"Yes." I find it incredibly difficult to speak. It takes all of my focus to stand. Have no strength to worry about my words. Even a simple yes is enough to make me stagger a little. Xerxes shoves Exhales annoyed and looks at me. Seems to be weighing whether I'm about to collapse. But that only makes him move his finger in my middle slightly. Not in the way I'd like. So I move my pelvis, wanting to make sure I do touching my clit. Increase the pressure. But Xerxes adapts to my movements. Contains what I most want right now. And as I moan in frustration, he cracks a mischievous grin. And that smile makes Xerxes look years younger. I can't even fathom why this is the case. The wrinkles around the eyes are clearly visible and the gray highlights stand out in the black hair. Despite this, Xerxes seems like a carefree teenager right now. Kind of harmless. And that just leaves me completely stunned. The ground is stained with my blood. He's got some on his face. on the fingers. And yet he scares me. At least somehow. For the moment. But no matter how short this time is, I can suddenly take a deep breath. So I'm just looking at Xerxes. Only he is hot for me. Everything else in my field of vision is blurry. Somehow not real. He is the only one present to me at this moment. He leans forward slightly, taking a deep breath. I hear the need on his breath. How difficult it is for him to control himself. And that sound grabs me. Slow. I hardly notice. But the fire inside me is getting bigger. And just to kindle this even further, he finally touches my sensitive pearl again. But this time it's not an easy game. The pressure is too strong for that. And so I gasp quietly. I just want to focus on that touch. This in turn causes my knees to sag again. **** "It doesn't work that way," he murmurs, looking at me thoughtfully. And just as I'm about to ask what he means, he grabs my thighs. Lifts me up. And that's enough for me to whimper again. Squeezes hard This runs down my throat, but I can't stop it. Xerxe's hand is right on top of the scratched mark. Squeeze that so tender spot and my dizziness mounts even more. I just manage to wrap my arms around his neck and to hold on to him somehow. But what I can't do is keep my eyes open. The lids are too heavy. And so I lean against his shoulder. Smell only Xerxes and in a crazy way it's beautiful. Away Is the acrid smell of torches and death It keeps me drifting. Still, I hear the loud bang as Xerxes bangs on the door. The soft squeak as it opens. But I can't check. Just snuggle closer to him and press my face against that shoulder so strong. I know it's wrong I should not indulge in the illusion of security. Shouldn't trust him. But it's simple: I'm too tired to resist these feelings. Even if it only lasts a minute, it's at peace for a minute. That's better than nothing for me. And while a slight wobble tells me that Xerxes is leaving, I enjoy the pounding of his heart. It's so nicely balanced. So calm. Makes me believe he didn't abuse me. an illusion. A beautiful illusion. Another door seems to open and I should look up. At least now I would have to face reality and prepare myself for what follows next. But my head is so incredibly heavy. I can only lift it a few millimeters before I land with my forehead on his shoulder again. "As much as I like seeing your helplessness, don't be alarmed," he whispers and carefully puts me down. And again I can only wonder at his calculation. He just pulled a knife through my skin and still is he's so thoughtful. I assumed he'd pin me down and take what he wants. But it's not like that. Everything has a plan. No spontaneity whatsoever. And despite what's been said, I look into the green eyes first instead of not looking at me. Wants to know if there is any danger from Xerxes. But nothing to indicate it. There's the mask of the rich again. And even if it represents something like security to me, I curse it. The facade ensures that that Xerxes distances himself from me. Not physically, but mentally. Exactly what I don't want. He smiles slightly and nods his head behind me. "Turn around." And now all my previous thoughts are forgotten. I swallow hard and don't even want to see what's there. A shiver runs over me and already I would like to throw myself at his feet and beg for my life. I can't take it anymore! Can't he see it? Xerxes must see that I am walking on the edge of a chasm. That he has just created it and I don't want to face it. Don't want to see the dark blackness. But I trust I don't even want to beg him anymore. It's useless. It would be a waste of energy. So I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I do as he asks. He's still holding me by the waist. And it's so paradoxical, but the warmth of him feels good. It's such a pleasant alternative to the constant cold around me. But that too is taken away from me when I get a glimpse of what Xerxes wants to show along with. There's a mirror. head high. The image is distorted and yet all I can do is stare at myself. Only notice the adjacent poles in passing. Don't notice the ropes hanging from it. The only thing that matters is the sight of me. My blond hair is soaked with blood. Thick highlights hang on the shoulder and the otherwise so light color is blood red. But not even that scares me, but my eyes. The emptiness within. The otherwise white part next to the iris is full of broken veins. I look like, like I came straight from hell. like a demon And that's exactly what makes me aware of what Xerxes means by a work of art. I look how his insides are well. I'm the statue that's supposed to show him what's inside him. Is that it? Does he want to know through me against whom he is fighting a fight? Or am I just a means to an end? But I can't follow that any further when he grabs my wrist and leads it to the pole. Immediately I want to rebel and finally I manage to tear myself away from my distorted reflection and look at Xerxes instead. He looks at me too and a