This Darkest Man Page 9

  “Where’s Daniel?” I asked as I began to eat.

  “Working in his study. He’s not to be disturbed,” she said firmly.

  “And where are my clothes?” I asked again. I saw no sign of them.

  “They’re being laundered for you. You’ll have them back when you leave.” She turned to go.

  “And when will that be?” I called to her.

  She paused at the door. “When he says so.”

  I scowled at her. “And what am I supposed wear in the mean time?” The attitude in my voice was foreign to me and I wasn’t sure where it came from. I expected her to snap at me, but instead she just raised an eyebrow and smirked.

  “There’s an outfit for you in the armoire.” And then she left; that nasty smirk still on her withered features.

  I stared after her, before switching my gaze to the enormous antique armoire that stood against one wall. I pushed the food aside, and walked toward it, dread swirling in me. No doubt there would be a humiliating surprise inside it. I pulled at the doors, and they swung open to reveal a large space, empty except for one outfit that hung on a clothes hanger.

  It was clear what it was — a maid’s outfit. But this was no sexy fantasy outfit; it looked like something out of the late nineteenth century. The long sleeved dark blue dress was ankle length with a white apron over the tops. Leather ankle boots lay at the bottom of the armoire and on top of them lay a maid’s cap, complete with lacy ties to keep it in place.

  I stared at it, absolutely confused. This was not what I had been expecting. I had expected humiliation to come in the form of some tarty transparent outfit, but this would cover me from head to toe. What was his game now?

  I nearly missed the card; it fluttered to the floor as I pulled the outfit free. My heart sunk as I saw the by now familiar writing.

  One more cumming, One more question, One more answer

  “Screw you, Daniel,” I whispered.

  The dress slipped on with ease, and I struggling with the dozens of tiny hooks at the back when the stern woman swept in and began to do it up for me without uttering a word. Like I was a child, she dressed me, tying the apron tightly at my waist, and then doing the same with the maid’s cap. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t going to wear the stupid accompanying object, but once again my voice failed me in the presence of a stern, older woman.

  She even put the boots on for me. Just like the outfit, they fit perfectly. She cast her eye up and down me, inspecting her work. “You are to stay here until you are sent for.” Then she swept out of the room and I was fairly sure that I heard a lock turn. That made me run to the door and try to pull it open, but it wouldn’t budge.

  The bitch had locked me in. I wouldn’t give Daniel the satisfaction of hearing me scream for help, so instead I waited. For the first time, it dawned on me that I didn’t have my purse or my phone. They had taken them from me as well, just like my clothes. I really was a prisoner here.

  But there was no panic at that realization; it was more of an anger and frustration at the secrets that were being kept from me. I also realized that I wore no bra or panties underneath the maid’s outfit, and that made me feel even more vulnerable, even though my skin was completely covered.

  I didn’t have to wait long for the woman to return. “I don’t have any panties,” I blurted out as soon as she opened the door.

  “Don’t you dear? That’s terrible. Come along now. They’re waiting.”

  I should have refused. I should have thrown a fit and screamed the house down. But that wasn’t my way. Head hanging down, I followed her. This time I was led to a drawing room, which was heated by a fire. This room was dressed in an eighteenth century style. The velvet covered furnishings and gold leaf that decorated the walls should have given it warmth. Instead, even with the fire roaring, everything was cold; including the men.

  There were four of them, they were older and greying in a distinguished way and dressed in expensive suits. They sat in a row of chairs and regarded me with a cool gaze that made me feel like I was under a microscope.

  “Stay there,” the woman shifted me so that I stood by a stand that held a book. As my eyes cast over the words, I didn’t need to see the title to know that they told the disturbing tale of the House of Usher and its fall.

  “Mattie, gentlemen,” Daniel acknowledged us as he walked in. He was dressed in a suit and although a great deal younger than these men, he still looked just as distinguished and accomplished. Even with the streaks down the side of his face that I had caused.

  I smiled, in spite of the anticipation and dread that swirled through me. Those vicious marks on his face made me feel like I had accomplished something; that I had finally won something. He caught me smiling and gave me a cool look, which lingered on me for a few moments before he turned to the seated gentlemen and gave them a superior smile.

  “Thank you for coming,” he told them, with a geniality, which I knew, was fake. “I would like to introduce you to Matilda Larsen. She’s dressed, for our benefit, as a nineteenth century maid. You’ll have to forgive her if she looks uncomfortable. Being a maid is far beneath Matilda’s station. She comes from a family that was once held in high esteem. Unfortunately, the family had a type of fall and now she’s practically destitute.” He almost sounded gleeful and I averted my eyes, it was easier to stare at the floor. I felt him move behind me and softly touch the nape of my neck that was visible underneath the ridiculous cap. He began to rub there on my skin in a way that was deceptively soothing and it took all my urge not to lean into his touch because I knew beneath that softness were teeth.

