The Game Maker by Kitty Thomas

Author:Kitty Thomas [Thomas, Kitty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Burlesque Press
Published: 2020-07-14T18:30:00+00:00

7

Several days pass, and a routine is formed. I sleep in my captor's bed with him each night. He fondles me. He fucks me. He lies behind me and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into him—the little spoon—as though we’re normal lovers. As though I mean something to him. This intimate cuddling is what unmakes me the most; it's the thing that makes it harder and harder to think of escape.

He's trained me to wake him with a blow job each morning and to swallow like a good girl. When I complete this task, he rewards me with those words which fill me with an inappropriate pride each time I hear them. After that, he feeds me, bathes me, and then takes me to the dungeon where he forces orgasm after orgasm out of me until he's satisfied.

It's easier to please him with blow jobs. In the dungeon, he never seems to want to allow my body rest. It's his fingers, his tongue, the vibrator, his cock. Over and over until I've lost track of the orgasms. And I'm supposed to count them. When I forget to count or lose track of how many, he punishes me.

His punishments hurt but haven't been overly harsh. I've never felt I was in true physical danger from them.

And every day he spends a lot of time on my ass. First it was his finger, lubed, pressing into me. I squirmed away at first, terrified, but he petted my hair and spoke soft words and was so gentle that I let my body relax until it did feel good. Strange, but also somehow pleasurable.

Since then he's been working me up with toys and butt plugs, slowly stretching me. I know what he's preparing me for, and a dark part of me is excited.

There’s a strange comfort in this routine, much like the one I'd formed with Seven for those few days when he touched me in the dark at night.

I'm worried about Seven. Is he alive? Is he hurt? Is he being neglected? Is he being fed? I wish I knew what was happening to him. Does our captor feed him when he's not with me? I've been afraid to ask. He hasn't given any indication he doesn't still want to share me, so maybe that guarantees Seven's safety and continuing existence.

Today after our daily routine, he takes me to a small room with large screens along the wall, revealing different angles of the cell Seven is in.

“Sit,” he orders.

I sit in the rolling leather chair, and he binds my wrists to the arms using cable ties from a desk nearby.

“Stay. And watch that screen.” I couldn't disobey the first order, unless I got out of the room and rolled down the hallway.

Before I can respond, he's gone. I turn my gaze back to the screen. Seven is chained in the cell. He can't have been chained the entire time because he looks clean, and the cell is clean. He's obviously used the bathroom and shower facilities.

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