The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(50)

The trainer walked over with a tray in each of his hands. He set one in front of me and then sat across from me with his own. He looked at me when I didn’t immediately start eating, even though I desperately wanted to. “Go ahead and eat. I know you must be starving.”

I was. Starving wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how I felt. I reached for the piece of bread and took as large a bite as I could, cutting my meat as I chewed.

“My name is Prince,” the trainer said. “But you will call me Sir or Master.”

I looked up and swallowed the bread before saying, “My name is Briar Rose.”

He nodded at my food, silently ordering me to continue eating. “I’m sure you have no idea what is going to happen or what to expect.”

I stabbed at my meat and brought it to my mouth before I said, “No, Sir. I do not.”

“You are to be trained to be obedient. Maleficent wants his beauties to be docile, biddable.” He took a large bite and said as he chewed, “Call it whatever you want. My job is to make sure that you will always be submissive to Maleficent. I will do to you whatever it takes to make that happen.”

“What if I am willing to be all of that right now?”

He looked at me and studied me with skepticism in his eyes. “You have no desire to flee?”

“And go where?”

“You don’t want to scream?”

“Who would hear me and care?”

“Why are you not crying?”

I swallowed the large piece of meat and softly answered, “I cried all my tears years ago. There is nothing left.”

He nodded and looked down at his food and didn’t say another word. We both ate in complete silence, as if all was ordinary in the world.



Prince

I knew what I was supposed to do now. Feeding her wasn’t part of the plan—at least not on the first night. But she was so skinny. Too skinny. She wouldn’t survive the week if she didn’t have some calories in her. I needed her body to be strong, even as I worked to make her mind weak. I was to beat her. Torture her. Make her scream for mercy. It wasn’t like we had a manual as trainers, but there were acts that were supposed to happen on the first night to help in the process of crushing the woman’s spirit. A broken woman was what Maleficent wanted, and I had become the master of making that happen. It was easy. So very easy to crush the inner spirit.

Yet…

This woman was already broken.

It was clear to me. She was an empty shell. Just as I was.

“Have you ever been beaten?” I asked as I finished my last bite.

“No.” She looked up at me as she answered, but I saw no fear in her eyes. Damnit, why?

“Have you even been spanked? Choked? Flogged?”

“No.”

“Fucked?”

She shook her head. “No.”

I stood up and gathered the dishes, expecting to hear the answers she gave. Each beauty usually had the same answer. Some hadn’t been virgins, but in this fucked up world, most had not willingly given it up.

“Is that what you plan to do to me tonight?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Yes,” I answered simply. “Though I may not beat you if you do everything I ask, when I ask it, and exactly how I ask you to do it.” I turned to look at her and noticed how she fiddled with her hands in her lap, but she did not cry. She did not plead. She wasn’t scanning the room for something she could use to try to kill me with, like all the others had done in the past.

Her lack of emotion unnerved me. It made me angry. She should be fighting for her life now. She should be! What the fuck was wrong with her?

I stormed over to where she sat and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her out of her seat and throwing her against the wall.

She gasped, but did not scream.

I pressed my mouth to hers, thrusting my tongue past her lips, waiting for her to bite, to shove, to struggle against such an intimate touch.

She only returned the kiss, cautious at first, but did not resist at all.

I grabbed her breast and broke away from the kiss so I could watch her expression. Pinching her nipple hard, I waited for a cry, a scream, something. All I saw was her pupils dilate and her mouth open slightly.

Feeling as if I were losing this battle, I lowered my hand and pressed my finger into her pussy without any warning at all. Her wetness made the invasion simple, and when she spread her legs wider and moaned in response, I lost my fucking mind.

Thrusting my finger up inside her as deeply as I could, I growled, “You should be fucking terrified!” I thrust again, and then again. Each thrust harder than the last. Her juices seeped around my finger, coating my palm.

She moaned loudly with each aggressive movement of my hand, clinging to my back as if holding onto life.

With my other hand, I grabbed her throat and began to squeeze. “I could kill you right now.”

Her eyes widened, but I still saw no fear.

Her pussy tightened around my finger, and I knew that if I continued, she would come. She was going to fucking come instead of cry!

In a moment of rage, I flipped her around to face the wall.

Still no cry. Not even a whimper.

I slapped her ass hard, waiting for a squeal of pain.

Nothing.

Taking a hold of her hair, yanking hard at the scalp, I swatted her ass fiercely again, and then again.