  “We’ll need to give Matilda a lesson in what it was like to be a maid servant in those times.” His voice was just as soothing as his touch; hypnotic nearly. “They were practically slaves. Their bodies belonged to their masters who could play with them or beat them at will.” I started to take deeper breaths as I kept my eyes firmly trained on the floor. “Now, Matilda is quite good at being obedient, but I think we need to test her and show her what the consequences are if she doesn’t follow instructions. Look at me, Matilda.” It took all my might to lift my eyes and turn my head toward him. He had stopped touching my neck now. “The Fall of the House of Usher. This shouldn’t be too hard for you; you are to recite it to us flawlessly. The text is here if you need it. If you make an error, if you stutter, if you pause, then you will be punished. Do you understand?”

  I glared at him furiously; my chest heaving and I desperately tried to suck in air. How could he use the shameful lessons that my aunt had put me through against me? As if reading my mind, he smiled. “Do you want to know what that punishment will be?”

  “What?” I said through clenched teeth.

  “One of these fine gentlemen will put you over his knee and spank you. Once he’s finished, you will return to your position as continue to read until you have recited the entire story with no errors.”

  “How can you be so—”

  “Did I say you could talk?” He looked amused, as if waiting for me to argue.

  I chose not to. “I need a blindfold.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “But then you won’t be able to see the text.”

  I lifted my chin arrogantly. “I don’t need to see it. I know it already.”

  He held my gaze for a moment before relaxing. “Very well.” The stern woman appeared with a dark scarf which she handed to him and he set about securely covering my eyes. Automatically, I felt my cheeks begin to cool when everyone was blocked from view. “Just remember, keep reciting regardless of the distraction otherwise you’ll be punished.”

  Distraction? But I didn’t ask any questions. The sooner I got this over and done with, the sooner I would get the hell out of here. This was one challenge that I would undoubtedly win.

  I began to recite in a clear precise voice, no stammer intruded and before long I was halfway through and confident in my ability to complete it adequately. But then I felt my skirts begin to be raised, and two bodi
es brushed against the fronts and backs of my thighs. I stiffened, but kept reciting flawlessly as I steeled myself for whatever was about to come.

  Two hot, wet tongues began to drag over my thighs and my voice went higher. One tongue moved ever so slowly between my legs, while the other made a torturous path over the mounds of my ass toward my anus. I trembled and it came out in my speech but I still managed to continue. Then those mouths were on me, eating me out and I began to shake harder. My mouth struggled to form the words that my brain strived to remember. Then the stupid house of Usher didn’t matter anymore as those two men made me come as a shaking, stuttering mess. Someone held me up as they moved away from under my skirts, and I felt my juices dribbling down my inner thigh.

  “You failed, Mattie,” Daniel whispered. “Be a good girl and bend over.” I couldn’t bend, because I couldn’t move let alone think. As it happened, I didn’t have to. I was bent forward over a hard knee and my skirt was whisked up so that it practically covered my head while baring my bottom. I was still so terribly aware that I must have smelled like sex with my juices glistening on my skin. Again, I was so grateful for the blindfold as the shame of how I had acted in front of these people hit me. The man’s other leg firmly trapped me over his knee and all I could do was wait there, draped and helpless. The hand started to rub my bare skin and for a moment I had hoped that he would be kind. But the rubbing stopped, and a second later a vicious slap was delivered to my backside that had me yelping. Another was delivered to my other ass cheek that made me suck in a breath. The merciless hand alternated from one cheek to the other, the slapping sound seemed to echo around me. I managed to stay quiet for the remainder of the punishment. This was by far more humiliating than anything else I had experienced, and to know that their eyes were all on me as I got what they felt that I deserved. Worse, was the pleasure it gave them.

  “That’s enough,” Daniel ordered, and immediately the spanking ceased and my skirt was put back in place. As I was released and stood, I felt a firm grip on my chin as whoever it was inspected me. “I really thought that you’d be crying by now, Mattie,” Daniel told me.

  That just made me all the more determined. Again, I was made to stand in front of them and begin to recite the story from the beginning. And again, wandering mouths and hands made me climax humiliatingly. Once more, I was placed over a stranger’s knee and punished until my ass burned in a way that had me whimpering. But I would not cry.

  And so it went on like that. I would fail, an exhausted, wet mess, before being punished. It went on for about five different episodes and at the end of it, both my backside and pussy were sore and aching, my face burned just like my bottom. Before I was led away, my blindfold was removed and I was made to face the gentlemen, some of whom still had my own juices on their chins as they grinned.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The woman ran a bath and bathed me. She grinned as the hot water hit my stinging backside and I cried out. I had to stay in the bath until I met her standards for cleanliness. I was too exhausted to argue anyway. After she pulled me out of the bath, she made me lie naked on my bed, on my stomach so my bottom was exposed. I had caught a glimpse of it in the mirror. It was all red, and covered in raised marks.

  “Don’t move,” she ordered, and left the room. I probably couldn’t even if I had wanted to, so instead I just rested my head on my arms in front of me and enjoyed the cool air on my bottom. I heard the door open again and didn’t bother to lift my head. The bed dipped down beside me, and something cold caught me by surprise and my head snapped up.

  “It’s just a cream. It will help with the bruising,” said Daniel. I didn’t look at him and lay still as he began to rub it into my skin. He worked silently with hands that had a gentleness to them that contrasted with everything that I had come to know about him. I lay there, docile, and let him work, hating the effect that he had on me.

