Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
I gasped for air when he finally slipped his cock out of my mouth, feeling the remnants of his orgasm drip down my throat. My face was wet with saliva, and I swallowed hard, trying to maintain some sense of dignity.
My body still trembled as he pulled me up with a commanding grip, adjusting himself and tucking away the evidence of our illicit encounter. I stood on shaky legs, my hand instinctively rising to wipe my mouth, but his fingers gripped my wrist like a vice.
"That stays," he stated quietly.
I nodded frantically, too terrified to argue. He released me and brought his hand to the back of my head, pulling me close. He leaned in, his lips barely brushing against mine in a soft, possessive kiss. “Turn around,” he ordered me.
I complied slowly, every fiber of my being on edge. Inch by inch, he guided me until my middle was pressed against the cold stone altar. My heart pounded in my chest as he leaned me forward, bending me over until I lay flat against the unforgiving surface. Panic seeped into my thoughts as I questioned what was happening.
"W-what are you doing?" I stammered, unable to keep the fear out of my voice.
“Refreshing your memory," he replied with chilling calmness.
The sound of metal scraping made my blood run cold. His hand left my hair, and I heard him reach for something hidden under the rear rim of the altar.
With practiced efficiency, he pulled up two small metal hoops and locked them into place on either side of the altar.
"Don’t move," he commanded, his voice soft yet heavy with authority.
I stayed still, frozen against the cold stone as his footsteps receded, the echo of his boots bouncing off the walls. My breath hitched as I watched him move through the shadows. From the corner of my eye, I saw him pass by, his figure dark and imposing. He slipped through a door toward the back of the room, leaving me there, bound in place, alone with the eerie silence of the Chapel. When Alexander returned, I heard the quiet shuffle of additional footsteps. Two women followed behind him, both masked, dressed in the dark, modest robes of the nuns I had seen before. One of them was pushing a metal cart, and for a fleeting second, it reminded me of the cleaning trolley I used to push around at work. Except this one was different—ominously different.
On top of it sat a lantern with a larger, flickering flame, chains neatly coiled beside it, and a bowl filled with some kind of liquid. The nuns stopped abruptly, standing eerily still until Alexander's voice broke the silence.
"Bind her," he commanded.
In perfect sync, the nuns moved towards me like puppets on strings. I struggled to get up, but Alexander's hand pressed firmly on my back, forcing me back onto the altar.
"Stay," he whispered softly as the nuns approached.
My heart pounded in my chest as they threaded the cold steel chains through metal hoops and tightened them around my wrists. Each chain pulled taut until I was stretched out, completely immobilized against the altar. Fear and disbelief consumed me as I realized there was no escape from this twisted ritual. Alexander's voice dripped with command as he switched to the Isle's native tongue.
The two women bowed low in perfect unison and intoned, "Our honor, Diabolus," before retreating into the shadows with haunting silence.
My heart raced as Alexander's hand stroked my spine in a disturbingly soothing manner. Without warning, he moved towards the cart and retrieved something. Fear shuddered through me as I heard the clink of metal. My mind raced with dread as I tried to prepare myself for whatever was about to unfold. The nearby flame cast eerie shadows on the walls as Alexander approached me from behind. I could feel his presence looming, yet unseen. With each step he took, my body became more tense, and my mind filled with terror. Suddenly, his hands were on me again, but this time they weren't holding me down - they were tying something around my eyes.
A blindfold.
My vision was engulfed in darkness, amplifying every other sense. I was completely at his mercy.
I heard his footsteps retreating, the soft click of his shoes on the stone floor, leaving me momentarily alone in this vulnerable state. My heart hammered in my chest as the seconds stretched on, and I strained to hear where he had gone. With a swift return, he stood close once more, his hands gathering my hair and exposing the nape of my neck. A cold rush of air hit my skin as I heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing.
His blade sliced through the back of my dress, leaving it in tattered shreds and exposing my bare back to the room. His fingers grazed the tender mark beneath my shoulder blade, his touch almost reverent as he traced the symbol that bound me to him. The pain was still fresh, still healing, but he seemed to relish it. As the quiet sounds of the cart being pushed filled the Chapel once more, voices joined in.