slight grin creeps onto his lips. "Leave it. You don't have a chance anyway." And as wrong as it is, he's right. I whimper for a moment. But I can't say what's causing it. The pain? The feeling of not being in control of my body anymore? It could be both or none of it. It makes no difference. "Please, I can't take it anymore." My words are so soft again. Too weak. God, can't I feel something like strength one more time? At least for a damn second? But Xerxes seems to have heard me. Tilts his head slightly, but instead of answering me directly, he loops the rope around my wrist. It's embedded in a lower hook, so I have to lean far forward and stretch my butt towards him. I automatically press against his crotch and Xerxes grunts with pleasure. Stripes I run my hand over the side of my pelvis and again pain spasms as it touches my gaping sores. "You'll have to hold on for a little longer." He looks down as he talks. Seemingly enjoying the sight, he grabs my other wrist. But he doesn't come around to attach it to the other pole. Instead, he squeezes his Pelvis hard against mine. Makes me feel the erection. And most importantly, his shirt scrapes my open back because he has to lean quite far forward. And as soft as this fabric is, it's bringing tears to my eyes now. It feels feels like the seam of the shirt is made of blades. Doing more damage to me. I sob softly and automatically grab the bars. I grip them with all my might. Xerxes has to realize what that light touch is doing to me. The tremor of me, but he doesn't go away.Instead he presses even harder on my back until his lips are on the side of my head. "But even if you can't take it anymore, at least you'll stand still now," he whispers and grabs my chin. Pushes my head up so high that I have to look in the mirror. And now I realize why we're here. Xerxes is considerate. In a completely insane way. But he wants to look into my face while he uses me for his urges. And this is the only way I don't have to lie on my wounds. Only I can't tell , whether he's doing me a favor or himself. After all, I'd probably faint if my open back were damaged any further. And just to confirm my thoughts, he goes on, "Never mind." The voice has dropped a few octaves. Normally would cause panic, but not this time. I can only look at him and nod timidly. Only then does he slowly let go of my chin and stand up. "And now you shall get what you want." It's no more than a growl, and even as I try to decide if that's a good or bad thing, he roughly jabs me with two fingers. I gasp immediately, wanting to jerk my pelvis away a bit, but I'm not allowed a millimeter. Xerxes stares at me. Leaves no room for me to take some of the power out of the stimulation and so I can only stare in the mirror with wide eyes. My body seems to want to switch immediately. Assumes the prostitute's position and as Xerxes slams his finger against my g-spot, a low, tightened sound mingles with my heavy breathing. And as paradoxical as it is, Xerxes simply overwhelms me with its immediate harshness. I don't have time to get used to the intensity of his penetration. No power to sort that properly. "You know, overstimulating the body is an interesting thing, isn't it?" I would love to catch Xerxe's gaze. At least find some support in it. But he doesn't look at me, just watches his finger penetrate me. Tilts his head slightly, giving the impression that he's genuinely intrigued by what he's seeing. "You're no longer able to process all the emotions." I have to agree with him there. I can't even tell anymore if blood or the wetness of arousal is causing the friction of his fingers and my privates to lessen more and more. And not only that. There is a smack. This takes up the space and every time Xerxes flexes his finger inside me, pulling back slightly only to widen me again, the tone increases. And that changes something in me. Immediately I look again in the mirror image. look at me My eyes. And at that moment I seem to perceive myself differently. The blood is no longer considered cruel by me. I recognize the fascination of it. How gorgeous the shade of red is. There's a depth to it that I've never seen before. The warmth and brutality combined. Two opposites that couldn't be more different. And yet they fit together so perfectly. It reflects exactly what I'm going through right now. My inner. The pain also seems to change all of a sudden. These are present. But no longer a hindrance. The two hurricanes of excitement and torment no longer battle each other. No, they become one. take everything with them. let me forget And as I breathe out heavily I enter another world. And I know what it is. I go into the world of Xerxes and his inner beast. Let me fall and in that moment there is no more reality. No right or wrong. Only he and I are there. No time. no place Just the excitement, the pain, the blood and desire. No longer. *** I'm slowly coming to because some voices are making it into my subconscious. But I'm still not really awake. And yet the images of Xerxes and me overwhelm me. As we are in the dungeon. He's behind me while his hands are tightly gripped around my waist. The bumps coupled with pain and pleasure. I remember the blood. To the distorted mirror. To the green eyes. Something tells me these pictures are real. That I had sex with the man who tortured me. And yet I don't seem to notice. Not to understand. Instead, I let out a grunt and just want to give in to that beautiful fog in my head again. Nevertheless, I perceive that something soft caresses me. I feel like I'm surrounded by a thick, fluffy cloud for a moment, and that's really great. So I nestle a little more into this lovely environment and sigh softly. But besides the voices, something else makes it through the morass of fatigue. Pains. These are everywhere and so my sigh turns into a moan of agony. But even that doesn't make me lift my eyelids. If I keep my eyes closed, it will definitely be easier to go back into the