Chapter 10

Luna

Stinging pain flooded my senses as Bash’s thumb rubbed along the line of the cut in my hand. He led me past the back room and into an area I’d never seen before. My pulse thrummed, my stomach clenching with unease and trepidation at every step.

“What is this place?” I whispered between hiccupping sobs, my eyes darting around the dark room. It was cleaner than the reading room, less cluttered and unsettling. A large, antique looking writing desk dominated one wall, balanced by a workbench placed on the opposite wall. In between them was a table of polished wood and dark iron. Bash flicked a hand, and candles along all four walls sprang to life just as the overhead electric light was extinguished.

“This is my private sanctuary, ma chère . This is where I will show you how I can take it all away.” The lure of his promise captivated me, pulling me into him, and made it impossible to think of anything else. I needed the pain to stop. And I would do whatever it took to make that happen.

The sound of the lock clicking into place rang through the room like a gunshot, making me jump. “Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked. There was only one thought that sprang to my mind in response.

“Yes. Please, Bash. Please take it all away,” I whimpered pathetically. I couldn’t even bring myself to care. Nothing else mattered. I just needed the pain that clutched my heart like a vise to stop.

As my eyes found him again, shock overcame me as his normally bright green eyes changed to a deep black. With a slow smirk, his eyes shifted lower, taking in the sight of me fully, from top to bottom.

I knew I looked like a hot mess, soaked to the bone and shivering, with my dress plastered to my curves. I couldn’t even bring myself to care that my nipples stood out against the soaked fabric of my dress, leaving little to the imagination. The groan of arousal that left his lips had my thighs clenching. I clung to that sound, needing something, anything, to pull me away from the searing pain of betrayal that tormented me.

The coldness of his hand shocked me as he brought my hand to his lips, our eyes locking once more. He kissed the palm of my hand, right where the cut ran deepest, and I watched him inhale the scent of my blood. It stained his lips as he pulled away.

My stomach turned, and my thighs clenched. Disgust and arousal mingled low in my belly. I could not look away. The slick feel of his tongue made my mind spin as it flicked against the wound, tasting me in a way no one had ever tasted me before. His persona turned from friend to predator in that solitary instant.????

“Bash!” I gasped, equally terrified and aroused at his macabre and hedonistic actions.

“No turning back now, ma chère .” The darkness in his voice called to me like a siren’s song. Releasing my hand, he turned to grab something from a drawer. It was a burlap doll, all rickety and strange looking. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

“What is that?” The truth lingered at the corners of my mind, though I still found it difficult to accept the occult practice he represented. The answer was right on the tip of my tongue, just waiting for him to confirm my suspicions.

“This is a voodoo doll,” he answered with a knowing grin. He could read me like a book. But I had a feeling he was reading more than my expressions. It was as though he could read my very thoughts.

“Is that for me to use on Joshua?” My voice shook, barely a discernible whisper, and yet I knew he had heard me. My mind felt fuzzy, my body buzzing and yet almost numb, all at the same time. I could barely separate one thought from the next. Shock. It was shock settling into me, mind, body, and soul. I couldn’t even bring myself to care. The emotion of catching Joshua and Kayla together still stabbed like a knife, but the pain seemed duller, less brutal. All I knew was that Bash had promised to take it all away. That was all I wanted.

“No, Luna.” His voice pierced through the numbness, luring me in like a spider would its prey. “This is the doll I made for you, the very first time we met.”

Seconds ticked by as my brain struggled to catch up with the words he had spoken.

A voodoo doll? For me??

Realization settled over me like a dead weight, numbness receding just long enough for me to feel the shock, the terror, and the indescribable curiosity of what that truly meant.

“It was you,” I muttered under my breath, almost afraid to speak the words, as though merely uttering them would somehow make it fully real.

“Pardon?”

