Mr. X (The Company Book 1)

“The wicked envy and hate; it is their way of admiring.” – Victor Hugo

Jay

The warmth coursing through my body doesn’t last long. Once the shower is turned off, X brings me straight back to the bed and binds my feet and hands again. I’m naked, spread for him to enjoy. He’s admiring my body from a distance, scratching his chin as he observes my reaction. I shut off my emotions, because I know they would consume me if I allowed them to overtake me.

The belt in his hands makes me jolt up from the bed each time he flicks it. “Are you comfortable, little bird?”

“Yes,” I mutter.

The belt comes down on top of my pussy, and it feels like I’ve been set on fire. He groans at my squeal.

“Wrong answer.”

“Please …” I whimper, tears springing into my eyes.

“Please what?”

“Please, sir …”

A half-smile builds on his face. “So tell me, Jay. What do you want?”

“Anything. Just make this stop.”

“Hmmm … you know it won’t ever stop. You’re mine now, and I intend to use you as I please.”

A tear trickles down my cheek. He licks his lips when he spots it. “More tears, little bird. Give me more tears and I might release you.”

“What?” I gasp, my eyes widening.

He chuckles. “Of course, by release I mean release you of the burden of having to feel so empty. That pussy of yours is begging to be filled.” He bites his lip. “I know you want my cock. You’ll get it soon enough.”

My heart sinks into my feet as the promise of freedom is swiftly taken away again. He just dangled a piece of meat in front of a caged lion. Fuck him. I hate him for screwing with my mind. I’ll make him pay someday.

“Now, stay right there.”

“Where are you going?” I say as he drapes the belt over the bed and then turns around.

“I killed more than five people these last few hours. You’re not the only one who got a little dirty,” he muses. He walks to the bathroom, turns around to hang his tie on the handle, and keeps the door open, giving me a full view of what he’s doing. I raise my head, keeping an eye on him, because I’m looking for any possible way to trick him into releasing me. Anything that catches my eye. I need to see, need to remember everything. I keep telling myself to watch.

However, it’s not that difficult when he starts taking off his clothes. Each button is carefully pulled without him taking his eye off me. His piercing stare makes it impossible for me to take my eyes off him as he takes off his shirt. A ripped, muscular body appears from underneath, his six-pack rippling as he hangs the shirt on the hook. In his right nipple is a straight metallic barbell, the glint catching my eye. His body is littered with tattoos; a skull on his abdomen and a wicked scythe above it. On his arms and neck are tribal tattoos. Together it’s almost like a painting; a warning of the corruption that lurks under his skin.

And yet, it looks so sexy. It’s so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop watching him. He oozes masculinity. Dominance. Sex. Things I haven’t experienced before. Or maybe I have.

I hate this confusion so I turn my head and look at the wall instead, trying to temper my arousal.

“Look at me, Jay. Did I tell you you could look away?”

I return to watching him, because I don’t want to call for another whipping. I don’t even know why I think it’s a choice, like I can avoid being hurt if I do what he says. As if pleasing him will keep me safe. My mind is spiraling into a darkness I can’t escape. His darkness.

He turns on the shower and then continues to pull down his boxer briefs, giving me full view of his ass. Even from a distance I can tell all his parts are well-trained, firm, and without flaws. His ass is a prime example of one I would gladly squeeze. I have to keep reminding myself that even though he has a delicious body, his mind and soul are loathsome. I can’t think about him like that.

Of course, it’s no use. When he turns on the shower, steps inside the tub, and turns around to face me, my eyes gorge themselves on his erection. He has a Prince Albert: a circular barbell right on the head of his cock. To the side of the head is another barbell, pierced right through the top: a Dydoe. Damn.

X seems to revel in the fact that my eyes are drawn to it immediately, as he starts rubbing it with his hands, caressing the length of his cock slowly. With his other hand he strokes his body and bald head, letting the water run along his muscled abs and legs. I picture myself standing there just a minute ago and for some reason get incredibly turned on just by watching him right now. I feel so perverted, so disgusted with myself that it’s happening, but I can’t stop it.

The way he smiles at me, his dark eye glowing like a marble, and the way he slides his hand over his shaft makes my juices flow.

Goddammit. He’s got me exactly where he wants me.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, widening his stance in the tub as he increases his speed.

I just blow out some air through my nose, which I’ve apparently been holding back. My clit is throbbing at the sight of him, but I try to ignore it.

“If that pussy isn’t wet by the time I get back, you’ll be in a lot of trouble, little bird,” he says with a grumbling voice that causes goose bumps to crawl over my body. “So feast your eyes.”

