Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
But I couldn’t afford to dwell on them. My mission required clarity, focus, and above all, patience.
Briseis. Innocence. Observe, and act when the time comes. Did the seeds of my ultimate triumph lie within my degradation?
“Delacroix should return to the chateau by the weekend. Three days from today, is my guess,” Marcus told me as we returned to the West Wing. The cold marble floor of the corridor sent shivers up my bare legs as we retraced our steps.
“You’re fortunate,” he continued, his voice low and authoritative. “Delacroix can’t fuck you for a few days. It means you’ll have more time to get used to your place here. You did well when you answered him about your harness. I don’t want you failing to answer your betters, ever, though—even my men. You are a fucking piece, and Monsieur will likely give you to them at some point. I want you to get that through your head as soon as possible. You belong to Monsieur, but he likes to share.”
His words were coarse, brutal, yet they stabbed at something deeper within me—a conflict I couldn’t ignore. Each step was a reminder of the dreadful fullness in my bottom, the harness pinching at my tender flesh. Yet, amidst the discomfort, a flicker of hope stirred. Did Marcus feel a conflict between his mission and caring for me? Could there be some part of him that wanted to protect me, not just as fuck toy for Delacroix, but as a person?
“Monsieur,” I whispered, trying to convey something—anything—that would hint at my true identity without breaking Malleus’ strict warnings. “I… I’m trying to understand this, to adapt.”
He glanced down at me, his piercing blue eyes unreadable. “Good. You’ll need to.” He offered no further solace, no indication that he understood the hidden message in my words. The emotional walls between us felt impenetrable.
We arrived at my cell, a small bedroom down the corridor from Delacroix’s vast chambers. The door creaked as Marcus opened it, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent hall.
“Get inside,” he ordered, pushing me gently but firmly into the room. As I stepped over the threshold, the clash of humiliation and arousal flooded my senses once again. Was he merely doing his job, or was there a part of Marcus that struggled with the degradation he imposed upon me?
“Rest,” he said, locking the door behind me with a finality that seemed to seal off any chance of escape or redemption. “You’ll need your strength. I’ll train you further tomorrow. I’ll bring the cart with dinner when the time comes, and I’ll let you shower and use the toilet then.”
Alone, I stood motionless for a moment, hyper-conscious of the camera surveilling my every move. The training from Malleus whispered through my mind, urging me to stay focused. I had only a few moments before anything I did could raise suspicion.
Taking a deep breath, I relied on sheer reflex. My wrist moved in the carefully practiced sequence: two flicks to the left, one to the right, three to the left. The rising beep in my ear confirmed the system concealed within my body had activated. Relief washed over me as I realized I’d successfully spoofed the camera feed. Those watching would see nothing but a generated image of me resting.
With renewed resolve, I approached the door, laying my palm flat against the lock. The magnets embedded in my hand engaged, turning the mechanism with a soft click. The bolt slid back, the only sensation a faint tug in my palm.
I took a deep breath and pulled my palm away. I put it back and felt the opposite tug as the lock re-engaged. I had no more tricks, except the one that would let me copy Delacroix’s files into the tiny memory chip in my skull, but at least I knew I would have a chance to fulfill the mission when the right time came.
I had no idea when that would be, though. Not now… but, if I did it soon, was there a chance that I could get away before my first night with Delacroix? I didn’t want to hope for that… but I couldn’t help it.
CHAPTER 10
Sophia
My heart pounded like a war drum as I slipped out of my room. The oppressive silence of the chateau’s halls seemed to amplify every hesitant step. The shadows enveloped me, my naked body moving with practiced grace despite the constant reminder of the training harness and the lingering sting from Marcus’ spanking.
Each step I took sent a jolt through the silicone plug lodged firmly within me, a cruel distraction that I fought to ignore. The relief of having Marcus take the harness off so I could shower had made it feel even more uncomfortable and humiliating to receive it again afterward. At least this time, Marcus had used a lube that felt more slippery and less likely to chafe.