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Sadistic Games
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Sadistic Games
Book 3&4
Lucian Bane
© 2018 by Lucian Bane
All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Lucian Bane or his legal representative.
To all the readers, fans, and or reader’s clubs. Thank you for supporting my work. I’d also like to ask nicely that you please not Pirate my work. That basically means don’t give it away just because you bought it.
Also, if you need a different format, please contact me, the author.
Dedication
To My Wife. With All My Love.
C H A P T E R O N E
Change of Plans
Miriam paced in her closet, chewing her thumbnail. Why swimming? Of all things? She couldn’t be that close to him in those conditions. She’d seen his reaction to her recreated moaning session.
Her face burned with shame and arousal. She was a mess, a hormonal mess, a biological time-bomb. One wrong touch, who knows what she’d do? Something to totally ruin her name, her thesis, and her chance to help him. Six years down the drain.
She had to get out of it. She couldn’t do it. She could tell him she’d thought she had something to wear but turns out she was wrong.
She got her phone and texted him. “Sorry, I told you I had something to wear and apparently, I don’t.”
She hit send, still pacing and chewing her thumbnail, watching the screen for his response.
“I have clothes you’ll fit in. I’ll bring them, and you can change in the poolroom.”
Shit, shit! “Okay. Thank you,” she typed back.
She could fake a stomachache, not go to lunch. She wasn’t even hungry. She remembered her camera chip and quickly got out her computer, wanting to at least see some of her data. Maybe she’d find something that would give her an idea as to how to get out of any close contact with him. Something that would require distance and serve her study.
She still wasn’t sure he wasn’t completely disgusted with her, what with all her sexual proclivities while being a Christian. What a terrible testimony, and the scathing judgement in his tone hit home more than she cared to admit. She couldn’t help feeling like she’d been in an interrogation room with her father. Which brought her to the swimming issue. She never thought about it and managed to get around swimming easily enough.
She froze at a thought. She was being forced to confront a lot of hard things lately. Had God led her to him to force her to deal with her crap?
Wow, what a notion.
Either way, God got brought her here. And if He wanted her to… deal with her stuff then she was willing. She was sure it was a two-for-one with God. They’d no doubt help each other. All she had to do is not fall into harlotry.
She needed to clear her name and God’s name and show Mordecai how a true Christian woman behaved. She needed to consider that if God would have His way with Mordecai that would make him her spiritual brother.
Great. And she had a molesting brother as a reference for that.
Ugh. He was nothing like her brother.
And what about Mordecai? No orgasm? Ever? She’d heard of that in studies but never met anybody with that issue. And a male, at that. But he had been affected by her moans. What if she was wrong about how he was affected? What if… he was so repulsed he wanted to kill her and was fighting the urge?
A second terrifying thought hit her. She was about to be alone in a pool with a man she hardly knew who had been diagnosed three different times as a psychopath.
This was insane. She needed another lifeline!
She remembered her existing lifeline and emailed her friend, letting her know what she was doing. She made sure to be vague but gave enough that if there was foul play, they’d have him as a suspect.
****
Mordecai dressed for the occasion in a traditional swim suit which was basically a black, silky scrap of underwear, setting the playing field. And she was already trying to get out of it. Too bad. She’d have to face him, face the truth about herself, about her thesis built on lies. If she couldn’t or didn’t live by her convictions, it meant her convictions were being debunked by a basic, natural law of sexuality and attraction. He knew he wasn’t natural by comparison to most males, he knew he was different, but she on the other hand professed that her beliefs held the core secret to be every sadist’s cure. Just how the hell was she supposed to convince him or anybody else that she had the answers when it didn’t even work for her?
And if it did work, then he’d know it because she would show him. And his wager was that she’d show him just how much it didn’t work. Attraction worked. Sex worked. Those were the things that drove men and women, just like it drove her. She was no different. She was a hypocrite and his cock throbbed with the desire to prove that.
At the appointed time, Mordecai texted her from one of the pool’s lounge chairs. You’re late.
He waited for the reply text and finally got it.
Look. I’m sorry, but I can’t do the swimming thing. You’re a man, I’m a woman and it’s not appropriate. I have rules I must live by. I don’t profess to be perfect, but I must be allowed to follow my convictions.
His pulse raced as he texted her. I thought you forsook the whole sex/marriage thing for helping people instead? Does your religion not equip you to do that? In fact, I thought your religion was the core power behind your thesis to help heal sadists? If you can’t even use it to control yourself, how am I supposed to believe you can cure a sadist? You should know that this was a test, and you failed it. See you for question-and-answer tomorrow for follow-up. Mordecai hit send, his muscles quaking and in need of use. He set his phone down on the table and dove in the pool, intent on getting his workout in while wagering she’d be showing up within ten minutes.
