Page 39 of Cruel Master
Juliet didn’t find her social groove until college. The girls at school didn’t like her quirky style, and she struggled to make friends. Lucky for me, really. It meant I had her all to myself for a while.
“High school sweethearts. How touching.” Sebastian drains the last of his drink and frowns. “So, what happened?”
“Fuck’s sake, mate. He might not want to talk about it,” Jacob mutters, but I shake my head.
“No. It’s okay. It all went to shit when I started work on Candice.” I take another sip of my drink, then set it down carefully. The room sways a little. Okay, definitely the last drink. When did I become such a lightweight?
“Juliet is a game designer, so she’s used to creating responsive characters, but she’s always been afraid of true cybernetic intelligence. When she saw the direction my research was going, westarted to argue. I had research funding from the university and, well…”
I force myself on. “I lied about what I was using it for. I told myself that once they saw my progress, they’d get on board. Juliet begged me to stop. She had so many safety concerns and said I wasn’t thinking straight. That I’d become obsessed.” I pause, then admit the truth. “She wasn’t entirely wrong. At that point, Candice might not have been ready.”
I shift my head, and the room gives a sickening lurch. I push my half-finished drink away and reach for the water jug instead. “When I wouldn’t listen, she told the university. They took everything. My funding, my research…”
The old anger flickers for a moment, surging up with its usual bitter intensity.
How could she? How could she do it to me?
My hand shakes as I lift the jug, and I stare at it. What…
The jug crashes to the table, water spilling out, as my body spasms, agonizing cramps knifing into my muscles. I scream, flailing. My legs jerk, my chair tips backward, but someone catches me before I hit the floor.
The pain. Oh God, the pain. It’s shredding me from the inside out.
I convulse on the floor, though someone is holding me down. Shouts. Urgent voices. Running feet.
Then a sharp stab to the back of my neck and blessed nothingness.
Chapter Sixteen
Juliet
The worst torture isn’t the drug Saldar gave me or the toys he’s trying to tempt me with. It isn’t the threat of punishment if I fail.
It’s the fucking timer.
I’ve almost smashed it so many times. I wonder if he made it plastic and easily smashable to tempt me to do just that. It doesn’t fit with the dungeon aesthetic, and even that annoys me about it. Why not a big wrought-iron hourglass?
I’m not going to damage it, though. As bad as it is watching the seconds tick away, not having it might be even worse. The sixteen hours left on the timer feel like forever, but at least I know this will end. Eventually.
Another wave of burning need washes over me, and I groan, pressing my body into the freezing cold trickle for the millionth time. It doesn’t help. The water feels like it should sizzle on my burning skin. I thought Saldar was cruel before, but this? This is unbearable. What sort of sick mind comes up with something like this?
Your mind. How many times have you fantasized about just this sort of scenario? If he’s sick, so are you.
Shut up, shut up, shut up. That’s different.
Fantasizing about being deprived, vibrator in hand, isn’t the same as forcing someone to actually go through it. Is Saldar watching me now? I stick my middle finger up, aimed nowhere in particular, just in case. But another pulse hits me, and I grit my teeth, willing my hands to stay still.
It would be so easy. I wouldn’t need the sex toys at all. All I have to do is rub my finger…
No. Stop.
I force myself to stare at the dildo stick—where I’ll end up if I fail this task. The problem is, even that is starting to look tempting. If I shifted on it just the right way, I could probably…
No. No. No.
My pussy throbs as I imagine working the stick inside myself, and I shove my head back into the freezing water. It’s too much. Too much. Any pride left to me melts away, scorched to nothing, and I beg, hoping he might be listening.
“Please! I can’t do it. I’m going to fail. Please, Master. Can you come here?”
