Master B-0361

I t was hard imagining Maggie so pale. Dead. No blood pumping through her veins. No tanned skin or blush on her cheeks from some naughty threat of me fucking her somewhere I wasn’t supposed to. She used to love a good spontaneous fuck. We hadn’t been able to keep our hands off each other.

Once, I’d rushed her into a small ballet studio in our old college. So many mirrors. So many angles. I could still see her tanned limbs wrapped around me. Tanned. Greedy for more. Alive. She wasn’t anymore. She hadn’t been the last time I’d seen her in the morgue. I couldn’t believe it. I refused to accept that she was gone. Not even makeup at her funeral could disguise what had been stolen from both of us… life . But my new slave, she was pale. Not dead pale, more porcelain, but I felt the pull more to her than I had to Pauline, or Mae, as I liked to call her. It was closer to what I was looking for. Seeing that firsthand left me more than unsettled. Maybe I had been going about this the wrong way. I was backwards, trying to fight a truth I couldn’t stomach.

“It’s better this way. You know that.”

My fingers traveled across Mae’s cheek, but I didn’t see the gorgeous slave before me in the dim light. No. Just me and Mags. Just us repeating something we were getting quite good at.

“You understand, don’t you, Maggie? It was never going to work out between us. I keep saying that, but I’m serious this time. I have to say goodbye. I’ve found someone else.”

I kissed lips that didn’t return my passion. They didn’t move at all as I pressed my hard cock against her, adding more of my weight.

“I know you’re mad. I hope you are. I’m mad at you too. If you would have been with me, you’d be alive right now. I would have kept you safe. I would have loved you more than him. I sure as hell wouldn’t have had to find someone new.”

This part I knew well. The blistering anger. The rage that never ended. I locked on Maggie’s jaw, V’ing my hand at her chin. To even say she was Mae was a lie. She was Pauline. Mae was just close to Maggie without being too close. I kept doing this…but not with Margaret. She was close without me having to make her.

“I said I’m leaving you. Kiss me back. Tell me not to go. Say something .”

Tears raced down the sides of her face as she stared up towards me. No words. Nothing. But fuck, those tears left me desperate to have her. They were false hope. A lie.

“Don’t cry. I know you love me. It’s complicated. I accept that. Shhh, baby. Shh. No more crying. I’ll make you feel better. I’ll make it all go away.”

Wetness from the oil I’d applied met me as my fingers traced the outside of her folds. I closed my eyes, biting into my lower lip as I used my legs to spread hers wider. I slid in one finger, moaning as I eased in another.

“I knew you wanted me. I’ve been thinking about you all night. Are you mad at me for going to the auction instead of staying with you?”

Leaning down, I sucked against Maggie’s throat, pushing my fingers deep through the thrusts. As I lifted, I paused through the invading thoughts of my new slave. I glanced towards Mae’s door, not able to ignore the swirl of anger that surfaced. My teeth clenched, and I withdrew my fingers, wrapping around my cock as I leveled against her entrance. Foreplay wasn’t appealing. Reality was turning into role play, and I didn’t like that. My eyes went to Maggie’s and back to the door. Back to Mae, who suddenly wasn’t Maggie. Back to the door.

Harder, I bit down against my teeth, inching into her channel as I let her adjust to my size. Pleasure stole me momentarily from reality, and I let myself get lost in it as I began to slowly thrust. The grip around my cock sucked me down even more, bringing Maggie back to me. Making her appear below as I increased my speed through the need.

“Stop crying, baby. I’m back now. I didn’t want to have to leave you, but you’re making that impossible. Have you changed your mind?”

At the silence, I rotated my hips, burying myself as I held still. My cock was already throbbing, but not for the reasons I wanted. My stare went back to the door, twisting voices in my mind. Sensations heightened, making my cock throb as I fought the flashes of curves under that sheer blue material. Curves and pale skin. Pale, porcelain skin.

“Tell me you’ve changed your mind. Tell me you’re Maggie and you want to stay.”

More tears. It had me withdrawing, only to slam forward as hard as I could.

“Say it, Maggie. Say you’re not going back.”

More hard thrusts. Brutal thrusts. I repeatedly pounded into her nonresponsive body. Minutes passed. She didn’t speak.

“Still nothing? You won’t tell me because you’d rather be with him. Is that it? You’ve given up on us? Just fucking say it. You’ve already chosen. Admit it. You don’t want this. You don’t want me.”

The sound of our skin slapping only had me fucking her harder. Savage. I hated it. Hated her for more reasons than I could process. And now I had images of another woman invading through my moment of closure?

“Just fucking say it, or I’ll make you say it .” My hands locked around her throat as I continued to destroy her memory the only way I knew how. “Say it. Choose your fate. Don’t make me choose for you.”

But I would. Her life was in my hands, and without the ability to move or speak, her death was completely under my control. I could choose to let go, say the code word and make her come back to life, or I could continue crushing her windpipe.

My eyes swept to the door. When I came back, I still saw Maggie, but not her face turning a dark shade in the shadows of Mae’s dim room. I saw my Maggie in a wedding dress marrying my rival. I saw the woman I loved heavy with a child that wasn’t mine. Most of all, I saw her pity each time I begged her to love me again. I saw her anger when I couldn’t stop, and I was so tired of reliving memories that killed me. Couldn’t she see that? Didn’t she know what she was doing?

“Stop looking at me like that. He can’t have you. I won’t let him. Not alive. Not fucking dead. If I have to kill you a million more times to keep you here with me, I will.” Still, I thrust, watching Mae come back to me. She couldn’t gasp. She couldn’t scream. Her eyes were glassing over. Her mouth was opening but only because of the pressure of my hands.

