Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“Enough,” Horakovsky said suddenly, and Dmitri immediately withdrew the vibrator, leaving me gasping and empty. The loss of stimulation after so long on the edge made me sob openly, my whole body shaking with unfulfilled need.
“I want to give you an important choice, Norquist,” Horakovsky said, his voice carrying a note of dark amusement. “Your wife is desperate to come. She’s been on the edge for half an hour, and her body is screaming for release. So I ask you—should I let her? Should I allow your whore wife the orgasm she’s begging for?”
I turned my head slightly, just enough to see Takken through my tear-blurred vision. He sat rigid in his chair, his gray eyes cold as they met mine. For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker there—not compassion, never that, but perhaps a recognition of my suffering.
“No,” he said flatly, and my heart sank. “She doesn’t deserve it. Not yet. As far as I’m concerned, she shouldn’t be allowed to come at all.”
Horakovsky’s laugh filled the cabin. “Interesting. No climax for her at all while she’s at my facility?”
Takken took another sip of his whiskey, considering. “No. Let her learn what real denial means.”
The casual cruelty of it, delivered in that matter-of-fact tone, hurt more than any physical punishment. My own husband had just condemned me to three days of this torture, three days of being brought to the edge and denied, all to curry favor with this monster.
“Excellent decision,” Horakovsky said with evident satisfaction. “You’re learning quickly, Norquist. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.” He nudged me with his boot. “Did you hear that, little cunt? Three days. Seventy-two hours of being edged, teased, used, but never allowed to come. By the end, you’ll be begging to lick my boots for the chance at release.”
A broken whimper escaped my throat. Three days. The prospect stretched before me like an eternity. Already my body thrummed with desperate need, every nerve ending raw and over-sensitized. How could I possibly endure three days of this?
“Put her in the cage,” Horakovsky commanded suddenly. “We’re almost at the facility, and I want her properly ready for her arrival, and grateful to be allowed to stand up.”
Dmitri and Vassily hauled me to my feet, my legs barely supporting my weight. They half-carried, half-dragged me to the back of the vehicle where a metal cage sat bolted to the floor. It was barely large enough for a person to kneel in, the bars close enough that I couldn’t fully extend my arms.
They shoved me inside, the metal cold against my heated skin. The position forced me to remain on my knees with my bottom raised slightly, the plug still firmly seated and now pressing against the cage bars behind me. A small padlock clicked shut, sealing me in.
Horakovsky ambled over to look above me, a cruel smile on his face.
“Only about an hour to go, Fru Norquist,” he said. “Consider how you plan to behave once you’re there. Complete obedience would be a very good choice, but I won’t mind much if you decide you require further discipline to reach that conclusion.”
CHAPTER 20
Lorna
From the cage, I could see out the windshield all the way at the front of the transport. So when we finally reached Horakovsky’s base, I got to witness, as if on a distant cinema screen, the opening of the enormous, camouflaged gate, onto a ramp that angled sharply down.
The vehicle descended into darkness, and my stomach lurched with the steep incline. Industrial lighting flickered to life along concrete walls that seemed to press in from both sides. The ramp spiraled down and down, each turn taking us deeper beneath the permafrost. Through the bars of my cage, I caught glimpses of massive steel blast doors sliding open ahead of us, then sealing shut behind with a pneumatic hiss that made my ears pop.
The air grew colder despite the vehicle’s climate control, and I could see my breath misting in the cage. My naked skin developed goosebumps, making the welts across my bottom throb anew. The plug seemed to shift with each turn of the spiral descent, a constant reminder of my degradation that sent unwanted sparks through my core.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Horakovsky called back to Takken, though his eyes found mine through the cage bars. “We’re already sixty meters below ground level, and we’re not even halfway to the main complex.”
Through the windshield, I saw armed guards at checkpoints, their breath visible in the arctic air as they waved us through. Some wore what I thought must be old Russian military insignia, but others bore patches I didn’t recognize—private military contractors, perhaps. All of them carried assault rifles with the casual ease of men who used them regularly.
The ramp finally leveled out into a vast underground hangar. The space was enormous—large enough to house several vehicles like ours, plus what looked like modified drilling equipment and industrial machinery I couldn’t identify. I noticed that another, identical transport already stood at the far end. Everything was lit by harsh white LEDs that eliminated shadows, making the space feel clinical and merciless.