“In my dreams. It was you. You were the one placing those thoughts inside of my mind. That darkness. Those fantasies.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, the words disjointed as I fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

Dark gaze narrowing, he leveled me with that solitary look, the corner of his lips turning up in a decidedly sinister grin.

“They will become reality, if only you accept, ma chère .”

“They will?” I asked, emotion and trepidation lodged firmly in my throat. My pulse pounded in my veins, roaring so loud in my ears I could barely hear him speak.

“You only have to say yes. Do you have the strength to surrender to the darkness, Luna?” For a single moment, that ominous invitation hung in the air between us, both of us waiting on bated breath for my answer.

“Yes.”

No sooner had the word fallen from my lips than his hand found my throat, wrapping tightly around until I could feel myself growing light-headed. Panic and fear raced through me as he pushed me back until my legs hit the long table that stood in the middle of the room.

“The power of a voodoo doll is not something to be trifled with by the faint of heart, Luna. You must truly, deeply understand what this power represents, what it means , down in your bones. No one can wield this power lightly or flippantly. The cost is too great.”

I instinctively tried to pull away, the tone of his voice frightening me, but his grip on my throat forced me to stay planted before him. His grasp tightened further, and my voice stuck in my throat so I could do little more than nod my understanding. While my heart raced with horror and fear, my thighs pressed together with an arousal I did not understand.

Still gripping my neck, his powerful arms shoving me down prone across the table so hard my head bounced, and I saw stars dance behind my eyes. I tried to cry out, to call for help, to say anything at all, but before the words could move past the pressure of his hand on my throat, the feel of thick, rough ropes slid against my arms and legs as they slithered and gripped and bound me at his command.

Left wrist to the left corner. Right one to the right.

Left leg to the lower corner, and same to the right again.

“ Liez-la !” he called out loudly, a word I did not know, but as the ropes tightened around me of their own accord, I quickly understood.

Stretched out nearly to the point of pain, there was nothing I could do to save myself. His plan was in motion, and I was powerless to stop it. The thundering beat of my heart threatened to break my ribs, my breath nothing more than quick, panicked pants. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as fear settled over me.

“Let me show you how it works, ma chère . But before your true lesson begins, let’s make this more interesting, shall we?” His sinister cackle wreaked havoc on my senses, fear settling deep in my bones as he reached once more for the burlap doll. “I have spent many nights watching you, tormenting your dreams, torturing your mind with lurid fantasies. Now, I can truly indulge myself.”

Slipping the doll into his back pocket, he pulled a long, wicked-looking knife from its sheath in his boot. My eyes widened. My stomach lurched as acid burned my throat, and I choked back a scream of terror.

“No! Please, don’t!” I cried out, tears running down my face. The uncertainty of whether he would hurt me, kill me, or perhaps even pleasure me, turned my thoughts into nothing more than fog.

“Luna, Luna, Luna,” he gently tsked , shushing me as he ran the tip of the knife over my cheek softly, almost as though he were wiping away my tears with the brutal tip of the blade. “Have I ever hurt you?”?

For a moment, I almost nodded yes. But as the fear calmed, only by a slight bit, I realized the truth. I shook my head no. He hadn’t. And yet, even with the weight of that truth, the fear remained.

“Fear is a powerful tool, if you choose to let it be. Stop fighting it. Let it wash over you. Accept it. Embrace it. Just see what happens.”?

The brutal grip of fear made his words impossible to obey as the cold steel of the blade ran down my neck, following the line of my heartbeat. Scarcely allowing myself to breathe, I held myself still as a corpse, the cool touch of the blade burning like ice against my already too cold skin as he moved lower and lower, over my chest and between my breasts.

With a sharp motion, he pulled, and the fabric of my dress ripped like paper beneath the blade’s sharp edge.

I gasped, flinching as he cackled, seemingly delighted by my terrified response. Dropping the knife, he leapt onto the table, straddling me with an agility I did not think a man of his older age possessed. He yanked the fabric, ripping the dress to shreds, and leaving me in nothing more than my bra and panties. Nearly bare to his heated gaze, I trembled with embarrassment.