She was gone.

Dying.

Dead.

I watched through the minutes as Maggie split back and forth with Mae. Gone eyes. Empty, like me. My cock thickened and my cum shot into both of them.

Had I care that my slave was dead? No. Was I going to fuck them again as many times as I could before I grew tired of their dead body? Absolutely.

What was love if not self-sacrificing?

I was risking my sanity talking to a corpse. Even though I knew it wasn’t Maggie, I was letting the delusions convince me otherwise. I talked. We laughed. I caressed, I made her dead hands touch me, tease me. We fucked. Then, we talked some more.

Lies had always been easier than the truth. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I’d admit I was unstable. I always had been. The fights. The quick temper. I wasn’t reserved like Elec and the rest of our circle. But I’d gotten better over the years. No…only since Maggie left. I had nothing left to fight for. I was tired of the fight. But that wasn’t just it. If I wanted to face who I truly was, I’d embrace this for what it was. I was every bit as ruthless as the River’s name. As sick as my father. As disgusting as his.

Upbringing? Maybe. I was exposed to a lot from my earliest years. But my parents had been affectionate to an extent. I wasn’t lacking in knowing they cared. I was given the best education and the most luxurious surroundings, whether that was homes or clothing. That put it down to genetics. Was I predisposed to sacrilegious acts? To fucking the dead? To loving them more than the living?

It was debatable. Or…maybe I should just peel back the layers even more and admit that it was truly simple. Desperate, even, but…not very complicated. The dead couldn’t hurt me. The dead wouldn’t leave me. They wouldn’t fuck around on me or even get attitude when I wasn’t in the mood for it.

No. It couldn’t be that simple. Then again, morphed with my already twisted mind, perhaps it was.

“I’m getting hungry, Mags, and I’m pretty tired. Do you think the sun has risen yet? We used to like that. Remember when we spent that one night curled up in all those blankets together in the back of Cade’s truck?” I laughed. “He was so pissed that I’d stolen it, but I hadn’t cared. It was so cold, but not to us. We barely saw the sunrise; we were so consumed with each other. I asked you to marry me that morning, right there on the water, in the back of that piece of shit truck, but you loved it. You always did love the simpler things. You always wanted to escape who we were. Jake did give you that,” I mumbled, losing myself in the other truths I didn’t want to face. “He separated you from the circle. From all of us. I used to think it was because of me, but maybe it wasn’t really him at all. Maybe it was you.”

My fingers stopped trailing along Mae’s cheek, and I stared down at the ghostly white skin beneath my touch, watching her come in clear for the first time in hours. Her lips were blue, and her eyes were open. There was no mistaking the emptiness behind the gaze. Her skin was so cool. So…dead. My lids closed, and I forced myself to stand. As I stared down at my slave’s body, sprawled out and nude, my chest cramped. The pooling of blood had long darkened the bottom edges of her body due to gravity, and I didn’t want to see it. I reached down, fixing her to lay beneath the blankets, but it truly didn’t matter as I opened her door and left her small room.

I should have cared. I should have felt something more than sadness or anger over Maggie. I didn’t. The misery ruled, but I couldn’t ignore how something was different about it too.

“Master?”

I paused on my way to my bed, glancing at my closed door. Margaret’s tone had been low. Almost inaudible through the barrier.

“Master, please.”

Two tiny knocks were followed by a louder one. I headed over, unlocking my door to pull it open.

“Oh, thank God. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you, but I have to go to the restroom. You must sleep like a rock.”

I didn’t even get to reply as she swept passed, shutting herself inside. A groan left me as I looked at the clock on my bedside table. Was it truly already almost eight in the morning?

Only then did a smile come to my face, but it was fleeting. Truth. I pushed it away, grabbing my phone instead. I dialed, turning and collapsing diagonally on my bed.

“Good morning, Master Three-sixty-one, how may I be of service to you?”

“I need a pickup and breakfast. My usual.” I paused. “Make it two usuals.”

“Absolutely, Sir. The guards will be there soon for your pickup, and we’ll have your order up as soon as it’s ready.”

“Great. Thanks.”

I hung up, dropping the phone to the comforter. The water cut off in the distance, and I lifted my head only for a moment as the slave edged out. Her movements were slow. Cautious as she waited for some sort of order.

“Breakfast is coming. There’s clothes in Mae’s room. They may be a little big or small. I don’t know. Make something work.”

The slave looked as if she wanted to say something but kept quiet as she obeyed and disappeared into the entrance. Seconds passed as I waited. A minute. Crashing in the room had me slowly lifting to a sitting position as Margaret came racing out.

“M-Master. I think—” She pointed, words nonexistent as she waved the beige dress towards the closet door.

“She’s dead. I know.”

“But…But, why? How?”

I stood, leaving her standing there as I headed to my separate closet on the opposite side of the room. I didn’t answer as I walked inside, grabbing a dark gray suit. A good minute passed before I heard movement behind me.

“Master?”

My hand froze from grabbing a pair of socks. When I turned, Margaret inched back to the doorway.

“I’m sorry. I only meant to ask if you’d like me to make you coffee. I’m,” she paused. “I’m sorry about your loss. Mae seemed like a lovely slave. I feel horrible that she was sick, and that you’ve…lost someone else dear to you.”

I blinked through her words, closing the distance between us. My head cocked to the side, and I soaked in the fear and hesitancy she held as her light brown eyes gazed up at me.

“You’re sweet. A trait that will cease to exist once I’m finished with you. I should be sorry about that.” I reached out, tracing my finger over her plump, pink lips. “I’m not sorry. Save your pity for yourself, Margaret. You’re going to need it.”