For the ones seeking death, I’m their salvation. They think when they come to my door that I’ll assist with the one thing they’re afraid to do alone. Die. Little do they know, I have a lot more in store than a one way ticket to heaven or hell. Four weeks of being my slave and I’ll grant their suicidal wish…or so they think.
When Death sought Diane, I wasn’t leaving her a choice to seek out my help. Her pain and determination was more than I’d ever seen and I knew I was the only one who could save her. Even if it meant becoming the hell she was so desperate to escape.
But will it be enough to make her choose life? Will I be able to let her go when she gets better? Or will the Master in me deny freedom to the perfect slave?
WARNING: THIS IS A DARK EROTIC ROMANCE AND CONTAINS DISTURBING SITUATIONS, DUBIOUS CONSENT, EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, AND VERY GRAPHIC LANGUAGE. (Also includes knife play/blood play, consensual cutting, and breath play. If you are not comfortable with these situations, DO NOT read this book!
“Your death will come when I say. Maybe sooner than you think. Maybe years from now. You’re the worst fucking slave I’ve ever had. You don’t listen for shit. Why should I give you what you want? You deserve nothing. What gives you the right for a sense of entitlement? Nothing,” I exploded.
“You’re already dead, remember? I fucking killed you when you walked through my door. What you suffered with your family is great, but not more than others have had to endure. I meant to show you that, but you’ve ruined it.”
A sob broke through, a scream taking over it at the end. Her head shook back and forth and I grabbed it, holding her still to look up at me.
“You want to be free, then become my slave for real. Bend to my every command. Address me as you’re meant to.” I licked over her bottom lip and she trembled underneath me. “You bow to me and I will grant your wish.”
“I hate you,” she gritted out. “I hate you!”
A laugh did come then. “I didn’t expect you to make it easy, but if you want death, you’ll endure the perils of hell first. The only way to experience the true meaning of that is to survive what I have in store. The real me. The one you’ve only caught glimpses of. And not just sexually, either. It’s that, or you can rot away in this room until you die of old age. No one will look for you, Diane. As far as anyone is concerned, you either ran away or offed yourself where no one could find you. They already expect it. They’ll never know to look here. If Jaime comes to your pretty little mind and you think him picking you up will lead police to where you are, you’re wasting your time. He dropped you off at your new safehouse. Doreen will testify to you showing up. But then, you left.”
“You left and disappeared, slave. You’re dead,” I whispered. “Just like you wanted to be.”
“I want you dead. I’ll kill you,” she exploded. “I’ll fucking—”
“You’ll what?” My fingers pushed in harder until she was crying out. “You’ll obey is what you’ll do. Now, say it. Say I’m your Master.”
A long, heartbreaking sound had the crying coming back.
“Speak.” My hand slapped her face — not hard enough to hurt her, but definitely enough to bring her back around.
“Never. Fucking, never.”
I ripped her from the bed, wrapping my arm around her throat as I let her toes search the ground for footing. I knew I was choking her, but she could still get air. Nails tore into my arm as I walked over and grabbed the remote. As I hit the buttons, changing the disc, Diane began to still in my arms. I knew she thought I was putting on more grisly suicides, but she was wrong. So fucking wrong.
Laughter filled the room, the sweet sound of a child. Her child. Weight pulled against my arm as her legs temporarily gave out. Like someone had hooked her to life support, she turned into a mad woman, giving me the fight of my life as she tried to flee.
“Mommy! Look!” Dark curls bounced as Caylee ran closer to the handheld camera, holding up a new doll. Wrapping paper was everywhere on the floor and the blue, red, green, and white lights from the tree blurred in the background.
“Look at that, Caylee.” Diane walked onto the screen and a man laughed. The voice was close and it was evident he was the one holding the camera.
“No more,” she said, slowing. Sobs were shaking her so hard that I felt them deep within my soul. Fingers pushed into my bloody skin, holding on for dear life. The pain I had felt only moments ago was nonexistent as I watched her heart break right in front of me.
My grip loosened as I pushed her to her knees and positioned myself behind her, still keeping my arm around her throat, just in case.
“Kneeling is crucial. I expect you to do this for me. Now, embrace your memories, slave. That’s your daughter. You turning your back on her is the worst thing you can do. Face your fears,” I said, turning my voice into a whisperer. “Look at how beautiful she is.”
Weight rested into me as she continued to hold on and watch. The fight in her was gone as she stared at the TV, crying. The contrast of the laughter and sobs broke through my walls and I made my other arm wrap around her stomach as I pulled her closer between my thighs. To have seen her, to have known her in her happy past, to have had something like that for myself…
About the Author:
Alaska is an erotic BDSM author who also goes by the pen names Jennifer Salaiz and Jenny May. She lives in the SF Bay area...for now. She's a dreamer, and longs for the day when her husband and kids can load up in the car and drive until their hearts' content. Adventure and discovering new places play a huge role in Alaska's life. It drives her, and feeds the creativity of coming up with new locations for her stories.
Within the last two years, Alaska and her family have drove across the country twice, and also drove the distance from Texas to California three times. Asked, if she could choose one place to permanently settle down, where it would be, Alaska laughed. "Montana, today. Tomorrow, it may be Alaska, again. I go back and forth."
When Alaska's not dreaming of spontaneously hitting the road to find a new place to write about, she's being a mother and wife. If you're looking to connect with her to learn more, feel free to email her at email@example.com, or find her on Facebook. You can also stop by her website jennymayauthor.com.