Try Begging

Grace wiped her saliva and bloody lips with the back of her hand, which was still intact with no tears. She thought he would drink her blood as much as he fed her, but he wouldn’t bite her lips.

“Good job.”

Winston patted her on the butt as if complimenting her.

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He even had a satisfied smile on his face, like an owner who had corrected a dog’s bad habits. Unfortunately, he really fixed her ‘bad habit.’ Now she wouldn’t bite him anymore when he tried to kiss her.

Maniac.

Blood and madness glared at the lips at the same time, belatedly realizing that she was on eye level with him. Grace’s knees were touching the table, not the floor. She couldn’t remember when he picked her up and sat her on his thigh.

He then lifted her lightly once more and laid her down on the table. As the cold metal touched her bare skin, she reflexively shrunk down though her legs were wide open.

Winston, holding Grace’s knees on both sides, slowly scanned between them. Was he suspecting that she would have sold her body to the orderlies?

He did not just confirm that the area between her thighs was seemingly clean, but he also spread her opening with his fingers and poked it. As the two knuckles popped up from the bending fingers squeezed and stirred the inner flesh, her insides tightened, her lips parted, and she let out a strange moan.

“Ahht…”

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Winston, who immediately glanced down at her immediately with pathetic eyes at her lewd reaction, pulled his finger out without warning.

“Uht!”

With a sound, her back bent and then sank, bumping into the table. Even after his fingers were gone, the inner wall continued to twitch as if longing for what was gone.

Craving.

Was she craving this person’s body?

Grace bit her lip in humiliation. With his hand out, she pulled her legs together and covered her chest with her arms. As if she had never stood naked in front of him moments before, she felt unbearably ashamed.

Winston narrowed his brows as he wiped his wet fingers with his handkerchief. His gaze was on the arm that was pressing down on his chest.

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“Your body is mine. Do not leave anything but the marks I made.”

He was talking about the scratches on her arms.

Soon, he began to scan her body from head to toe, looking for another wound. The moment his eyes landed on her neatly gathered knees, his forehead wrinkled once more. There were marks on her knees from slipping down the laundry chute.

Winston asked scornfully, staring at the round, red-spotted wound.

“Did you get down on your knees in front of the orderlies and use the skills I taught you?”

Leon knew better than anyone that there was no way the soldiers who feared him would do such a thing. However, this woman was different. She was fearless and eager to escape. In the end, it was just an irrational fantasy stemming from his desire to monopoly her.

He quickly regained his composure and dropped the used handkerchief on top of the ragged bra. The woman replied belatedly.

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“Oh, was there such a good way? I’ll refer to it next time.”

As expected. The woman’s first reaction to his vulgar speculation was a look of disgust, followed by a provocation to stir his anxiety. This woman’s true feelings were always revealed in her first reaction.

“Next time?”

Leon responded to the provocation with another provocation.

“I seriously wonder if you can escape naked… with this on, too.”

There was a clicking, ominous sound, and she felt a heavy weight on her ankle. Even Grace, who was accustomed to being tied up for the interrogation, was taken aback when she saw the end of the shackles on her ankles.

The other end of the chain attached to the shackles was fastened to an iron hook in the wall. It wasn’t the end of the chain that made her panic, and it was the middle. Chains were coiled in layers, like snakes coiled around the floor.

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There was only one meaning for the chains being long enough to be able to move around freely in this torture chamber.

‘From now on, he will always keep me shackled.’

Escaping became difficult… no, maybe it was impossible.

“Do it well.”

He gave a hearty encouragement to the woman who couldn’t hide her disappointment and then turned back.

“I will try to live up to your expectations.”

“By the way, this is the last time I’m going to be easy on you.”

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Winston looked back at her and smiled, and Grace responded with a smile.

She was no longer afraid of Leon Winston. What would he do if she escaped and got caught? He couldn’t kill her. He had already locked her up, and he was already trampling on her body.

Now, what could he scare her with?

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To prove that, the price of escaping was weaker than she was prepared for. Unfortunately, the bastard named Winston must have smelled relief in Grace.

As he left, he left these words.

“Of course, the punishment begins now.”

Grace overlooked one thing. That Leon Winston couldn’t give her fear, but he could give her pain.

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º º º

An officer in a black uniform stepped out between the marble columns reminiscent of an ancient temple.

An overwhelming sense of authority.

The atmosphere emanating from his tall build was no different from the magnificent front gate of the Western Headquarters.

The soldiers standing guard in front of the pillars stood at attention and saluted with their hands. The captain walked down the gray stairs leisurely, accepting the salute with a ceremonial salute without giving a glance.

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Pierce quickly got out of the passenger seat of the sedan and opened the back seat door. It was an unspoken rule that only field officers and above could park cars or carriages in front of the main gate, but a major on the stairs passed by after receiving the captain’s salute without any reprimand.

As the captain climbed into the car, Pierce got into the passenger seat, and the driver started driving the sedan. He looked back as the car pulled out of the headquarters and onto the road.

The captain took off his top hat and slowly bent his neck to the side as if to loosen his stiff muscles. A look of fatigue was visible on his face.

“You’ve been going to headquarters often these days.”

“A new commander is coming soon. Everyone is busy sweeping the old dust under the carpet.”

The Western Command was in the middle of a late spring cleaning for the new commander’s inauguration.

Literally, the unsightly act of decorating buildings and offices was just a facade, and in fact, everyone was obsessed with cleaning up the traces of ill will that had accumulated like dust under the carefree former commander.

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Of course, they would. The person who was inaugurated as a new commander in a few days was from the royal family’s collateral and was the most trusted general by the king.

Moreover, his rank was an admiral. It was unusual for a commander in a region to be helmed by an admiral rather than a lieutenant general. That meant that the King’s disappointment in the former commander was great, and it was also an expression of his determination to correct the discipline.

“Captain, the items you ordered arrived today.”

Pierce handed over a box the size of his face to Leon, who was lost in thought. The name of a famous jewelry boutique was engraved in gold leaf on a black box tied with a golden silk ribbon.

“Is this a gift for the Grand Lady?”

Pierce asked with a meaningful smile, and Leon narrowed his eyes.

Pierce, a personal entourage in charge of family affairs not related to the military, was less observant than Campbell. Of course, if he had known that Leon had a mistress, he certainly wouldn’t have said in vain. But even if he didn’t know that, Campbell certainly wouldn’t ask whom he’d give it to.

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Leon didn’t answer, and then, perhaps realizing his mistake, Pierce shut his mouth and turned his head forward.

Instead, he stared at the box in his hand again.

Imagining putting the items inside this on her made him so happy that he forgot his fatigue.

But soon, his nape got tired.

It would take at least three or four hours to return to the mansion. The evening appointment, which he hadn’t been willing to do, became even more annoying. As he thought so, Leon buried himself deep in the seat and glanced out the window at the colorful downtown street.

Behind the glum eyes, he imagined the woman again.

This time, he pictured the woman’s happy face when he presented her with a necklace or earrings that were out of the ordinary, unlike the items in the box.

The woman who had been laughing shyly after putting it on began to frown more and more, and the neat necklace and earrings swayed to and fro that they were messed up. The clear jingling sound and muddy breath sounded like an accompaniment.

Finally, the woman who was intoxicated with distant pleasures beneath him smiled more brilliantly than the jewels, and she called his name and asked.

“Do you really like me?”

Shut up, Grace.