Abomination Contract Loving The Enemy - Chapter 62

Asher takes his sweet time to come back I tell you. It is already nighttime when his front door opens and I hear his steps go from hard on wood to a soft pitter-patter as he gets inside the room while taking his shoes off, though what good will that do if none of his many guests today did the same? I on the other hand have not wearied shoes so far, so I’m bound to make a mess out of his home.

And yet unaffected by it he goes about his routine downstairs, robotically working through it, until he finally comes to the second floor.

I can almost see him standing on the other side of the door, his soft breathing and heartbeat giving him out no matter how subtle he tried to be.

That makes me even more annoyed that I had been ambushed by him in the first place, it must have something to do with these markings I’m sure.

Without a worry in the world Asher finally opens the door, a paper bag on his hands and a cold look in his eyes as he ignores me and goes straight towards the table on the side, glancing briefly at the images on television before turning it off..

Hey, I was watching that! Resource material!

At that he sits, taking his jacket off and throwing it over the bed, the blood smear is still present under, which shows just how these past days have been for the military, no time to even shower.

He finally gets to stretch his long legs under the table and open the bag up, the smell of fresh food drifting in the air only to remind me that I haven’t eaten for a long time now.

He opens the plastic container and steams comes out, unleashing the full potential of the food and making my stomach rumble as I clench my jaw so I won’t give him the satisfaction of being affected by it; or rather, at least not looking like I’m being affected by it.

Two can play this stubborn game.

I sit in front of him, not running away to avoid the situation but letting very clear that I’m up to the challenge, staring at him as he eats, but of course I should have known that he would not be so easily affected by my dispute.

He finishes eating without uttering a word, cleaning his lips with a paper napkin, and only then he finally looks at me, crossing his hands in front of him in a calculated composed manner as if he has all the time in the world, and have not spent the last couple of days in living hell.

“The Murray family has an interesting way to dealing with disobedience among their servants. Sometimes fear and agony are not enough, that we need to push the thin line that separates pain from pleasure… Most people are trained and prepared to feel pain, especially in the world we live in, but they are not prepared for the other way around…” At that he reaches out from the other side of the table and holds my chin forcibly with his gloved hand, forcing me to stare at him as he says: “I will teach you to obey me, only me, and I will return your loyalty with my own.”

“But disobey me… and you will be punished.”

I understand a lot of what he says surprisingly, probably because of the red circle place I had as study contained a lot of this kind of talk; plus the TV; but he gives me a very clear indicator of what he has in mind when he stands, still grabbing me by the chin and only stopping when he manages to make me drop back on the couch.

Ouch, I think after passing my own hand over my jaw. How rude of him.

And yet he ignores my glare and goes to the wall behind the couch where a closet is, opening it up only to show the row of strange objects in line.

I watch as his gloved hands pass over them, the tich material over around his finger somewhat distancing him from what he is about to do, as if he did not want to do it with his bare hands or have skin contact, fingers passing over a long yet strong black whip, some belts, a mouth ball, masks, long yet thin metal things, other many round and strangely shaped things, however something tells me I won’t like any of them.

Especially when he takes a metal piece used to lock wrists together.

And, well, I don’t need to be a genius to know that this is somehow turning sexual, even more when my short stay at the Red Circle had been enough for me to recognize some of the long shaped objects.

And yet something is off, odd even, for he does not approach me with such intention to copulate, no lust, no nothing, only emptiness and calculated actions in his behavior, carrying a face that could be used to anything, from cooking a meal for dinner to killing a man in cold blood.

And for some reason his aloof demeanor, especially while preparing to do something of this degree, makes me feel very angry and mostly annoyed that he would think he can play around with me while having that kind of frozen face.

It only worsens when this turns out to be a power play that he intended to force control over me, making sure to have a strong hold of my chin or limbs to guide me to stay the way he wanted.

Like a thing.

That annoys me further. Is this the way of the Murray family? Then how many times has he done it with others? And how has he done it? I start to understand a little of his different way of dealing with this, probably something to do with the punishment part in all of this, when he stops in front of me, making me understand that he is serious about this.

And that only makes me clench my teeth further.

You really think I’ll let you use these toys on me like I’m a thing that belongs to you to be used as you please? Oh no no no, I got better plans for us tonight… How about letting you know how wrong you are in trying to control me? To… use me? Plus I will love to turn the tables around…

And that’s just what I do.

Ah Asher… you will learn what happens when you play with fire…

I guess we are about to test out that the command ‘behave’ has a too wide meaning to be really effective, for I manage to grab him when he is about to lock me up and push him down on the couch, and yet no reaction comes out of him while I sit on his lap with him underneath me.

Letting him just the way he thought he would have me tonight; bare and bond down to my wishes.