Annoyed, I pull on the cuffs restraining me, but they’re still too tight around my wrists to be able to break free. If only I could get more time to figure out a way to worm my fingers through one by one, I could grab the key and make a run for it. I know exactly where he keeps it: in the drawer beside the bed. The problem is, he’s constantly watching me, always vigilant, which means I won’t have a chance. He needs to be either gone or so far away I have time to free myself. I’ll have to be patient and endure this.

After lathering himself up, he soaps up his cock a second time and makes sure to rub it some more before rinsing it off. Each time I struggle in my bonds, his cock bumps up and down. He actually enjoys seeing me fight my captivity. It’s exactly like he said; he loves my flame and wants to temper it. What he didn’t take into account is that his words and touch are gasoline to me.

He turns off the shower and steps out again, quickly drying himself with a towel before draping it over his shoulder. With a self-confident stride he comes back to me, still fully naked, and he positions himself at the back of the bed, right in front of me. I pull my knees together to deny him access, but he slashes down the towel on my pussy in a quick move. I growl at him as he playfully raises an eyebrow at me. Fucking jerk.

He slides the towel across my pussy all the way up to my belly button and then breasts as he moves to the left side of the bed. When he reaches my head, he leans down and pinches my nipple with his index finger and thumb. A half-squeal, half-moan escapes my mouth as he tugs it hard. Then the towel is suddenly shoved into my mouth and yanked on both sides. I try to squeal, but making a sound is impossible with this towel in my mouth. X lifts my head and makes a knot. Then he picks up a piece of the towel and covers my nose with it.

“Hmmm …” he murmurs as he hears my muffled voice. “Go ahead. Make some sound. I like hearing your fading screams.”

He pulls my nipples again, one after the other, until they are taut and swollen, and then he bends and sucks on them. His teeth graze my flesh, sensations shooting through my body, reaching all the way down to my slippery folds. When he bites I scream, but the sound is blocked by the towel. His teeth pull my nipple and then release again, leaving a bite mark on my skin as he retreats. I look down and spot a red lash mark around my breast. A small bead of blood rolls out.

“Hmmm … delicious,” X whispers, and he licks his lips. He leans in again, encloses his mouth over my nipple, and sucks off the blood. He moans and rises. His hard cock is so close to my face I can see the veins pulsing. I swallow away the pain and tears as he starts rubbing it again.

“You want my cock, don’t you?” he says.

I shake my head. He laughs. “Your pussy thinks otherwise, Jay. But I’ve decided I won’t grant you my cock unless you beg me for it.”

He steps away and walks to the back of the bed. Shivers run down my spine as his big hands wrap around my legs, right above the shackles. “Your pussy is dripping, Jay. You’re staining my bed.”

I frown, feeling insulted by his comment. Like I have a choice. As if he didn’t want this.

“You’re such a dirty girl, Jay,” he says huskily, and then he rubs his cock again. “Even after cleaning up, you’re still filthy.”

“Fuck you …” I mutter inside the towel.

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you.” X chuckles, making me even angrier. He picks up the belt that was draped over the bed between my feet, and folds it again, showing me the holes. “These little circles will be seared into your flesh when I’m done with you.”

“No …” I mutter softly. My breath is faltering. The towel jammed against my tongue and blocking my nose is making it difficult to breathe.

And then he hits my pubic bone. “That’s for trying to look away.”

Tears spring into my eyes as the second lashing begins. My flesh is on fire, my legs shaking as he whips my thighs and pubic bone again and again. He growls, “Scream, little bird, scream. I want to hear you.” The leather bites into my inner thighs. “Keep your eyes here, little bird. Look at me.” I force my eyes open as he whips me again. “If you listen, I’ll be a little gentler,” he says.

It’s a promise I know he won’t keep, and still I obey. Still I keep my eyes on him, on his hand, as he flicks his fingers along the head of his cock. The tip is covered with pre-cum. He rubs himself so hard his skin gets as red as mine.

An overload of sensations hit me as he suddenly stops hitting and my skin is left zinging. My body becomes desensitized, and I’m moving further away from this world. Oxygen is limited and each time I take in a much needed breath, I smell him. I wince.

“Yes, Jay. I’m there, in your every pore. Taste me. Feel me. Smell me. Let yourself be taken, because you won’t be able to resist once you realize you are mine completely.”

I can’t breathe … I can’t breathe …

My mind is drifting away as he suddenly strokes me with the belt. It’s a delicate balance between a gentle caress and the stinging of my red skin. I take a quick breath, expecting the worst. I can’t take not knowing if he’s going to hit me again. I hate not being able to do anything and being left to his mercy. And worst of all, it’s exactly what he wants.

Out of nowhere he stops, and the belt leaves my skin. I’m left in confusion. Emptiness. Withdrawal.

The mattress dents as he steps onto the bed, towering above me. His feet are right beside me, his cock on full display. With a smirk on his face he starts jerking off again. He lifts the belt, so I close my eyes, expecting another hit.