  “Why do you want revenge?” I asked, glad that I couldn’t see his face, or he mine. He continued to smooth the cream into my skin.

  “There are a few reasons,” he said, not stopping his work.

  “You said that you’d tell me. That’s part of the deal. I’ve played your games and I’ve kept my end up.”

  He removed his hands from me. “Get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs for dinner.” I felt him move from the bed and heard his footsteps as he walked out of the room. I was left with normal clothes. A short cotton dress with a pleated skirt left me looking almost respectable, although a bra and panties would have helped. I looked young, I noted as I watched myself in the mirror. I didn’t look like a girl who had cum time and time again that very afternoon with strangers.

  The woman led me to dinner. We went through a series of rooms until we ended up in the dining room. “He’ll be with you shortly,” she said abruptly before exiting the room and leaving me alone. I stared at the scene before me, the polished table could have easily seated a hundred guests, but tonight it was set for two. The room was lit only by a candelabra and I hesitantly sat, not at the place setting at the head of the table, but the one to the side. There was no doubt about who was in charge here.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Daniel’s smooth voice didn’t sound sorry at all. I turned toward him; he was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt just like he had worn at the farmhouse. For an instant, I felt my heart lift, he looked like the Clay who I had become enamored of, and with the room lit only by candlelight, it would be so easy to fool myself into thinking that we were back at that decaying farmhouse instead of this opulent, cold mansion.

  “I don’t know why I’m here,” I said softly, almost to myself.

  Daniel took his seat at the head of the table. “You’re here because that’s what I wanted,” he said, his arrogance reminding me that there was no way that I could play pretend that we were back in those wonderful days in the farmhouse.

  A silent servant entered carrying a covered tray, and wordlessly he began to serve us. The food smelled delicious, but I had no appetite. Once the man was gone, I started to speak but Daniel shook his head.

  “Eat first. Drink your wine.” He speared a piece of chicken on his own fork. “You must have worked up quite an appetite this afternoon.” His lips twisted into a satisfied smile as he said that, and there was no doubt in my mind that this man was a sadist.

  I blushed, and moved my eyes to my own plate. I obediently began to eat, but willingly drank, ever conscious of his eyes on me. I helped myself to more wine, nearly guzzling it down in an attempt to dull everything around me. My bottom was mildly sore and every time I moved served as a reminder of my punishment. The wine helped to soothe it, along with my pride; not that I had any of that anymore, if in fact I ever did.

  I only ate a quarter of what was on my plate. It was delicious, but food wasn’t what I hungered for. I reached for more wine, but Daniel caught my wrist easily. “That’s enough for you.”

  His grip was tight as I struggled to pull away. “I’m not a child. You can’t control me and—”

  With a swift action, I was suddenly in his lap. My wrists were firmly held by one of his hands while the other gripped my face. “I do control you, Mattie. You seem to have trouble understanding that.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek with his cold lips. “Your livelihood, your existence, your happiness; I control it all.” Another kiss was delivered to my jaw, which made me lift my head and extend my neck almost in invitation. Damn body, damn wine, making me react this way…

  But at the same time, a chill went down my spine at his words. Everything he said was true. He’d taken my home; he’d made me into a lovesick fool…

  “Why?” I rasped out as his mouth touched the base of my neck. This time it was an open mouthed kiss and I felt it suck onto my skin like he was trying to drink my blood. I shivered, nearly in lust as he released my face and moved his hand down beneath my skirt as he continued to attack my neck with vampire like kisses. He stroked me gently and his mouth kissed me harder, sure to leave me with a ring
of bright marks damaging my white neck.

  “Your father ruined my mother. He took all her money with his scams and left her destitute,” he murmured against my skin. His fingers never paused stroking me as he spoke, if anything, they became more urgent. It was hard to process his words with his fingers masterfully playing with me, but part of my mind wasn’t shocked. My father had screwed over a lot of people. I sucked in breaths as he brought me close to cumming and I felt myself clench around his fingers. “But that’s not the only time your family has hurt mine. I might let you know that another time, if you’re obedient.” His voice was soft and sensual; as if he weren’t speaking of revenge. It was hard to concentrate and I let out a soft moan as I tried to arch toward him and push those fingers deeper in me. I was so close, but I wanted his cock. I wanted to be filled up completely by him. “So I thought what would be more perfect than to make the spoiled Larsen princess into a dirty little whore.”

  The word whore spun in my mind like a cruel, spiked Morningstar, crashing and piercing into my brain. But my body wasn’t doing what my mind said; it was doing what he wanted.

  “P-please,” I whimpered as his fingers began to slow and I felt my climax slipping away. “I have to…I have to…”

  A slow smile spread over his face, and his fingers were withdrawn from my aching, wet pussy before any satisfaction was achieved. I looked at him in horror and wanted to sob. Since when had the need to cum turned me into such a needy, empty-headed slut? Even with his mean words, all I wanted was release, as if his horrible comments were turning me on more and more.

  “This is revenge. Why would I make cumming easy for you?” he asked, his eyes searching me as if waiting for me to amuse him.