“Such innocence hidden behind such a sultry dress, ma chère . I long to take that innocence from you. To use it, wield it, and to pay homage to the ancestors with it. But first…” he trailed off, lifting the knife’s sharp blade between my heaving breasts again. “But first, I shall play.”?

The fabric of my bra parted under the blade’s sharpened edge next, ripping from my body violently. The sharp point of the knife followed down to my panties, where he quickly cut each side at the hip before ripping the thick scrap of ruined fabric from between my legs. In the space of a breath, I was completely naked before him. My eyes closed, humiliated by my nudity and bracing for his ridicule.

“Ancestors ashes, but you are a true goddess among mortals, my Dark Moon. I have never felt the need to possess someone so acutely as I do when drinking in the sight of your gorgeous body.”

While I was still trying to process his words, he leapt back down off the table, placing the knife carefully to one side.

Laid out bare, embarrassed, cold and trembling, I watched as he took the doll, whispering so quietly I could not hear a thing. He ran a single fingertip up the side of the doll, paying me no mind.

A tickling sensation ran along my rib cage in perfect time with his motions on the doll.

“Oh, Christ,” I groaned. The overwhelming fear gripping my chest warred with the tickling sensation, which would normally make me squirm and giggle. The combination was almost too much for my mind to handle.

“There is no Christ here, ma chère . Only I. Only Bash. Only your Master.” He flicked the middle of the doll. Crying out in pain, I writhed as a stinging phantom slap struck one of my breasts. My body betrayed me as my nipple immediately hardened further with arousal, overpowering even the depths of my terror.

“Please! Please don’t… don’t hurt me.” Sobs racked my body as I humiliated myself further by begging pitifully.

“Oh now, my Dark Moon, where is the fun in that? I told you, you must understand the power that you wish to wield. Voodoo Dolls can be used to cause all sorts of sensations, and I intend to show you each and every one of them this evening. I’m afraid we are going to be here for quite some time.” His midnight eyes grew even more sinister as he smiled. “Of course, we won’t only be using the doll. I intend to drink my fill of you before we’re through, and I will savor every moment of it. Get comfortable.”

A flick of his finger and an indiscernibly muttered word had the binding ropes pulling tighter, straining my joints to the point of pain. My wretched moan of hopelessness deepened as I felt his phantom hands on me again, caressing my breasts, trailing down my stomach towards my pussy. My core clenched rebelliously as I felt his touch graze across my outer lips, and my mind recalled the dark dreams and fantasies I had experienced over the past days.

“Oh, my good little puppet. What a good girl! See the pleasure I can give you, as well as the pain? The one gives meaning to the other. They are two sides of a coin. Pleasure…” He trailed off, his fingers between the doll’s thighs making me squirm and pant. “And pain.”

I cried out as the touch became a sharp smack across my pussy.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Thrashing violently, I pulled against my restraints, to no avail. I was completely and utterly in his power.

His presence loomed over me before I could register his movement, his hand sliding across my chilled skin to grip one of my breasts. Finding my nipple, he rolled it between his fingers sharply, making my back arch with a groan. With a terrifying chuckle, he pinched hard, twisting roughly as tendrils of pain shot through me.

“Pain and pleasure, ma chère . That is how we will take away your heartbreak. I will take away every thought, save for those of me.”

Panting, wide-eyed, and scared, I was unable to look anywhere but directly into his eyes. “Pl… please. Please Bash. I’m scared.” My voice trembled with my powerlessness.

“Good,” he all but sneered. Fear curdled anew in my belly, somehow mixing with the aching in my core to create a depth of arousal I did not know was even possible. I fell back against the table as he released my nipple.

Turning away for a moment, he moved to one wall a few feet away from me. Several items hung from hooks on the wall; things that looked like whips, or paddles, or long thin sticks on handles. Below them, a workbench sat, littered with other items; sex toys, handcuffs, needles, candles, and more.

