Page 16 of Their Cruel Love

“Oh.” And there is the scary part.

Razor’s mouth curves enough to reassure me then he places his hand on the armrest and turns it palm up in a clear invitation. Big fingers. A man’s hand. I haven’t held hands with a man for a long time.

After the slightest hesitation, I place my hand over his, and he folds in his fingers, holding me, firmly but not too tightly. The susurration of pleasure is unexpected. Overwhelming. My mouth parts as I look at where this minor cataclysm is happening.

Will he let me go if I tug? I am tempted. I decide not to, this time. Challenging his dominant acts might be fun, to see what reaction I get.

I pretend the hand-holding is a minor thing and lie back in my seat, but my hand remains trapped inside his.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Mmm.” I allow myself to simply feel his hand around mine. It’s as if he’s swallowing me into his persona, claiming me, and I’m reading far too much into this. I need to wake up.

I let out a long quiet sigh and move my fingers. He squeezes down.Oh yes.

I’m so very doomed but happy, even though at the back of my mind I’m thinking about needles, blood, and pain.

The journey in the limousine is unremarkable and mostly silent, apart from the background hum of the engine, and there was that blindfold. When I’m allowed to exit and the blindfold is removed, we are in a car park beside what centuries ago must have been a drawbridge. It’s been converted into a stone bridge and leads across a moat to a curved entryway. A line of faux lamplights shine above our heads to either side of the bridge and reflect off the dark water, below.

The castle is all arches and towers, stonework, and circular windows in hidden alcoves. A long, rectangular pool is the centerpiece in a garden we move through to access a deeper part of the conglomeration of structures. In the distance, beyond a wide archway that is the entry to a new section, the castle’s curtain wall crosses from left to right, obscuring the sky.

Inside is a small foyer, with hallways to either side and another before us that leads to a spiral set of stairs. People wander by, dressed as if for cosplay in themes that range from demonic warrior and mythological creature to plain jeans and shirt. The women are often semi-nude, clothed in silk, lace, and leather, in costumes that match their partners. Razor ascends the stairs first with Brutus behind me.

There are men who seem the lesser partner, and genders that seem impossible to define, between and beyond male and female. I’m sure aliens would fit right in here. A dark-skinned astronaut with a purple tentacle penetrating one side of an artfully smashed helmet, passes us, going down the stairs. Three women in harem costumes follow them. I stare then resume climbing.

I stand out in my red gown. I realized this the moment we crossed that bridge.

Cries of pleasure and pain mark our ascent, echoing, growing louder.

The stairs end in a balcony wide enough to house restaurants. Tables, chairs, sofas, and other furniture I haven’t a label for, share the balcony with people doing lascivious things—fucking, voyeurism, eating, screwing while eating. A man in a hound head with leather mittens pads by on a leash. A woman in red latex and outrageous spiked heels pats his rump.

The balcony circles above an expansive floor below, dominating it, allowing rude but distant study of the sex, sadism, and god knows what else is occurring below.

“Fuck,” I mutter, having stopped dead.

I’ve seen oodles of porn online, but this is nuts. I wish I had a camera as well as time to simply sit and use a vibrator.

“Come here.” Razor clicks his fingers then Brutus does something he’s not yet tried—he pushes me forward, with a finger in the middle of my back. No. Wait, he did caress my back once before when Razor urged him to measure me.

I walk to the sofas-and-table island Razor has claimed. However, he doesn’t sit but draws a package from a familiar bag he’s been carrying…another tissue-wrapped set of clothes.

“Yours. Get changed here, please, and take off everything first. Then we will go on a tour and find you some activities.”

He drums that out as if installing plumbing or asking for toast.

I frown. Take off everything?Crap. Oh crap.My USB package isthere. I do not need this. A little panicked, I survey our surrounds and the people who will see me if I strip, praying I know none of them. They’re strangers, so far. But this castle is huge, and the members of this CNC Fraternityseem plentiful. From the voices and accents, they hail from all over the world.

Chances are someone here knows me. My father was sociable to extremes.

“I have this dress,” I trot it out, weakly.

“The clothing rule.” One eyebrow rises. “You obey the rules.”

The wording comes to me:you wear what I say you wear.

Then he shakes out the clothing, frees it from the tissue paper.

I take it from him and suck on my bottom lip. It’s a nervous gesture I was sure I’d lost years ago. “Wow. Really? This? It’s miniscule.”

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