Page 12 of Savage Queen (Blood Empire 3)

Chapter 5

Queenie

He did a good fuckingjob of keeping his promise. I've only eaten enough to keep me alive. I’m weak, and I hate it with every fiber of my being. I tried so damn hard to stay strong, to not allow what he was doing to me get to me, but after a while, it was beyond my control. I’m tired, always so fucking tired. All I do is sleep, getting up and walking feels like I just ran a marathon.

It’s a good thing I tucked Harlow into the back of our mind, letting her think we were all good and back at home with our lovers. Not sure if she believes it though. Because our reality is grim. I told the world I’d never be brought to my knees again, that I was a cold blooded queen, and they should fear me.

I’ve never felt more wrong than I do in this moment though.

I hear the sounds of keys unlocking the door, and my eyes blink open. I want to demand he let me go, that I’m going to end him the moment I get my hands on him... but everything feels sluggish.

His footsteps sound loud in my ears, like each movement is a beat to a drum that vibrates in my ears.

“Have you been a good girl, Hummingbird? Are you ready to listen to me?” he asks, sounding like someone would when scolding a child.

I want to tell him, to go fuck himself, that I’ll never give him what he wants. But if I do, he’ll leave me here to die alone, never to see my guys, Evie, or my daughter again. So, I do what I have to do to survive, giving myself one last chance.

“Yes,” I croak, my words coming out broken and raspy.

“Good.” He gives me a slimy smile as he unlocks the cell door. “I’ve been waiting for you, Harlow. Waiting for you to want this, to want me.” He crouches down next to the bed, his hand coming up to brush the greasy hair from my face. “I’m sorry it took me doing all this for you to get to this point. But I’m so happy the fire in your eyes is dying. You’re going to look so beautiful on my cock as I fuck you until you bleed.” He says all these things like a lover telling their partner all the sweetest things in the world.

“First, we need to get you cleaned up. I don’t want your body when it’s all dirty and gross,” he says, while putting his arms under mine and scooping me up. My body is limp in his hold, muscles groaning as they stretch.

He carries me upstairs to the bathroom with a tub already full of water, waiting for me, then sits me on the bathroom counter, talking as if what he's doing isn’t offensive. I tune him out as he starts to undress me.

I slip into a mindset I haven’t been in, in years. All while knowing and hating what's about to happen, what's about to come.

When the monsters at the club would use me to their liking, I’d shut down into a robot-like state. I was nothing more than a hollow shell. It was the only way to get through it, and not want to die afterwards. Burying everything so far down, that when I came to, I almost convinced myself it didn't happen.

The water is warm against my skin as he puts me in the tub. He starts to wash me. His hands glide over my body, paying extra attention to my tits and vagina. I just stare at a water spot on the wall in front of me.

When he’s done, he takes me out and dries me off before carrying me, naked, down the hall.

We enter a room, a space that is totally out of place with all the seventies style home decor of the rest of the house.

The walls are black, but the dull glow of a light gives the room a warmth. My eyes move to the center of the room, where an exam table sits. It’s like the ones you'd see in doctors’ offices.

He brings me to it and lays me down. He’s talking again, but it's just a distant hum, because all I can focus on as I glance around the room is the table of instruments. There’s a lot of items I recognize from my table of toys.

Something tells me he doesn’t just want to fuck me. He wants to make me hurt, to make me bleed while knowing I can’t fight back. To give himself that false sense of power that he had once before, when he ran one of the biggest sex clubs in the world.

He grabs my arms, tying a rope around my wrists, he pulls them over my head, attaching them to something on the table.

I feel pretty numb and locked down, right up until he grabs my legs and ties them to the stirrups.

A flicker of fear breaks through the shield in my mind as I lie here naked, open and exposed to the man who destroyed me until I was nothing but a shell of myself, forced to become Queenie.

“Look at you,” he groans, gripping his dick through his pants. “Laying there all ready for me.” He bends down, his face hovering over my core as he inhales. “I’ve missed this pretty, pink pussy. I’ve been dying to have another taste.”

He licks me, and my body tries to jerk away from his touch, but I’m strapped in with nowhere to go. “So responsive already,” he chuckles. I want to tell him it was a shiver of repulsion, but again, no words come out.

He lowers his mouth to me again, but I just stare at the ceiling, willing that block in my mind to stay in place.

When he’s done doing whatever the fuck he was doing, he stands up, unzips his pants, and takes his hardened dick out. Moving forward, he lines up with my entrance.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, Hummingbird. I’m gonna fuck you raw until you bleed for me.” He grins before thrusting forward. I can’t help but grimace at the pain of him entering me. I’m drier than the fucking desert, and it hurts more than I care to admit.

He doesn't care. He keeps fucking me, grunting like a pig as he leans over me while telling me all the fucked up things he’s going to do to me. I lie there, looking at the ceiling as my body rocks with his motions. Lifeless and numb. My wrists start to chafe against the rope with the movements. At first I think it’s tightening with each shift of my body, but after I feel it sliding up and down my wrists, I realize that it's actually loosening.

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