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Cutler slipped my dress off my body, and flipped me onto my stomach. He gasped as he saw the whip marks all over me, "Bloody hell!" I attempted to flip back over. Completely embarrassed, I murmured, "I know, it looks really ugly. You don't have to look at it though. I can just turn over and we can pretend it's not even there..." Cutler wasn't listening.

"I am going to kill Ian Mercer," Cutler hissed through clenched teeth. "I'll be right back." Just like before, he left me in bed and went off to fetch something or the other. Wondering just how bad I looked, I attempted to twist my neck around to get a peek. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't really get a look. Maybe that was a good thing.

Cutler returned a few minutes later with a bucket of ice and some sort of cream in the other hand. He crawled onto the bed next to me and leaned down to my ear, "This is going to sting, but I'm going to try to clean you up. You don't want scars down there, do you?" Of course I didn't want scars, but did it really matter anymore? I didn't think so.

"Who cares?" I shrugged, "Ian's the only one that's going to see my body. A few scars will just make me look uglier and maybe he'll leave me alone." Cutler picked up an ice cube and gave me a bad a look, "Don't. Just don't say that. I'll get you out of this someday. Once I do, you'll come back here and I'll marry you. You've already shared my bed and stolen my heart."

Cutler's words shocked me. How in the world was he going to marry me? What about class and society? In regards to ranking, Cutler was far above me. He was rich, powerful, attractive, and a god in bed. Me? I was poor, had no power, was not good looking, and hadn't had any experience in sex until Cutler had taught me how. There was no reason for him to want to marry me.

"You'd marry me?" I asked him dubiously. Cutler brought an ice cube down to my ass and started washing the blood of with it. It was cold and stung just like he had said. I bit my lip and resisted crying out. Cutler continued on a-matter-of-factly, "Yes, I'd marry you. Why wouldn't I? You know I love you. My apologies if this hurts..." He kept rubbing the ice over me.

"What about class?" I said through clenched teeth. The ice really was killing me. At least Cutler was being gentle. Rubbing my skin in circles with the ice, Cutler asked innocently, "Class, dear? What do you mean by that?" I knew that he knew exactly what I was talking about and was just avoiding the question, so I didn't bother replying.

There was a silence and then Cutler sighed and admitted, "Well...I don't know. Sometimes I wonder where the significance of class comes from. I don't care that your family is poor. My desires contain only one thing. That would be you." Cutler leaned down to kiss the back of my neck as he continued with the ice. By now, I was feeling completely numb. At least there was no pain.

A long silence formed and Cutler finally broke it by saying, "I'm sorry for how I reacted to you earlier." I had already forgotten about it to be honest until that moment. I shrugged and replied, "I'm sorry. It was my fault. It's just...I don't know. It was weird. It was like I got transported back in time. All I could see was that dark closet and Ian leaning over me."

'Yes, I know," Cutler admitted, sucking down at the tender skin on the back of my neck. "And I blamed you for it. It's not your fault. But Ian Mercer...I believe he has fulfilled his purposes. He stole the woman I love most from right underneath me and now I can't make love to you because he's abused you so much. You should've seen that look in your eyes when you thought I was Ian."

"Hm," I replied, thinking it was probably a good idea that I couldn't see just how scared and helpless I looked. Cutler abruptly lost grip on the ice cube. It slid over me and between my legs. I whimpered and squirmed, "Cutler..." Cutler quickly retrieved the ice, accidentally sliding it over my slit as he did so. I shivered again, this time from pleasure.

"Sorry," Cutler said as he retrieved the ice. I shook my head and murmured, "No, no, don't apologize. That feels good." Cutler gave me a weird look and asked, "Excuse me? You just spent the last hour telling me how it hurts back there." Cutler threw the ice back into the bucket and started drying me off, kind of patting my body versus rubbing it so he wouldn't huirt me.

"No, not that," I corrected. I grabbed a piece of ice from the bucket and put it between my thighs. Cutler rolled his eyes, but took the ice cube and glided it over my slit. I moaned from pleasure and shivered slightly. Cutler rubbed it around a bit more before resting it against my little button for a few second. My eyes opened wide and I gasped, "God, Cutler..."

Obviously afraid that I was going to go into some kind of seizure like last time, Cutler slipped the ice cube away and hesitated. He quickly leaned down and gave a long, slow lick over my slit before he pushed my legs back together and grabbed the salve to rub onto my cuts. I shut my eyes sleepily and murmured, "You could've kept going..."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Cutler said, giving me a smirk out of the corner of his eye. I frowned at him and sighed, "Well? Why didn't you keep going then?" Cutler stuck his finger in the salve and frowned as it globed around his finger. He tentatively put some on my skin and tried to smear it around as he replied, "I learn from my mistakes."

I knew he was referring to earlier and sighed. Now because of one simple and innocent mistake, Cutler wasn't going to touch me for ages. Great. I was suddenly distracted as I felt Cutler dumping more stickiness onto my ass. I was about to say something, but Cutler spoke before I could, "Jenna, how old are you exactly?"

"Me?" I asked distractedly, wondering how much of that stickiness he was going to put on me. Cutler rolled his eyes and frowned at the goop on his fingers as he replied, "No, not you. The invisible person sitting in front of you." Rolling my eyes as well, I suddenly thought of something and said sadly, "Now that you mention it, my birthday is tomorrow..."

"Is it?" Cutler asked, looking thoughtful. Not paying attention, he dumped a large glob of ooze onto me. That was too much, I rolled onto my back and smeared some of the goop away. Looking at it in disgust, I asked, "Yes, but what the hell is this stuff?" Cutler, not paying attention, shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, some sort of salve apparently."

