my chest, writing more symbols. His finger felt hot also, like he was on fire. I heard him mumbling words I didn’t comprehend and couldn’t begin to decipher.
He brought his fingers up to his mouth, and I watched in confusion as he slowly licked the blood from them. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as if in ecstasy, before he looked back down at me.
“Now you truly see, my dark moon, that I can give you pain deeper than any you have experienced. And…” His hand moved to my chest once more, and he placed it, fingers spread wide, across the cuts he had made. “I am the only one who can truly take your pain away.”
There was a small flash of light from under his palm, and a sudden sensation like ice water poured across my chest. I gasped in shock and disbelief as the intense, burning pain of the cuts waned, then subsided completely. When he removed his hand, the blood remained, but there was no trace of broken or slashed skin.
Bash was right. He had taken my pain away. At that moment, I knew that I belonged to him now, utterly and irrevocably. For better or worse, I was his now — and that thought burned everylast shred of heartbreak out of me. There was no room for it anymore. There was only room for Master.
Chapter Eleven
Sebastien
Réclamez-la.Possédez-la. Possédez-la. Nourrissez vos ancêtres.
The call of the ancestors rang in my mind, telling me to claim her, to own her. To possess her. To feed my ancestors her power.
Nothing in this world could have stopped me from doing just that. The rune had been carved with exacting precision, preparing her body for the final offering. Now it was time for me to take what was rightfully mine.
Making quick work of my clothing, I finally freed my painfully throbbing cock from its confines as I stripped in preparation for the final act, the last step of fully claiming this soul as my own. Roughly brushing aside the strips and flecks of the ritual candle wax, I sprang onto the table, straddling her thighs. The tip of my cock wept pre-cum onto her belly as I gazed down at her laying below me. Her eyes wandered to and fro aimlessly, trying to find something to focus on.?
Oh yes, she had truly succumbed to my will.?
She was mine to claim.
I leaned forward over her and licked up between her luscious breasts, tasting blood and sweat and pheromones mixed together in an intoxicating cocktail that had me groaning withanticipation. I moved up further, placing my lips a mere breath from her ear.
“Beg, puppet. Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to take you and claim your soul,” I breathed. Her needy moan and eager nod made my cock jerk, longing to be buried in her slippery cunt.?
“Please, Bash. M… master.” The word — that word — was like cocaine in my blood. My answering growl tore from my throat in the most primal of responses. “Make me yours. I am yours. Use me. Fuck me. Fill me. Please…” She squirmed beneath my thighs, trying to open herself to me. I obliged her, moving one leg then the other in between hers. My length lay against her slick cunt, and the need to plunge into her depths was nearly overwhelming as she began thrusting against me, seeking friction. Even that much contact made my cock twitch with anticipation.?
“That’s right, needy little pet. Just like that. Grind on your Master. Show me how ready you are.” The command fell from my lips with ease. This was right. This was everything. This was home.?
Her efforts redoubled, and I rocked my hips forward, pressing the underside of my cock against her. Her folds parted like silk, and she gasped as I rubbed directly against her clit.
Bending forward again, still sliding my thick girth across her nub, I placed one hand down beside her head, and the other against her neck. Finding the veins on either side of her throat pulsing beneath my trained fingers, I squeezed just enough to make her gasp. Her eyes shot up to meet my own, and I nodded approvingly.
“Right here, my dark moon. Eyes on me. I want to see your eyes as I sink into you. Don’t you fucking dare look away.” She nodded helplessly, and I shifted my hips subtly. The head of my cock met her sopping entrance. Grasping her neck harder, I thrust forward violently, burying myself to the hilt in herscorching heat. Her eyes went wide, her mouth opening with a moan that only made me harden further inside her. I held her neck captive for a moment more, her pulse pounding beneath my fingertips as her face turned red. Only then did I release her.?
