Page 82 of Soul of a Witch

She was right. My mind was at war with itself but I could still see the wisdom in her words.

My nails dug into my palms, the pain keeping me grounded. “I’m listening, my lady. I’m angry. I feel wretched and fucking useless. Like I’ve failed you in the same way I failed so many others.” It was like pulling out the words with fishhooks as I said, “I want to obey you. I want you to bring me back to myself, regardless of how you choose to do that.”

It terrified me to be vulnerable, to be weak – even with her. But only she could guide me back to a state of calm.

“I’m with you, Callum,” she said. “I’m not leaving you. You’re not alone.”

I almost begged her to stop. Stop the reassurances, the kindness. Stop before it stripped me raw. Instead, I bowed my head, accepting her words like a whip’s lashes.

Her fingers curled around her chin, pushing her lips into a delightful pout that made me long to kiss her.

“Undress,” she said.

There wasn’t much clothing to remove, as I hated wearing restrictive garments in the first place. With my trousers tossed aside, I stood naked before her, clasping my hands behind my back yet again.

Her gaze fixated on my cock. Arousal swirled through her like a sudden storm, and she squeezed her crossed legs together.

“Are youalwayshard?”

“It would take a concentrated effort not to be,” I said. “Particularly in your presence.”

I longed to rip that filthy clothing off of her, to kiss every bruise on her, to make her forget her fear in my arms. But to obey her was to suffer, and that was what I deserved.

She lifted her hand, pointing to the shining wood floor in front of her seat. “Kneel and restrain yourself.”

On my knees before her, I paused. “How would you prefer I be restrained?”

She smiled, and my cock pulsed at the sight. “With rope, of course. Bind yourself. Hands behind your back, and keep your legs spread.”

I manifested my ropes and coiled them around my body. My arms were bound behind my back, connected to a rope that looped around my neck. If I squirmed my arms too much, it would cut off my air, effectively forcing me to stay still. With intricate knots, I bound my thighs to my calves, preventing myself from being able to rise from my knees.

My head remained bowed, awaiting the first hint of pain, eager for agony to chase my guilt away. But it didn’t come. Instead, Everly rose from her chair and crouched in front of me. Her delicate fingers tucked beneath my chin, and I winced as she lifted my head.

“You can’t watch me every second of every day, Callum. I need to be able to do things on my own, too.”

Shaking my head, I insisted, “I can certainly try. You’re too precious to risk.”

“Every day is a risk,” she said. “Toliveis to risk dying, always. You have my soul. My afterlife is already yours.”

“Not if the God takes you from me.”

Her eyes were soft, yet so radiant. They drew me in, even when I wanted to look away in shame.

She closed her fingers around my cock. There was still uncertainty in her movements, clumsiness from lack of experience, but that only made me love her touch more. The thick veins in my shaft throbbed against her hand.

“This isn’t punishment for failing to protect me.” She leaned forward, and I groaned aloud as she spat on my cock, spreading it over me with her hand. “This is punishment for trying to hurt yourself.”

She kept stroking me, slow and steady, building the pleasure but taking her sweet time to do it. She gave me a condescending smile as I bent forward, choked sounds forced out of my throat by the rope as it tightened.

“Sit up straight,” she said. “I like to see good posture.”

“Fuck, Everly, you don’t understand what you do to me —”

“I didn’t tell you to speak.”

She kept stroking, slowing her pace every time my shoulders desperately hunched forward. When I dared to thrust my hips into her hand, demanding more in a moment of weakness, she slapped the palm of her hand against my cock.

The sting made me groan, precum leaking from me. My breath shuddered as she grasped me again, moving so painfully slowly. Pleading words tried to escape me. They manifested as furious whimpers that made her giggle.

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