He seemed to ponder for a moment before selecting a flogger from its hook on the wall. He paused for a moment, running his hands down the many thin strips of leather, then picked up a vibrator from the table. Returning to my side, he set both down between my legs for a moment.

“As much as I love seeing the fear in your eyes, my dark moon, I like the idea of you blinded even more,” he whispered, removing a blindfold from his pocket and placing it over my eyes, securing it in place.

My breath quickened. Fear sparked anew as he took my sight. Every other sense immediately seemed to become more sensitive. I jerked and gasped as the tips of the flogger’s falls brushed lightly across my stomach and up across my breasts. Cringing, I realized my nipples were hardening into peaks once more at the sadistic touch.

Moments ticked by, the passing time only notated by the beat of my own thundering heart as I waited in rapt anticipation.

“Fuck!” I screamed as the flogger thudded against one thigh. His pleased chuckle was his only response before the torture implement fell again across my other thigh.

Again and again the falls rained down across my body, striking my legs, my stomach, my breasts, arms, even my pussy, each stroke feeling harder than the last. My chest burned with the need for air as my breaths came in short pants between screams. I could not stop wriggling and writhing with each wail of pain as he beat me mercilessly. Warmth blossomed over my skin, and I knew it must be bright red. The thought of his marks on my body had my core clenching with desire.

It would never end. The pain would carry on forever, and I would fall victim to his torture. Sobs tore through me, feeling helpless, hopeless, and humiliated. As I resigned myself to my fate, I heard the vibrator being turned on. Almost before I could process what I was hearing, Bash pressed the rounded head against my lower lips, the intense and almost painful pleasure ripping a moan from my raw and stinging throat.

“That’s it, puppet. Feel the pleasure only I can provide you. Let it overwhelm you.” His voice was full of dark and sultry promise as he spread my pussy open, letting the vibrating head of the toy press directly against my aching clit.

“Oh, fuck! Oh god, Bash. Please don’t stop. Please.” I arched my hips, seeking harder pressure, seeking the orgasm that already threatened to wash over me. Suddenly the flogger was there again, striking my tits and chest, and the juxtaposition of sensations had me reeling. I screamed as the orgasm was torn from me, threatening to overwhelm me completely as pleasure shot like electricity from my clit throughout my entire body. It was, without question, the most intense orgasm I had ever had in my life.

“Please stop. Please! Please!” I begged and pleaded. I debased myself, willing to give him anything in return for a moment’s relief.

“Oh, my pathetic little moon. The night is young, and I am nowhere near done with you.” Chuckling at my pathetic search for respite, he whispered the words in my ear, his tongue curling around the sensitive shell.

The vibrator continued buzzing against me, unceasing, unending and unforgiving in its tortured pleasure over my clit, until yet another orgasm was forced from my body, right on the heels of the first. He abandoned the flogger; the implement dropping to the floor with a thud, freeing his hand to run across my body, slapping and pinching and scraping his nails along my raw, over-sensitized skin.

“Again, ma chère . Again! Fall apart for me once more.” Pain and pleasure mingled together in an exquisite cocktail of utter hedonism. “Abandon all thought, all reason, all sense of self. Give yourself to me, mind, body, and soul. Feel.”

Each spoken command tore through me, forcing my mind to bend to his will, his words spoken in an unknown rhythm, not unlike a chant. The cruel ministrations of his hands, combined with the ever-torturing toy, overstimulated me to the brink of madness.

I felt myself slipping, felt my mind go blank as his words, his very presence invading every corner of my reality. As I finally let go completely, a small part of my mind realized that he had been right once again.

I finally felt at peace.

The stinging pain of rejection and betrayal was gone from my mind, and I let go. I surrendered. I gave in to this. To him.

A needy moan ripped from my lips as his fingers invaded my core. Holding the vibrator against my raw and aching clit, he thrust inside me, plunging and curling his fingers to hit a spot deep inside as stars shot brilliantly behind my eyelids.

