Chapter 26

Twenty-Six

MARISSA

Life underground is settling into a routine. Xavier comes in, probably in the mornings, feeds me his cum, then serves me breakfast. Likely in the evenings, after his classes, he presents again. He ties me to the bench and asks, “Ass, pussy, or mouth.” I get a second meal after that deposit.

I scramble to the door and hurriedly kneel, hands behind my back, whenever I hear him. I don’t know how long I’ve been in the basement and am worried about my family not knowing where I am and about missing my classes. Xavier hasn’t given me birth control pills, and I’m not going to ask again. I don’t like the cane, and he knows it.

I always choose ass during the evening visits because my throat is sore from the morning’s meal, and I’m afraid of getting pregnant by choosing the wrong hole. Each fucking on the bench has become progressively more difficult. After only two times, I started to enjoy getting taken roughly in the ass, my clit rubbing against the end of the bench. The problem is, anytime I experience some pleasure, he canes me and reminds me I’m not allowed to come. When I develop a thirst for the morning’s meal and try to back him out of my throat to taste him, my face is met with a slap.

Whenever shuffles of steps on the stones indicate his approach, I get hot, my pulse pounding faster. Even sitting at the door waiting for him in my position makes me wet between my thighs. When I get into bed to sleep the days or nights or afternoons away, I remember how his cock felt taking my ass and put fingers on my clit. The urge to please myself overwhelms me, but I stop myself for fear he’s watching me through a hidden camera.

The timealone leaves me with nothing to do but think and fantasize. Designing every intricate detail of the art projects, photographs, oils, and watercolors I want to create if I ever escape. Setting up the perfect lighting system in my little studio at the cabin. It’s impossible to envision myself anywhere else, but in that refuge of peace with the Xavier I knew before. I become desperate for it. Clinging to the image of us, there together…it’s my solace.

I miss him. I miss us. After crying over the loss of what we had, I realize I almost walked away from it all. Often, I think about him saying he doesn’t care about the money and was willing to get married after his inheritance deadline to prove how much he wants me. He would let his legacy go for me. His family’s business could get destroyed because I didn’t trust that he truly wanted to marry me.

I remember the day he first took me to our house and told me all the things he admired about me, what he saw that was special. The feeling of love that showered me when he showed me my portraits in the art gallery. Xavier takes care of me and eradicates my enemies. He protects me. He tried to give me everything I wanted. He spoiled me.

I hadn’t trusted him, thinking he was cheating on me and accused him of tricking me, when all he had done was love me. I didn’t even give him time for an explanation. I just wanted to leave. I was giving up so easily on something that was supposed to last a lifetime.

I understand his rage.

However, he isn’t allowing me to talk to him. I don’t know how to tell him all this. I want to beg his forgiveness for trying to abandon him like his mother and sister. Yearn for mercy for thinking he would ever cheat on me and that I would never leave or walk away from us when I became angry with him or if we argued. Let him know that I am in this for life. That I want to get married and have his children.

And what’s the holdup? Why can’t I help his family, soon-to-be Xavier’s own business, and our own child’s legacy by getting married and pregnant now? If I love this man, and I do, why wouldn’t I want to help him and his family by speeding up the timeline of when things are supposed to happen?

How can I tell him this without using my words?

By becoming the best slave he could have. I’ll be obedient and compliant, which I know pleases him. After all the times wondering what my own desires were, I know it now. Submitting to him brings me the most pleasure. This evening, when he asks me which hole, I know what my answer will be…