Page 14 of Prelude to Madness
“You what, angel? You can’t lie to me. I know all your inner thoughts. You’re loving this, even though you’re unsure. Everyone’s vanilla until they’re not.”
How could he know what I was thinking? It was almost as if he was inside my head, but how? This was real. I felt and saw him. Felt him moving inside me. That couldn’t be fabricated.
I was damn sure this wasn’t a series of elaborate wet dreams.
“Stay with me, angel. Not much longer now.” I knew he was close. His voice was strained as he neared his orgasm. “Come for me again.”
“I can’t.” But as I spoke the words, I knew it to be a lie. My climax built, and as he filled me with his cum, the force of another orgasm knocked me for six.
He pulsed inside me, pumping me full of his warm spunk. As he withdrew, I could barely breathe, waiting for the inevitable sting as his fluid dripped from me. He’d stretched me beyond anything I’d been used to.
Every part of me was sore: my arse, arms, legs. I needed a long bath to ease my muscles and joints, but I was exhausted. I could sleep forever.
“Lie there, angel. Let me take care of you.” He rubbed soothing lotion into my cheeks. He’d whipped me so hard it would have left marks.
He caressed my skin, relieving the pain. He made his way up to my shoulders, where he massaged the life back into them, after removing the cuffs. Being shackled to the bed for so long, I’d lost all sensation, my hands and fingers tingling as the blood rushed back into them.
The rhythmic movement relaxed not only my body but my mind too. I felt more at peace than I had in a long while. All traces of pain had disappeared, and I was left with a feeling of serene contentment, as if the weight of the world had been lifted.
It was bliss, and I drifted off to sleep.
When I came to next, I was clean and clothed, lying in my captor’s bed. The sheets smelt fresh. How had he managed to do it without waking me?
Another conundrum I needed to solve.
I was alone and feeling well rested. It’d been a while since I’d felt this good. All my aches had gone. My backside no longer felt sore, and my arms and legs were pain-free. I felt like a new man.
As my stomach grumbled, I scooted out of bed. I was desperate for food and didn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Dizziness washed over me, and I stumbled as my feet hit the floor.
I managed to reach the bathroom and relieved myself, viewing myself in the mirror. I looked drawn and tired, my eyes sunk into my head, like a dead man walking. How could that be?
I washed my hands, then poked and prodded my face. What in hell’s name was going on? I looked worse than I ever had, even when I was pumped so full of drugs I didn’t know my own name.
My body was skin and bone, hardly an ounce of fat on me. I’d not been eating much lately, but there was no way to explain my appearance. My skin was pale and paper thin. I looked ill, at death’s door.
Something wasn’t right.
I staggered back to bed. A tray sat on my nightstand, laden with food. I’d heard no one come in, so where had it come from? I crawled beneath the covers and dragged the tray towards me with effort.
Since I’d seen myself in the mirror, it was as if my life force was draining away, as if I were losing a battle to live I knew nothing about.
It took all my strength to eat the food in front of me. A meal I would normally have devoured took me an age to eat. I finally gave up, leaving the majority of the food untouched. I’d managed some fruit, a handful of nuts, and a slice of unbuttered toast.
A hot cup of coffee on the nightstand emitted a delicious aroma, but I had no energy to reach it.
“Here, let me help you, angel.”
My captor appeared beside my bed and lifted the cup to my lips.
“Where did you come from?” I asked weakly, then took a sip, relishing the bitter brew.
“I’ve been right here with you. Every step of the way. Don’t you remember, angel?”
I remembered nothing. My memory was fading fast.
What was I doing here? How long had I been here?
“I don’t know who you are. Why am I here?” I sank back into the soft pillows and closed my eyes.