Moans turned to cries as they poured from my lips, crescendoing from one to the next in a symphony of pleasure and pain until I finally screamed, breaking for him as yet another orgasm racked my body, so strong this time that as I writhed and undulated in my bonds, I broke.

I shattered. I was completely unmade by the sadistic torment of his pleasure.

Just when it felt like it was too much, when I knew that if he continued one second more, I wouldn’t be able to take it, his hands left my body. The sudden, painful loss of touch was nearly my undoing.

Muttered words filtered through my pleasure-addled mind. The ropes that had held me taut, slacked and fell away, leaving me trembling and shivering on the table. I felt his presence beside me, his fingers carefully removing the blindfold. My eyes winced painfully in the now too-bright candlelight, confused and disoriented, until my gaze eventually found his.

“Lie still, my little plaything.” His voice was calmer now. My fear of him was nearly gone, but I struggled to respond. “Feeling a bit cold, are we?” he asked softly. I could do little more than nod pitifully, staring up at him. “Well, let’s see if we can warm you up, hmm?”

My eyes followed his every movement as he made his way over to the workbench again. His turned back blocked my gaze, but he returned after a moment, holding a few black candles, not unlike those he’d used in the reading that very first day.

There were strange, unintelligible runes carved into them at regular intervals, revealing a deep blood red wax beneath the black exterior.

“We shall continue your education on the power of Voodoo puppet,” he muttered, holding up the Voodoo doll for me to see. “See, I do not need physical bonds to keep you still.” He said with a small smile. Placing the doll beside my head on the table, he made a show of spreading the doll’s arms and legs out to mimic mine.

“ Ne bougez pas .” The unfamiliar words confused me as much as they hypnotized me.

My body went rigid, the magic of the doll taking over.

Slowly, he moved the doll’s arms to its sides, my arms moving in time with them.

I was powerless to stop it.

When he let go of the doll, I was paralyzed, laying on the table with my arms down at my sides and my legs spread. That deep, mind-fuzzing calm descended over me again. With a contented sigh, I let go. I gave up my control to him.

The scent of sulfur overtook my senses as he lit one of the black candles with a match. The odd, slightly too-red flame held me captive, holding me almost as though in a trance.

As he moved it into the center of my vision, the candle’s flame seemed to consume the room, leaving nothing but its flickering, pulsating warmth, and Bash’s black eyes behind it, reflecting the candles in the room like constellations.

“Ahh!” The painful scream tore through my throat agonizingly as he tipped the candle, letting a stream of wax splash onto my chest directly between my breasts. Droplets splashed up onto my chin, stinging before hardening and adhering to my sensitive skin.

Immediately, the fear of being burned and scarred permanently washed over me, but after a few moments, the burning eased. While the wax was hot enough to hurt intensely, the skin beneath its slowly drying surface felt only tender, not damaged.

One deep breath.

Then another.

I felt myself returning to that mindless submission, surrendering to his will.

It didn’t stop me from thrashing and crying out as he dripped wax all over my body; my belly, my nipples, and my thighs were soon all covered. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced or could have imagined. It was painful, yet somehow exquisitely erotic. I could feel my pussy leaking juices, and tried over and over to close my legs, to rub them together, anything to give my clit the friction that it so desperately craved.

“Take a deep breath for me, my dark moon. This is going to hurt.” The need for his pleasure overtook all fear. I obeyed without thinking, closing my eyes as I sucked in a desperate breath.

“Oh, fuck!” I cried, my eyes bulging open, my head and chest lifting off of the table as a stream of wax fell directly across the sensitive mound of my pussy. It was horrifically, perfectly, unimaginably arousing, erasing all rational thought. Falling back against the hard wooden slats with shuddering gasps, I squirmed frantically, trying to find any avenue of pleasure.

