Taste of Pain

Taste of PainCourt of Chains #1Rawnie Sabor Copyright © 2023 Rawnie SaborAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.Editing: Sif SvaneCover Design: Anne Gregersen and Dokudokunomi For the sinners. The wicked and divine. Content WarningThis book contains graphic descriptions of violence and sexual activities. It is not intended for anyone under the age of legal adulthood, nor should it be considered a resource for sexual education or as an informational guide to BDSM or similar activities. Reader discretion is advised.Kinks/Fetishes featured within this book include: Consensual non-consent (CNC), orgasm control, blood play, pain play, fear play, public play, bondage, restraints, spanking/impact play, praising and punishment, ownership. Contents Title PageCopyrightDedicationContent WarningChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27 Chapter 1As dark approached, self-preservation became a luxury quickly forgotten. Lily trudged along the side of the road, one arm extended in a hitchhiker’s thumb, the other clutching her few remaining belongings. A wallet with minimal cash, a phone with no power, and an iron ring about two inches in diameter, with silver chains forming an X across it. She held it all in a flimsy plastic bag she’d found a mile earlier. As yet another car sped past her, she repeated the words that had become her mantra.“My name is Lily Darrows. I come for the Claiming and I am pledging for the Silver Ribbon. My name is Lily Darrows. I come for the Claiming….” She repeated it over and over so she was sure she would say the words right when the time came.For the tenth time in as many minutes, Lily touched the ring in her bag, making sure it was still there. Daniel had given it to her when they’d fled Phoenix. He’d pushed it into her hand and closed her fingers tight around it. “If they find us again, take this, and go to Chicago. Find a place called the Court of Chains and tell them the following.”She swallowed spit and spoke again. “My name is Lily Darrows. I come for the Claiming and I am pledging for the Silver Ribbon.”The car had died an hour out of St. Louis. She’d stolen it, but it seemed to have been abandoned first, so she didn’t feel bad about it. Besides, she was too exhausted to feel guilt of any sort. She hadn’t slept in over a day. Hadn’t eaten in just as long and barely had anything to drink.She was fine with the exhaustion. It was easier to feel than the grief that would undoubtedly come the moment she was safe.The thought brought an unpleasant question with it. Would she ever be safe?Those creatures, those monsters, had followed them from Phoenix to the little Texas shack she and her brother had set up in. The creatures had taken months to find her and Daniel, but they had eventually. And their vengeance had been hungry and vicious.A truck blared past, and the gust of wind it produced nearly knocked Lily over. She wasn’t having any luck with her hitchhiking, but she couldn’t exactly blame people for not picking her up. Her once-white long tee was missing a sleeve, and her jeans were covered in dirt. Her long, dark brown hair was crusty from sweat, and her face was itchy with grime. It would take someone who was either incredibly compassionate or incredibly stupid to pick her up. She found one of the second kind about half an hour later when a truck pulled over and offered her a ride.The driver was a middle-aged man with a drunkard’s nose and a cheery smile. He said his name was Carl, and he talked a lot about his wife and two daughters, which only made it feel skeevier when he tried to feel Lily up after they got to a truck stop just outside Chicago. She left him there, having slept the entire drive, and he called her a bitch when she left him to go into the truck stop bathroom to clean off by the sink. She left with her clothing and hair wet as she started towards the city. She was lucky it was June. She could have frozen to death otherwise.“My name is Lily Darrows. I come for the Claiming...” The words had become prayer as her blistered, bloody feet carried her into downtown Chicago. She had to ask for directions six times before someone gave her an answer and didn’t just hurry away from her, either ignoring her question entirely or responding with, “Sorry, I don’t have any change.” When she finally made it to the place, she thought she’d gotten the wrong address.She was looking at a high-rise. The higher floors were residential, but the entire first floor looked to be dedicated to a very eccentric-looking nightclub. The walls were painted black with streaks of red to resemble blood, and bright neon lights drew attention to the building.It was a weeknight, and there was no line outside, but sounds of cheering people soared out of the entrance. Bolted to the wall, a metal sign with the words ‘The Court of Chains’ was illuminated in red.Lily looked down at herself. She didn’t look ready for a night out. She looked, and felt, like she was about to keel over. But where would she go other than here? She had almost no money to her name, no car, and no plan beyond this. She was hesitating at the threshold