Page 56 of Ghost Hunted

“I’m going to tie your ankle to this post, baby. You can say red. Remember what red means?”

“Yes, Logan,” she murmurs.

I wish she had a little more fight in her, like in the old days. But at least she remembers my name… for now.

I cuff her ankle to one of the bed posts, then look at her other leg. I want to tie it up too, but I’m all out of handcuffs. So I remove my belt, but pause when she gasps loudly.

“Logan, I’m sorry… please don’t… don’t…”

“Shh, baby.” I run my fingers up and down her spine. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Why does this belt scare you?”

She shivers. “Don’t… don’t… Please don’t hit me…”

“Shh.” I toss the belt to the side and lie down beside her, trying to ignore my hard-on. “Hey, I’m not going to hit you. Not if you don’t want me to. Okay, Lia? Everything’s okay.”

“Okay.” She gulps. “You can hit me. Just please, not with the belt, Logan.”

“I promise,” I tell her. A twinge of anxiety in my stomach makes me hold her closer. “What happened, baby? Did someone beat you with a belt?”

She blinks fast, turning cloudy eyes at me. “I don’t know, Logan. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to stop. Please keep going.”

I hesitate. “Okay.” Then I draw up on my knees, going back to running my fingers up and down her back and over her ass. I know I should insist, but I need her so bad. I’m going to get to the bottom of it… later.

“I only wanted to tie you with the belt,” I breathe. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, Logan.” She shivers, squirming again, and I can’t help but smack her ass hard, leaving my imprint on the opposite cheek.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby. I’m going to tie that squirming leg of yours to your chest. You’re going to be helpless, just how you like it, and I’m going to use your helpless body.”

She shivers again. “Yes, please, Logan.”

I slip the belt around her torso, securing it to the back of her knee so her leg is pressed against her side.

“Comfortable, Lia?”

“Not… exactly.”

I chuckle. “Good.”

I take a few steps back, admiring my handiwork. In this position, I can see absolutely everything. And what’s even better is she knows it. Her blush travels to her shoulders and back, and it makes the light pink on her ass look pale in comparison.

“The first thing I’m going to do is paint you red all over,” I say, and her surprised squeak turns into a yelp of pain when my hand falls fast over her ass, upper thighs, and even the inside of her cheeks, which her position keeps spread for me.

When she’s fully reddened, I bring my hand down to her folds, giving them the same treatment. I can’t decide what’s better. My hand, spanking out all my frustration, my anxiety, my pain into her skin, or her body, held open for me, helplessly taking everything I choose to give it.

All of it feels amazing. Fucking amazing. She’s all mine. I own her.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all, to keep her trussed up permanently like a Thanksgiving Turkey—just like Damien said. I wouldn’t mind it at all.

Just as long as she remembers who I am.

The idea that after finding my ghost girl again, her mind could melt away… it’s too hard to bear.

To avoid sinking into those painful thoughts, I take my cock out and, fisting it, I drag it through her arousal before positioning it at her back entrance.

“Oh god, what are you…”

“What’s my name, Lia?” I ask her urgently.