"Well, it's disgusting, feel this," I said, flinging some over at him. It landed smack between his eyes. Giving me all his attention now, Cutler raised his eyebrows, "What was that for?" Looking nervous, I apologized, "I didn't mean to do that." I didn't want Cutler to be mad, but from the way he was smiling, he didn't mind. No, he looked much more mischievous.

Cutler grabbed another lump of the salve and tilted his head at me, "It's suppose to be good for your skin. I'm sure you want nice skin, don't you?" Cutler threw another glob on me. It landed between my breasts and slid down my belly. Knowing that he was just playing with me, I grabbed the glob and threw it back at him. It landed on the side of his neck.

Before I knew it, we were in a fight with big globs of goo flying everywhere. Cutler would grab a glob and throw it at me. If it landed on me (and it usually did), I threw it right back at him. It sounds stupid and all, but it was the most fun I had in days. We ended up running through the house with me ducking big lumps of glop.

I started to get tired and slowed to a stop. Cutler grabbed me and picked me up in his arms. He blew on my belly and then pressed several kisses to it. Our eyes met and soon our lips joined as well. I was just starting to get turned on when Cutler literally dropped me. His jaw fell open and he said, "Oh fuck..." I gave him a weird look as I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Look at the time!" Cutler said, pointing to some large clock he had on the far wall. I looked at the clock, but before I could register what time it was, Cutler was pulling my dress over my head and setting me down by the door. Looking nervous, he bit his lower lip and said, "Hurry, I lost track of time. Ian could already be back for all I know. Go!"

Knowing that now was not the time for sentimental goodbyes, I blew Cutler a kiss and ran outside. Pain immediately shot through my legs and I immediately came to a half. Doing my best to keep from crying out, I slowed my pace to a walk and ended up limping the rest of the way home. Well, home as in to Ian's house. It was my home whether I liked it or not.

I yanked the door open and quickly spilled inside, looking around for signs of Ian. Thank god that he was nowhere to be seen. Going to the bedroom, I sat in the corner and took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. I had barely sat down when the door flew open and Ian came in. His eyes were dark and angry and there was something about him that told me he was upset.

When he saw me, his eyes narrowed into snake-like slits and he came over to look at me. He got behind me and started untying my dress. I was used to being naked around him, but it was still a shock when the heavy dress slipped off me and left my body bare and exposed. Ian frowned at my stripped figure and said, "You're too small. I'm going to make you bigger."

Oh god, that certainly didn't sound good. What did he mean by "make me bigger"? I had to know. Not moving an inch, I wrapped my arms over my chest as I shivered and asked quietly, "How?" Ian glanced down at me and grabbed my wrist. He started dragging me into the kitchen. Giving me an evil smile, he said, "You'll see."

Ian pushed me down in a chair and piled up big slices of some kind of meat on my plate. He shoved the food in front of me and said, "Eat." I stared at the meat in distaste. It looked horrible! There was still blood dripping from the meat and besides, I just didn't eat meat. I hadn't eaten it since I was six or something. To force me to do so now was torture.

I shook my head and protested, "No, I don't eat meat." Ian pulled up a chair next to me and glowered, "You don't, do you? How about now?" He pulled out a little, sharp knife and waved it in my face. I gulped and tried to get up, but Ian grabbed me and shoved me back down. Giving me a meaningful look, he said, "Don't move, I'll be right back."

I didn't move when Ian disappeared. After all, he could easily slit my throat if he lost his temper and believe me, it sure looked like he was going to loose his temper tonight. Returning to the table a few minutes later, Ian held a rope in his hand. He cut off part of it and wrapped it around my waist before tying me to the chair. My mouth fell open as he yanked it against me waist.

"Can't...breathe..." I gasped as he crushed the rope against my tender skin. Seeing that I was right, Ian loosened it just a tad bit before cutting more of the rope. This time, he wrapped it around my neck. Shit. My whole body tensed. What if he did pull it too tight so that all the air was crushed out of my lungs and I ended up suffocating?

Ian pulled it tight, but not quite tight enough to suffocate me. Smiling malevolently, he murmured, "Now will you eat?" I took one look at Ian and another look at the meat. I didn't want it. It was sick and I mean really, who the hell eats bloody meat? Apparently, people like Ian do. Still though, I couldn't force myself to eat it. I shook my head.

"Wrong answer," Ian snapped at me. He grabbed my thigh and turned it slightly so he could have access to the inner part. He brought his knife down and made a long cut on the inside of my thigh. I screamed and tried to get away, but the more I jerked, the more the knife dug into my skin. Finally, Ian stopped cutting. I looked down in horror as blood gushed down my leg.

"So," Ian said calmly as if we were just having a simple cup of tea. "Now will you eat?" Ian cleaned the bloody knife off on a napkin and tilted his head at me questioningly. I didn't want to eat. And I especially didn't want to eat the bloody meat. But when it all came down to it, I didn't want matching scars on the insides of my thighs either.

I nodded and took a tiny bite of the meat. It was tough and chewy and very hard to get down. Wrinkling my nose in distaste, I closed my eyes and swallowed the meat. After that, I stabbed another chunk and tried to force that down as well. It was hard as hell, but just a glance over at Ian with the silver knife was enough to make me keep eating.

After I somehow managed to down two slices of the horrible meat, I couldn't eat anymore. My stomach felt like it was stretching, my body ached from the rope digging into my skin, and inside, I was shattering into a million pieces. With pained eyes, I looked up at Ian and said, "I can't. I can't eat anymore. Please don't make me..."