My nerves came alive as a sharp sting ran against my skin. My eyes could barely discern Bash using his knife to remove the wax in long strips. Had it been minutes? Or perhaps only seconds? The concept of time evaded me as the sharp edge of the blade tormented each and every nerve ending along my sensitive skin, making it sing with painful sensation.

I cursed, groaned, and begged with every ragged breath for him to touch me again, to give me pleasure once more.

I needed it. I needed him. I needed this.

I let myself come to that realization fully and felt tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as I finally admitted it to myself.

As the final waxy scales were removed from my body, his voice broke through my stupor. “Now you must hold very still, puppet. I will use the doll to hold you if I must, but I want you to try by your will alone.”

I felt my pulse quicken; what was he going to do to me now? I didn’t know if I had anything left to give.

“I have given you pain and pleasure this evening, but this will be unlike any you have experienced before. It will complete the journey of fully shedding your hurt and heartbreak. After this, no one will be able to hurt you again.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the surface of the table beneath me, grounding myself just a little. I could do this. For him, I could. I would try, at least. I nodded, looking up into his pitch black eyes. “I can do it. I promise.”

He smiled wider than I had yet seen. It was not a kind smile, but I was already committed to this. He had laid claim to me, and I had given myself to him. There was no turning back now. I felt his magic release me from the doll’s power, and I made a silent promise to myself that I wouldn’t move, no matter what he did. I could make him proud.

In a flash of silver reflecting candlelight, Bash’s knife was back in his hand. He inspected it for a moment, and even from this distance, I could see just how wickedly sharp it was. He held it like a conductor preparing to lead an orchestra, then paused over my body. My heart skipped a beat as I began to understand what he was about to do.

“Now, take a deep breath, ma chère . Don’t move. And whatever you do, don’t hold back your screams. I crave them.” I followed his instructions, trying not to hyperventilate as my pulse pounded in my ears like a stampede of elephants. A moment later, a line of fire exploded across my left breast, just over my thundering heart. And I screamed.

Managing to hold my body still with a monumental force of will — and an intense need to obey Bash — I carefully looked down to see a shallow, curving cut, just barely deep enough to allow a few beads of bright blood to well up. One fell down the inner slope of my breast to pool at the center of my chest.

The tip of the blade fell to my skin again, and a new scream ripped from my raw and ragged throat as Bash carved a second line of crimson across my skin that tugged painfully on the first. Then another, and another. I screamed. I begged him for mercy, for pleasure to balance the pain, for something . My hands gripped the edges of the table so hard I thought my knuckles would snap.

Slowly, I regained my senses as he set the knife down beside me, its length stained red with my essence. I looked around, then up at him, trying to remember what was happening, where I was, who I was. I looked down at my chest to see some sort of symbol carved cruelly into my skin, not unlike the ones I saw on the black wax candles he was so fond of. The lines burned like fire, like white hot pokers stabbing me. I moaned pitifully.

Bash stared like a man entranced. He reached out a finger almost reverently, smearing the blood across my chest, writing more symbols. His finger felt hot also, like he was on fire. I heard him mumbling words I didn’t comprehend and couldn’t begin to decipher.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth, and I watched in confusion as he slowly licked the blood from them. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as if in ecstasy, before he looked back down at me.

“Now you truly see, my dark moon, that I can give you pain deeper than any you have experienced. And…” His hand moved to my chest once more, and he placed it, fingers spread wide, across the cuts he had made. “I am the only one who can truly take your pain away.”

There was a small flash of light from under his palm, and a sudden sensation like ice water poured across my chest. I gasped in shock and disbelief as the intense, burning pain of the cuts waned, then subsided completely. When he removed his hand, the blood remained, but there was no trace of broken or slashed skin.

Bash was right. He had taken my pain away. At that moment, I knew that I belonged to him now, utterly and irrevocably. For better or worse, I was his now — and that thought burned every last shred of heartbreak out of me. There was no room for it anymore. There was only room for Master.