Page 8 of Their Cruel Love

“I’m also going to find out what you know about CNC. Even if you do nothing except watch, you will learn something.”

“I’ve looked it up,ummm, CNC.” I blink rapidly, and my gaze wanders down his shirt buttons as I grapple with this. Do I want to? What if we never make it to this party and I, too, disappear? “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“Then why this query at all? Look, Miss Dawkes, you probably can’t trust me…not when it comes to CNC. I will push you to your limits and hold you there until you squeal.” His smile is near non-existent, but it manifests, slowly, as I make myself raise my head and look at him. “Your answer, Miss Dawkes?”

My mouth is open. I close it.Fuck. Fuckitty fuck. I shut down my responses, keeping my breathing under control. “That does not sound safe, but that’s not what we are talking about.”

“Perhaps not. Sir Gregory will vouch for me. You can tell him precisely where we are going and set up a check-in for when we are done. If you don’t phone him, he can come after me. I should sayus. The adjudicator will also be there, watching whatever happens.”

I clear my throat then deliberately face away from them, pace toward the window. I pretend to stare through it. “What will happen there? Can you tell me anything about it?”

What if I find a clue or a person who has seen Milli? How many people could I speak to or show a photo to?

“Men, women, and every combination on the spectrum, fucking with each other, in every possible way. Sex and sadism. Shenanigans and lewdness. Blood, come, spit, and sometimes even burning flesh if someone gets branded. Did I miss much, adjudicator?”

“No.”

That one gruff word somehow puts a nail in my decision.

“Okay. I’ll come,” I say to the window.

A pity Sir Gregory cannot be a safety line since he’sblocked me. There is Seth. He can unleash digital hell if they mess with me.

“Good. The day after tomorrow, be here. No need to dress yourself in anything particular. It will be provided. Now. Stand over here so the adjudicator can take your measurements.”

I freeze. The adjudicator curses.

The curse startles me. “I have a lot of clothes. I’m sure I have something sexy and suitable.”

“If you don’t want to be touched, you will be wearing nothing,” Razor adds, dryly.

Someone else is being fucked with here. I sense an agenda I’m not privy to. Why is touching me so disturbing to this adjudicator? My nipples have risen and are pushing against my bra. I feel morealivethan I have for weeks. More…hopeful?

Am I really going to go back to my nightmares, to moping and hammering the wall in frustration? I’ll be floating down the river, next. This is the ‘something’ I symbolically promised my absent friend. For you, Milli.

Though still shivering with goose bumps at my audacity and, to be truthful, at the sexuality implied, I go and stand in the middle of the floor.

“Have at me, sir.” I fasten the adjudicator with a smirk. “I’ll try not to move. Just be careful with my inner thigh measurement…sir.” Provocative? I hope so.

Skull Face growls then slowly unbuckles his belt and drags it from the loops. I’m horrified. He would not dare. He glares then looks down at my legs, while the belt swings from his hand with the triangular tip brushing the floor. He flicks his wrist, and the ripple of motion makes that tip quiver.

Oh god.My mouth dries but below, between my legs, theopposite happens. He wouldn’t, would he? “I—” The heel of my left foot is lifting.

“He wants you to spread your legs, Miss Dawkes. To measure you. I believe he is starting with your inner thigh measurement.”

“Oh. Oh, I see.”

This is marginally better than what I imagined. For the first time, I regret wearing a short dress and leggings to this appointment. The amount of cloth guarding me down there is not enough. Wanting to look sexy seemed a good idea. It was not.

The douchebag is calling my bluff and, I guess, means to use the holes in the leather as a guide.

The adjudicator grunts as I shift my legs, and he steps in closer.

I am tempted, almost beyond resisting, to snatch off his mask then thump him.

What if he touches my pussy while measuring me? Am I wicked to be imagining him wedging the knuckles into methereas he presses the belt to my inner leg?

His hand lands on my shoulder, and I make a small sound of surprise.

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