****
Miriam stared at his text, shaking her head at the angle he’d taken. He didn’t get it. And he really needed to understand how that part of her religion worked. “My convictions don’t give me exemptions from the rules, Mordecai, it gives me more reasons to follow those rules.” The power of sexual attraction was designed by God and was designed to be experienced with the man you intended to marry. “And as much as I wish to God you were marriage material, you are not!”
Miriam paced next to her bed now. “Rules are set in place to prevent us from coming into the line of temptation before we’re ready to marry. And the reason those rules are put in place is that the power of these attractions are so powerful, we do not trifle with them. And you, drop-dead-sexy Mordecai, are case in point.”
She sat on the bed in a huff. If both of them were in different circumstances and if he weren’t her subject for a thesis, she might actually consider putting herself in the line of that fire and let it devour her. Already she was burning up just from being near it.
She stood again, needing to get away from the flames in her head. Too much was at stake, she couldn’t, wouldn’t allow herself to screw that up.
Miriam stopped her steps and texted him back. Can you please meet me in the library, so I can talk to you?
She waited in her room for a reply beginning to think he’d ignore her when the phone pinged.
Sure. Be there in five.
She let out a relieved breath and checked her appearance before heading out. In the library, she had to resist the urge to run and sit at the window seat like an excited, nervous adolescent. She used calm steps and made her way maturely, smoothing her skirt as she sat with the grace and poise befitting a professional.
While she waited, she gathered her thoughts with a lecture. You need to start playing hardball with yourself, Miriam. Dress mode
stly, behave modestly, show strength of purity and integrity. Be an example.
The door opened, and her heart dropped to her stomach and beyond as a nearly naked Mordecai strolled in right in front of her in a tiny pair of underwear!
She realized she was staring and quickly shielded her eyes as he came toward her. He was doing this on purpose, and already she was fumbling the ball.
He sat next to her, and she turned her whole body away from him. “I’m not asking you to share my beliefs, just respect them,” she began, feeling like she’d started in the middle of her planned speech rather than the beginning.
“I do respect them. Feel free to not look. I hope you respect mine, and I believe I should be allowed to walk around in standard swimming attire.”
She nodded. “You’re absolutely right. If you don’t mind me not looking then—”
“Not at all.”
“I just wanted to explain my position to you.”
“I’m listening.”
She took a breath and held it, suddenly wanting to double check the accuracy of her philosophical position and the manner in which she should deliver it. She decided to scrap her scattered thoughts and go with raw transparency. “I… I made some miscalculations in our situation. For one, I never imagined I’d have a subject that I lived with to study. Alone. I imagined me going to a building with a person, always fully dressed and… me not… well, as you know you asked if I found you attractive and in full transparency, I told you the truth. I didn’t realize—and I should have—how that would change our dynamic. And I’m not happy about my personal convictions and their being in conflict with our situation. I don’t think it’s fair to you. But given the change in… in our relationship, I feel obligated to enforce the rules of my beliefs more than ever. Not just to protect me, but you.”
“Why?” he asked, sounding unimpressed.
“Because I know the power of sexual attraction. And my religion forbids me to engage in things that would… feed it and cause things to be… desired.”
“Like jacking off a dick,” he said.
Her stomach fluttered with his bold use of the term. “Yes, like that. As I said, I made that mistake once, and I have learned my lesson.”
“Does this mean you won’t be masturbating anymore as well?”
She closed her eyes, re-gathering her suddenly scattered self-control. “It means I care about this thesis and I care about helping you.”
“And what if I liked walking around naked, what if that was my kink? You wouldn’t be able to help me?”
She considered that honestly. “Our situation is unique, we’re alone for one.”
“So, if we had somebody else in the house, it would be okay? Another male, female?”
She knew he was testing her and yet also knew he was serious. “It would not make it any better,” she admitted. “We’re supposed to be helping each other,” she pled lightly. “The way I am willing to help you by not cooking and not being messy. I like being messy, what if I was to start being a slob?”
“I’d kick you out.”
“But my point is, I’m not being a slob, and I’m not because I care about you and your wishes.”
“You said I needed an orgasm, what did you mean by that?” he asked. “Are you proposing I just have sex with myself or am I supposed to go find a stranger and marry them, so I can get my orgasm?”
“I was… I wasn’t thinking of what needed to take place before that could happen, I meant it in general.”
“And why do you think I need to have an orgasm?”
She needed to speak to his eyes at least and turned, shielding all but his head with her hand. “I don’t know if that’s what you need, it seemed you were… aroused but I have no idea whether—”
“I was aroused out of my fucking mind,” he assured with a softness tinged with fire. “You did that with your vocal orgasm.”
Her mouth dropped. “Y-you asked me to!”
“Oh. Good to know that’s how that works. Next time I’ll be sure and ask you to give me my first orgasm like a good subject.”
“Stop being…”
“Right?”