Instead, the tip drops onto my nipple and wriggles around, tickling me.

“Eyes on me, Jay,” he says gruffly.

His hand goes faster and faster, sliding over his cock with eagerness each time the belt slides across my breasts. My nipples become agonizingly taut and sensitive from his caresses. It’s confusing, because it feels good, and yet I know it’s wrong. Maybe that’s why he’s doing it. On his face is a wicked grin, which tells me he can see my confusion. He seems to love it. In this moment I realize he wants this. He wants me to feel agonized by the fact that I have no control. That I don’t know when he’s going to hurt me again. That I’m left to his every whim. He’s still not sated, still not satisfied.

My breathing is ragged and uncontrollable as he teases me with the belt. I keep expecting him to hit me. The stress makes me cough through the towel as I try to catch my breath, but can’t.

He grins. “Trouble breathing?”

“I c-can’t …” I whisper.

“Good.” He laughs.

My eyes widen. “No.”

“Yes, Jay. Lose your breath. Realize there’s no escaping me. Feel the air leaving your body. I’ll be here watching you as your eyes roll back in despair.”

“No …” I mutter again, choking as the air I breathe becomes less oxygenated.

As he jerks himself, pre-cum drips down onto me. It’s an unwelcome warmth. He groans as I fight to keep my eyes open. I need to keep them open, because I want to know what he does. I don’t want to drift. I need to be here. I can’t lose consciousness. But it’s too late; I can feel myself fade out. Not even the belt and his cock can keep me here. “No,” I repeat softly.

“Beg me, you slut,” he growls, jerking his cock like mad. “Beg me to continue and I might be merciful.”

“Please …” I mutter. I can barely get the words out of my mouth.

He chuckles as he keeps rubbing his cock. “Please what?”

“Please … continue … sir …” It takes all my strength and willpower to get the words across my lips, but I make it.

“Continue what?”

In pain, I open my eyes, witnessing the bite mark on my breast. A tear runs down my cheek as I look at him, jerking himself off while he stands above me. The metal in his cock draws my attention, because the glinting reminds me of the stars and how they make me fall asleep. I don’t even know what he wants from me anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t stay awake. It feels horrible. It’s like I’m slowly dying.

“Beg me to come on you,” he says. “Beg me to come, because you are a filthy girl. You’re a whore, and you desire my cum so badly … don’t you?”

I hate the word whore, but I can’t say anything about it. I don’t have the energy to do so. “Yes … sir …” I cough, fading in and out of this world.

“Say it!”

“I want your cum, sir,” I say with my last breath. “Please, come on me.”

X groans louder and louder, and then a huge roar escapes his mouth. He shoots his load onto my stomach and breasts. It comes and comes until I’m covered in it. But my body no longer feels anything. Not the cum dripping down my sides. Not the stinging from the belt marks on my breasts or thighs. Not the tears richly flowing down my cheeks. I’m numb and tired. I can sleep now. It’s done. I’m free.

In the distance I hear his heavy panting and his groans as he settles down onto the bed and leans in to kiss my cheek. When he jerks the towel down and away from my mouth and nose I gasp for air. My lungs expand rapidly and I cough while sucking in much needed oxygen.

“Had a nice trip into subspace?” he asks.

I choke on my own breath and moan from frustration. With furrowed brows I say, “Fuck … you …” They are the last two words I manage to spit out before dropping my head back onto the pillow, but they’re important and I damn well have to throw them out there.

He smiles. “Not yet, little bird. Not yet.”

He tortured and pleasured us both. I’m confused by all of this. Confused by my body’s reaction to his merciless assault. That I’m spent. That I’m sore all over, and that it gives me relief. My ass throbs and my nipples pulse with pain and satisfaction. He’s taken and used my body, yet I won’t give up the fight.

Fuck, he sure likes kinky shit. “You some kind of BDSM master or something?” I ask in a slur.

He laughs. “Me, a master? No. I just happen to love red asses and pleasurable screams. I don’t follow rules. Safewords don’t exist. I told you what I am. Sane is not part of the package. Kink is in my blood.”

Like a happy crazy-ass person he gets up and jumps off me, striding into the bathroom, naked. He fishes his phone from his pants lying on the floor, and then dials a number.

“Bring up some pancakes and strawberries. Separated. Yes. No, no whipped cream. Have it up here in ten.”

Placing the phone on the bathroom counter, he turns his head just enough to be able to gaze at me over his shoulder. “Don’t move, little bird.”

“Why?” I say, still breathing heavily.

“Don’t want that cum to spill.”

I gasp. Shit. This is another threat. I don’t want the pain. I’ll do anything to avoid it again.

“Keep that body slick and wet until I say so. Don’t let my cum drip onto the bed or I will punish you for it.”

