Chapter 47 - FORTY SEVEN

Chapter 47: Chapter FORTY SEVEN

ANGEL

I watched in dread as he grabbed something else from the wall. A gag. Black leather with a ball in the center.

"No! No please, I’ll be quiet, I promise I’ll—" I began and realized that I had unintentionally begged again. The word had become reflex. He’d told me not to, and my body couldn’t stop, because begging was the only language I had left. He was taking that too.

"Too late, Angel. You had your chance."

He climbed the bed, his body looming above mine. Then, he grasped my jaw.

My terrified eyes latched his cruel blazing ones as he forced the gag into my mouth, buckling it tight behind my head.

The ball pressed down on my tongue, making it impossible to speak.

I could only make muffled sounds now. I was hyperventilating through my nose, my chest heaving.

"There. Much better." He cooed softly. "Now you can scream all you want." His thumb teased my wet face and lingered.

His palm was the only warmth on my skin.

His gaze was soft as he studied me, and for a second, maybe half a second... I thought he might have something human in him. That he wouldn’t do whatever he had in mind.

It was a hopeless absolutely foolish thought.

Because I’d seen that look before. That softness was the door he walked through to get to the worst of himself. He leaned.

Damien’s lips found mine around the gag, his tongue tracing the corners of my stretched lips. When he pulled back, he smiled.

"Too bad, I won’t get to feel you biting me today."

His mouth trailed down my breasts, where his whip had lashed, and he kissed my bruised nipples thoroughly.

"Look at these marks," he whispered hotly against my skin, I could feel the wetness of his saliva. "So beautiful. Every single one is mine." He feasted on my nipples, his fingers groping my breasts.

Then he inched below, down to my stomach and I gasped around the gag when he dipped his tongue into my belly button.

My breathing became broken, heavy through my nose. He licked the spot he whipped, grunting in pleasure. He was tasting his own handiwork. Kissing the wounds he’d carved into me like they were love letters he’d written on my skin.

Then I felt his fingers part my legs wider, and he was leering down at me.

His warm hand gripped my ass cheek. "This ass is fucking beautiful. Been wanting to claim it since the first day."

Something cold and wet dragged across my puckered hole. I instinctively bucked, fighting. Jerking against my binds. Muffled screams came from behind the gag when I saw the black metal thing in his hand.

"It’s a butt plug, baby. A small one for now." His grin widened. "We’ll work up to something bigger after you adjust to this."

I was already scrambling against the cuffs, my muffled pleas desperate and incoherent behind the gag.

"Don’t move, baby, or this will hurt." He pressed the tip of the ice-cold object against me. "Actually, it’s going to hurt like hell either way."

I shook my head frantically. Muffled "no’s" and "please’s" that he couldn’t understand and didn’t care about.

"Relax and let me in or I’ll force it." His grip on my hips tightened. "Your choice, Angel. But either way, I’m taking this."

I whimpered behind the gag, my whole body shaking. This was a part of me he hadn’t taken before. He started pushing the plug inside.

The pressure was immediate. Invasive.

I screamed behind the gag, the sound muffled and pathetic.

"That’s it. Cry for me."

Tears poured down my face. I tried to beg through the gag, tried to tell him I’d do anything, be anything, just please stop, please—

But only garbled sounds came out.

He pushed deeper and the pain intensified. It burned. It stretched. It was too much.

My body tried to clench, to fight, but that only made it worse.

"Breathe through it. Let me in."

I couldn’t. I was sobbing brokenly, my whole body convulsing with the force of my cries. Snot ran from my nose. Drool leaked around the gag. I’d never felt more humiliated, more degraded, more broken.

The plug pushed deeper still.

Then his other hand moved between my legs. His fingers found my clit.

And pinched.

Hard.

The dual sensation — the plug invading me, his fingers punishing my most sensitive flesh — made me scream louder behind the gag.

"You want to beg me to stop?" His voice was mocking. "Want to offer me something to make the pain go away?"

I nodded desperately. Yes. Anything. I’d give him anything.

"But Angel," he said, his fingers pinching harder as he pushed the plug in completely with a sickening pop. "You have nothing to offer me. You’re already mine. Every part of you. Every hole. Every breath. There’s nothing left to bargain with."

The plug settled inside me with that final push, and I collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably.

It was foreign and unwanted and it didn’t belong there. But neither did his hands. Neither did his mouth. Neither did his voice in my head, getting louder every day while Daddy’s got quieter. None of it belonged, and all of it was staying.

"It looks so pretty in your ass." His fingers released my clit, and the blood rushing back made me whimper. "From here on out, you wear this all the time. Until you need to use the bathroom or when I’m ready to fuck you there."

He reached up and unbuckled the gag, pulling it from my mouth.

I gasped for air, my jaw aching. My body shuddered and collapsed onto the bed in defeat.

I believed Damien fully now. That the girl who used to argue with Daddy about bedtimes and fall asleep in Daddy’s arms was dead.

He’d replaced her. Piece by piece. Night by night. Until the person chained to this bed was someone she wouldn’t recognize.