Obsession Ch. 03

"Have you been eating lately?" He looked at me in concern, but also something closer to anger.

I closed my eyes against his remark. "It doesn't matter."

"It does matter. You're not some little waif, Cadence, you belong to me. You have to take care of

yourself."

"Stop." I was beginning to see straight again.

"What is this, a hunger strike? Do you need me to order you to eat?" He sounded exasperated, as though it were that easy. "Or do you need me to hurt you?" His tone grew suggestive.

"No." I rubbed my temples, exasperated.

"I think you do. I think you need to be punished so you learn to behave" He closed in towards me, and I felt my every nerve become attuned to his presence. "Stay seated, but turn: 180 degrees."

I obeyed, not understanding until I was facing his fiancé immortalized in oil paint, staring back at me with an amused look that felt now more like a sneer. I froze as Julian worked quickly, producing zip ties from my kitchen junk drawer. He roughly pulled each wrist down below the seat of the stool and fastened them around the long wooden leg.

"Look at her." He whispered in my ear, standing behind me. "Isn't she gorgeous?" he wrapped his arms around my body, pulling me back against his chest so the zip ties cut into my skin. "I don't tell you enough, but you are truly talented." His voice was low, and unlike him. Cruel.

"Stop it." As I turned to look back at him he grabbed my jaw, forcing my gaze back to Sara's portrait. I felt an ounce of panic begin to grow rapidly.

"You little whore." He made quick work of my jeans, unfastening and unzipping them, not bothering to pull them off any further before pushing his hand into the front of my panties. My stomach lurched, but I couldn't look away from Sara's clear, intelligent eyes. His fingers worked expertly on me, knowing me, using quick forceful rubbing motions on my clit.

"Please." I gasped, my orgasm mounting quickly.

"I want you to understand something." He growled into my neck as his rough, fingers pressed into my clit insistently. "Fucking up my life is off limits."

"Julian, Stop!" I cried out moments before I came, my muscles tensed against my restraints, but I couldn't break free. He kept the same rhythm, rubbing my clit continually despite my whimpering that I was too sensitive. I bucked my hips uselessly, I could feel his hardness grow against my back at my begging. The physical pleasure and pain were so comingled I couldn't differentiate between the two.

"You're going to cum in your panties for me again and again until you learn your lesson." He bit my earlobe and continued relentlessly as I came, hard, a second time. I shook my head, wordlessly.

"Focus!" He pinched my clit hard. "Look at her. This is my future. You're nothing but a worthless whore. I keep you around for my enjoyment." He ground my clit between his fingers as I sobbed in pain and desire. "You're my slut. My slave. I own you. Now be good and don't call too much attention to yourself. I'll be back." The words cut me, as I stared back at the painting. Julian left me with the door wide open and my clit throbbing. Desperately, I tried to yank free of the zip ties, and finding no relief. The dynamic had shifted. It no longer felt like something we were sharing. It didn't even feel real. The anguish I felt competed only with the heightened sense of anxiety, I was terrified someone would walk by and see me there. Enough time had passed that I contemplated calling for help when he reappeared in the door way.

"What do you think?" He walked in, locking the door behind him. "Can you keep quiet?" He walked before me and ripped my jeans off of my legs. I gasped at the sudden violence of his movements. "Because I brought something with me that I think will test that." He pushed a gag between my lips and fastened the buckle behind my head, over my hair. It wasn't gentle like he had done before, letting me pull my hair up so it wouldn't get pulled by the leather straps when I moved. It was clear, he was not overly concerned with how I felt in this moment. "That's better." He pulled out a vibrator with a large domed silicone head. It looked to have a charger, which he left on the floor as an afterthought.

"You thought you were done?" he scoffed sadistically. I called out behind the gag, a desperate, muffled sound. "What is it, slut? Snap your fingers if you want it to end. I'll end it all right now." He threatened. I didn't know if he meant that he'd end the scene or our relationship. I was both terrified of how angry he seemed, and terrified how much I still wanted him. I was revolted with how harsh he could be, and how I had brought it out in him. I hated my body for betraying me, for becoming a live wire or lighting up in desire while my heart was aching.

"That's what I thought."

He kept my panties on as promised, and pressed the wand vibrator against my clit through the soaked fabric. Once he flipped the switch I couldn't help but let out a shriek in protest- he had been so rough with my clit that even the gentlest touch would have been way too much. The ball gag muffled it to a squeak that he barely acknowledged. He ground the silicone vibrator against me and watched me squirm. The sensation, while overwhelming, pushed me over the edge in seconds. I screamed into the gag, beginning to feel exhaustion in my limbs from tensing and straining.

"How did it feel to be left exposed, slut?" He spat, turning the vibrator higher and all but shrugging at the high pitched whine I couldn't help but emit that permeated the gag. "Like someone could come violate something private? And you would be helpless?" he continued. "How did you think I would feel? You could have ruined everything I had built!" Strings of drool began to seep from beneath the gag, I was helpless but to allow it to happen. My body was wracked with sobs of pleasure, of pain, of betrayal. The world began to grow hazy and white around the edges of my peripheral, my vision growing pixelated. The whining hum of the vibrator was drowned by a high-pitched ringing in my ears, and then: nothingness.

When I woke, I was disoriented, in my bed. I blinked, my vision normal. My entire body felt stiff, but it was inconsequential compared to the pain I felt in my wrists. I could feel deep imprints in my skin from where I had been straining against the zip ties.

"Cadence?" Julian was sitting at the edge of the bed. "Oh my God. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." My voice was hoarse.

"I am so sorry." He seemed genuinely shaken.

"I want you to take the painting and leave." My voice heavy with unshed tears.

He stared at me, struggling to articulate himself. After a tense silence, he got up to leave. I listened to his steps draw further away, pausing at the easel, and close the door behind him.