dream world. I just can't think. Then everything will be fine again. But I'm not allowed to do that. Instead, the voices get louder. It's an argument. And I don't just notice what is said, but also the pitch. The fog disappears and draws me into the here and now. Drops me like a wet sack. There's a woman in this room. But that's not what interests me, it's the melodic voice. The one that enchants me so much. "Can we discuss this somewhere else?" The resignation can be heard even for me and so I open my eyelids a bit. Only a crack. But that's enough to recognize shadows that are standing in front of me. These are only dimly visible, but it brings you a step closer to reality. "Somewhere else?" Hysterical isn't even an expression of the energy with which this word is pronounced. The shrill sound literally eats its way into my head and keeps ringing. It makes me gasp and makes me want to slap my hands over my ears "But the movement seems impossible to me at this moment. The two figures in front of me seem to have heard my sound, they immediately turn to me and I want to lift my eyelids a little more. Make eye contact and say that I am them I understand, but it doesn't work. "You dare to take this person into our house and now you want to send me away?" In fact, the woman lowered her voice. Nevertheless, disgust mixed with hatred can be heard in every syllable. And that finally makes me see a little more clearly. Xerxes looks at me and scratches the back of his head helplessly. He's probably making up an excuse. Maybe not. But I realize where I am. In the castle. He must have taken me to one of his guest rooms. And that's it It's obvious who he's arguing with here. His wife. "Magda," Xerxes says, but doesn't continue. Why I don't know, but now the veil in my head is completely lost. It's not good what's happening here. I shouldn't even be here. "She should go," the woman hisses, and inwardly I agree. Yes, I should. But Xerxes just shakes his head and points his hand at me. "Have you looked at her? She has nowhere to go." I have to agree with him there too. Still, I roll onto my back. A huge mistake. Pain hits me immediately and I cringe. And if I couldn't see properly because my eyes weren't working properly, tears are to blame. My vision blurs and I gasp, but instead of attending to me, the woman turns back to Xerxes. And I don't need to get a good look at her to know something's wrong here either. Just to confirm this, Magda laughs hard and tears her hair. "I don't give a damn how she's dressed. That person has no business being here!" That's not a good sign. Xerxe's wife is clearly pissed. Did she know about me? If not, then their reaction is actually quite nice. But I should go. Very urgent. So I fight the pain and push myself up with my hands. Just a few centimeters cost me a lot of effort and I clench my teeth. "Don't be so heartless," Xerxes barks, and I automatically wince. I know that kind of him. It doesn't bode well. Still, I manage to sit up. A slight dizziness fills me, but it's not as bad as it is I thought. And so I just swallow hard once and look around in a daze. I'm lying on a bed. On a real bed. This is the first time in my life I've enjoyed anything like this. But I can I'm not happy about it. It's not meant for me. I have a bad feeling that it's about the marriage chamber. "I'm heartless?" asks Magda, making a disbelieving tone, drawing my attention off the bed. But she doesn't look at me. In fact, doesn't even notice me. Instead, she takes a step toward Xerxes. "Who did that to her, Xer? Tell me, who gave her those wounds?" It's quiet and yet I hear every word. I don't even have to look at Xerxes to know she hit the mark with that. No reply follows from him. Just be silent. Magda also seems to see this as a victory, and she snorts contemptuously. "I thought so. Ask yourself which one of us is heartless." And now she turns to join me. But there's no pity in her eyes. Only disgust. Like I'm a mangy cur yelping for food. "Make her go away and don't even think of bringing her back here." Once again she twists her mouth in contempt and then stomps out of the room. And just to make the exit even more perfect, she slams the door with full force. That heavy wood literally groans under the impact and again the audio is too loud for me.causes me to flinch a bit.and that little movement is enough to make my back practically scream.the wounds seem to reopen and it makes me whimper. Xerxes looks at me and settles down on the bed with a sigh. He looks tired. The wrinkles appear deeper and the black rims under the eyes reinforce the assumption once again. But still he loses nothing of his presence. He is the king. It's still noticeable in every fiber of his body even now. "How are you?" He smiles encouragingly at me and I'd really like to lie. Saying that everything isn't that bad. But he made it clear to me what a lie can entail. "Not so good." My voice sounds raspy. Like that of a hundred-year-old woman, so it just suits my general well-being perfectly. Xerxes nods slightly and rubs his face. "I'll talk to Magda again." It doesn't sound convincing. More like he's already anticipating the outcome of the conversation and just wants to do it as some sort of amends. A plea to have done everything. But I do not want that. So I shake my head and just to underscore the gesture, I scoot towards the edge of the bed. "Kalota," Xerxes whispers, and despite the low volume, the smile on his face is more than clear. But that doesn't stop me. Of course, I'll have trouble standing. But even bigger problems await me if I don't hurry get out of here. I know how cruel wives can be who feel betrayed. Who see their position threatened. And my experience only comes from women who are allowed to call a common man their husband. I don't want to know what for the king's wife is able. But the bed is big. Bloody big. So I can't even get my legs to dangle completely off the edge before Xerxes catches my shoulder.