Crap. He’s going to make me do this, again? Fuck! I fucking hate him. I don’t want another beating. Shit. I’d rather keep still to prevent that cum from rolling down my breasts and sides than get whipped again. His sticky hotness pools on my belly, filling up my belly button. It feels nasty, but right now that’s the least of my worries. With his incessant evil games, X is toying with my sanity. Soon, I won’t have any of it left.

After ten minutes, someone knocks on the door, and X proudly opens it. Without any clothes on.

I’m left in shock as the same woman from before enters the room with a tray filled with pancakes and strawberries.

“You can leave it on the table over there,” X says.

The woman simply ignores me lying here in shackles, naked. It’s like she’s oblivious to everything around her. I wonder how much X paid her to keep her mouth shut. I wonder how much it cost him to have them clean up Hannah’s body.

With a rigid face X watches the lady put the plate down, a hint of annoyance crossing his face. His eyes narrow as he catches her eyes while she turns around again. For a moment I wonder if he’s going to kill her, too. With X, life is always uncertain.

But the moment passes and X lets her walk out the door. His fists are clenched, however.

“Why don’t you kill her, too?” I ask with courage that appears out of thin air.

“She’s useful, to some degree.” He clears his throat. “Of course, I will still have to punish her someday for letting you grab her cell phone.” He makes clacking noises with his tongue. “You’ve been a very naughty girl.”

“Don’t punish me anymore, please,” I whimper. A yawn escapes my mouth. I’m so fucking tired, I can barely stay awake. I can’t take another beating.

He smiles and picks up the tray from the table, bringing it to the bed. I try to move away, but then realize I have to keep the cum on my body, so I stop immediately. There’s a devious smirk on his face as he sits down on the bed beside me and places the tray on his lap.

“Don’t let it drip …” he mumbles as he plucks at one of the strawberries. Just looking at them makes my stomach growl. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and even though I’m disgusted with the idea of him feeding me, it’s better than nothing. It’s not like he’s going to let me out of these restraints after calling Hannah.

“You must be hungry,” X muses as he looks at my famished face. “Have a strawberry.”

I’m surprised when he doesn’t bring it to my mouth, although I shouldn’t expect anything less from him. Instead, he hovers it close to my stomach. Then he drops it. My belly retracts as the strawberry lands in my belly button. In a puddle of his cum.

He picks up the strawberry and dips it in his own cum, dragging it up my body and along my breasts. Then he lifts it and holds it in front of my mouth. I get the urge to throw up.

“Open up, little bird.”

“No!”

“Watch your tongue. You don’t want to get punished again.” His thumb presses down on my lip, coaxing it to open.

“Do you think I’m actually going to eat that? Are you crazy?”

“Yes, and yes.” He raises an eyebrow. “I could eat them all myself, if you prefer.”

“Oh, fuck you …”

“Such a potty mouth.” He dangles the strawberry in front of me, pushing down on my lip. “Want to eat? You’ll eat my cum or nothing. Your choice.”

I think about it for a few seconds. Tasting his cum is the last thing on earth I want, but I’m so hungry and those strawberries are begging me to eat them. I can’t resist.

“Fine.”

“Hmm …” He groans as he places the strawberry on my tongue and closes my mouth with the tip of his finger. He seems to enjoy me cringing from the idea. Chewing only a little before swallowing, I force myself to think of something other than his cum slipping down my throat. X licks his lips as I finish swallowing.

“Such a good girl, eating my cum.” He pats my cheek like I’m some sort of pet. “Keep that up and I might let you have a bite of those pancakes too. But first, another strawberry covered with my cum. You’re going to eat it all up until you’re clean.”

After ten strawberries I’ve gained enough strength to start a conversation again. Each time he looks at me, more questions spring into my mind. Why does he know me? Who is he? And why am I the target?

I don’t understand any of it, and my heart needs the answers to be able to cope with it all. So I ask, “Why?”

He stops cutting up the pancakes and looks at me. “Why what?”

“Why me?”

He frowns. “I thought we’d been through this already? People want your head. I chop off heads for a living. That’s it.”

“Who wants me dead and why?”

He puts the knife down on the plate and sighs. “Do you think, after all the crap you’ve done in your life, I’m the only one with a grudge against you?”

I frown and look down at the sheets, feeling guilty all of a sudden, although I have no idea why. It’s not my fucking fault I’m in this mess. He can’t make me think that. I won’t allow it. “You were the one who came to kill me. It’s you who wants me dead the most.”

“Correct. I could still kill you any time I wish, if that’s what you want to hear.”

“Then why haven’t you killed me yet? Why am I still alive?” I say, grinding my teeth.

A smile slowly creeps onto his face. “Because I’m not done yet watching you suffer.”