“Radical!” she sputtered, heat flooding her. “A vocal recreation of an orgasm is very different from—”
“Not to my cock, it wasn’t. Your every moan felt like you were sucking me. Thank you for that by the way, it was a great performance. All I can wonder now is if that’s what you really sound like in orgasm. And thank you for those visuals of you masturbating in your bed with your knees back. You never did say if you use your fingers like a cock.”
Shock and incredulity caused her to drop her hand, a very big mistake. Her eyes raked over his hard muscles and landed right on his erection pushing out the top of his bathing suit! “Oh God!” she gasped, spinning away and standing.
“Maybe you’d let me jack off next to you and see if my body responds, because it seems to only have this need around you.” He gave a light scoff. “I might be a tad too fucked up for your little sadist experiment cure.”
“Let me think!” she cried, her back to him. “Dammit, Mordecai, this is… hard for me, and new, I haven’t done this shit before!”
“You curse?”
“It’s not a damn sin! Can you please help me find a way to make this work? Something besides me engaging in sexual activity with my subject? Just how the hell is that supposed to look on my report!?”
“About as good as you inspiring me to want to have an orgasm for the first time, with my actual dick, and then taking it from me.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered, his potent words forcing her to put two more feet of distance between them. Regret and shame made her words tremble as she tried to fix it. “I realize this is unfair to you, I do. I’m thinking we can put our heads together and come up with a solution, it’s not like I meant for it to come to this. Please,” she begged, feeling like everything she’d worked so hard for now teetered on the edge.
“Oh, I know what we can do,” he said too casually. “You can realize we’re not in the normal world and your subject may require unorthodox methods to accomplish your lofty thesis.”
She paused, almost turning toward him. “Are you… is this another test? Why are you testing me, what are you wanting to do, to prove? That I’m not perfect?”
“Don’t play games with me.” The warning in his low tone sent a streak of fear along her spine. “You claim to have given up your normal life of pursuing marriage to help people, and now you want to pretend marriage rules have a place in your medical profession.”
“They do belong,” she assured, fighting to level out her emotions. “Commitment and love between a man and a woman is a must, even for a sadist. Especially.”
“I don’t feel! Miriam!” he yelled, making her jump. “How am I supposed to commit and love if I can’t even feel!”
Pain stabbed her chest at his words. “I realize that,” she said softly, though she had forgotten it. “I think we can formulate a plan to reverse that.”
“And how long does this take? Five years? Ten? At what point is it okay to have that orgasm that prevents me from being able to think? Miriam?”
Oh God, help me. “Let me… let me think on it. Okay? I’ll figure something out, I’m sure there’s a way, something to be done that would be acceptable for me and you. We just… have to work together, that’s a huge part of this process and my thesis, working closely with the subject in order to help reverse things. This is merely the preliminary study, Mordecai. This is the part where I learn this very thing so that I know how to strategize for the real studies.”
“Don’t you think that reversing wrong with your right might be difficult to do without actually applying what is right? And do you think that requiring holy matrimony for your cure will be seen as a scientific application?”
She swallowed down her racing pulse. “Well, there’s… there’s a lot more to all of this than sex.”
He let out a dry, bitter laugh. “How in your Go
d’s name can you be in this line of work and not know that the majority of sadists use sex as a form of power and control? That is one of their greatest pleasures, and orgasms are a byproduct of that experience!”
“But you haven’t even had an orgasm or thought of having one!”
“I accomplish the same equivalent when I hunt,” he said, his voice rising like he stood. “Weren’t you taking notes? But now, for the first time, my broken cock is ready to learn, only you can’t help me past this burning torment,” he said, getting closer. “Maybe this situation is the one my doctors were talking about, the one that would bring me to my full potential. You wake my body up and then leave it to burn, burn like a mother’s children sacrificed to God,” he seethed lowly, right at her back now.
She stood frozen to the spot, his hot, angry breaths still warm on her neck. Dear God, help me. She stood, terrified. Terrified of him, of her. Of what he was saying, of how right he was. Of how badly she wanted to turn to him in that second and give him exactly what he needed, with her hands and her lips.
Oh God help me! Strengthen me!
C H A P T E R T W O
Brick Wall
Miriam snatched the phone off the bed when it pinged, finally. Mordecai had walked out the library and she’d messaged him, begging for a renegotiation of terms even though she had no idea what that renegotiation might look like.
Her heart sank into her stomach, making it sick as she read the first line of his text.
This won’t work.
Tears flooded her eyes, and she blinked them away as she read on, her chest growing tighter as she did. I’m not the sadist you need and you’re not the therapist I need. Thank you for trying. I suggest you find a thesis with sustainable methods and applications. You’re free to stay until you can find another place.
Mordecai.
She sat there for a moment then flopped back onto the bed, letting the misery and anguish take her. This was doomed from the start. “Doomed, doomed, doomed,” she strained, wiping her eyes. During all the time she planned this study, she never imagined sex would come into the scenario like this!