by Kitty Thomas
“It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you.”
He opens the door and urges me out ahead of him. His hand rests on my bare lower back as he guides me down the hallway to the door that leads down to the dungeon. He strokes my back when I tense.
“It's okay,” he says again as he inputs the code.
When we get downstairs, Seven is still unconscious, lying naked on his back, spread-eagled and bound to the bed the same way I've so often been. It's hard to look at him like this and imagine this was what I looked like. So exposed and vulnerable.
I rush to him, running my hands over his body, searching for injuries, but unless it's his back, I don't see anything. But there must be something.
“What did you do to him?” I demand.
He advances on me and pulls me off Seven before pushing me up against the wall, his hand at my throat, his gray gaze holding mine. “Do not speak to me in that disrespectful tone.”
I'm crying and struggling even though he isn't squeezing hard.
“I'm sorry... M-master. Please. Please.”
He releases me and takes a step back, straightening his clothes as if he’s civilized and above these petty threats. “Now, to answer your question, I've done nothing to him. The drugs were for transport, and it takes a while for them to wear off. I haven't touched him.”
I hear a groan and turn toward the bed where Seven is waking up. “Let me go, motherfucker!” he growls.
“Ah, ah... There's a lady present,” our captor says.
Seven turns sharply toward me. “Ka—” He stops himself in time. “Kitten,” he says instead.
“Okay,” our captor says, a delighted gleam in his eyes. “I just thought up a fun game. Last time it was lady's choice. Let's switch it up. Seven... you get to choose. Do I punish Kate or does she give me a blow job?”
I freeze at this and look at Seven. His expression mirrors my own.
“If it helps, whichever one you pick, you get to watch. And Kate, you can't tell him which you prefer. It takes all the fun out.”
The truth is, he's twisted me so much in just a few days alone with him that I would be okay with either, but only if the punishment was like other punishments—not so much I can't stand it. But I'm afraid if Seven chooses for me to be punished, our captor will go harder on me to punish him. I'm afraid he'll make me bleed.
I know Seven; even though he's seen how I respond to our captor, he won't want to choose to put me in a sexual situation I might not want. It's a wasted worry on his part. I'm already too far gone, but I don't know how to communicate this with just my eyes. And the truth is, I'm ashamed to, because there’s something about the idea that I would rather suck our captor's cock while Seven watches than take a punishment that seems too twisted to accept.
“Punish me,” Seven says.
“No. That's not the choice. You always try to cheat the rules.”
“I'm not choosing either thing,” Seven spits out, glaring at our captor.
A sigh. “This is so tiring. Have I not already established how everything works? I say do something, you refuse, I withhold food, you do it, you get fed. Why not skip the suffering part? It's not as though I get some pleasure out of not feeding bad pets.”
“I can't choose to hurt her!” Seven roars.
“Then choose the blow job.”
“That's hurting her!”
Our captor laughs. “Oh, sweet, innocent Seven. Where did you come from? She's practically salivating at the idea of being on her knees with my cock in her mouth while you watch and get hard.”
Seven looks at me, and I look away, but I know my face is red, revealing the truth of that sick statement.
“I'm not choosing to hurt her,” Seven says more quietly.
“I've had blow jobs all week, and she was perfectly eager. She's less eager about pain. It's an easy choice.”
“No,” Seven says.
“Fine. I'll leave you two down here a couple of days, and you can decide when I come back.”
I touch Seven's arm. “Master, please. Whatever you choose is okay.”
It's not really. I don't want to be punished. I know what our captor wants, and if Seven gives him any other answer, he'll take it out on me even harder. But I also know by now that if I tell him what to choose, I'll be punished for that, too. It may have taken a while, but I'm getting smarter about how to play his games. I may not be able to win, but at least I can avoid losing.
“Okay, I'm bored.” Our captor turns to go back up the stairs.
“No, please!” I say.
“Blow job,” Seven says quietly.
I let out a sigh of relief.
“Excellent!” our captor says. He moves to sit in a chair a few feet away from the bed right in Seven's line of sight. He unzips his pants and crooks a finger, smug satisfaction painted across his face. And god help me, but his power has started to corrode something inside me and turn me on. His smug arrogance is no barrier to the wetness gathering between my thighs.
“Crawl to me, Pretty Toy.”
I drop to my hands and knees and crawl across the floor, the thrumming excitement between my legs only growing in anticipation. Part of me wants to hide how aroused I am from Seven, but then I realize it will hurt him less if he knows that I'm not being hurt by this.
So I don't hold back.
When I reach him, I spend a few moments dragging my tongue over his cock as though I have all day and he is my favorite type of candy, which I want to make last forever. He chuckles at this but indulges my languid exploration. I know all the places he's most sensitive, and I lick and kiss and gently suck until I feel the power between us shift the slightest amount, if for only a moment as he groans with the need for more.
His fingers thread into my hair, guiding but not forcing. It's the most surprising and wonderful thing I've learned about him the last few days. Although he’s large, he never tries to choke or gag me with his cock. He doesn't fuck my mouth like some animal. Oral sex is the only time with him where I feel like I have the power. I know I only have it because he allows it, but still, it makes everything between us feel different. It has made it harder and harder to see myself as his captive, even though I'm kept chained beside his bed or in the cell with Seven.
Sometimes I swear he'll say Please if I tease him for too long. But he never does even though I can feel the word screaming out in his mind.
The teasing now leaves no doubt for Seven that I'm not actually suffering through this. I want to be here. No matter what it says about me, I like being on my knees in front of him like this, wrapping my mouth around his cock. I devote myself completely to the task now, taking him further down my throat. I relax and let him inside as far as I can take.
I can't take it all, but he doesn't force it all. I know exactly where the pleasure gathers in him, where to focus my attentions. After a few minutes of greater dedication, he comes.
My throat works to swallow as he tries to regain the capacity for speech. When he finally succeeds, the words he speaks goes straight to my core.
“That's right, my sweet whore, take it all. Such a good girl.”
He strokes my throat as I swallow. When I'm finished and pull away from him, he absently strokes my hair, guiding me to rest my head against his thigh. I hate how much I love this affection from him.
I hate how I feel like a puppy, proud of performing a trick properly. And I hate how badly I want him to fuck me right now.
Or maybe this is all a lie. Maybe I don't hate any of these things no matter how much I know I should.
“Look at him. Look how hard he is.”
I raise my head up and turn to find Seven fully erect.
“Get on the bed with him.”
He doesn't need to ask twice. I crawl onto the bed and lie down next to Seven. I rest my head against the center of his chest, my hand drifting down over his stomach until I find his cock. It jumps against my touch as I stroke it.
“We're going to take her together. At the same time. I'd
let you take her ass, but I can't trust you to unchain you. I gave this a lot of thought actually, but I know how it would play out. You'd try to fight me, even though you'd be locked down here without the code. Then, if you bested me, you'd tie me up and then do whatever was necessary—assuming you aren't all talk and could stomach it—until I cracked and gave you the code. So we have to do it this way.”
This villain monologue doesn't do anything to dampen Seven's desire. He's seen too much to push it away now. I don't even think he'll object to the idea of them both fucking me together. Even though I'm sure he's afraid it will hurt me. How could he know our captor has been preparing my body patiently for days so I can take this?
I run my fingertips gently along Seven's stomach. His body is strung so tight with tension. I press a kiss against his chest and up to his neck. The tension slowly starts to drain out, but he's fighting to hold onto it.
He can't let himself enjoy this because he hasn't been broken the way I have—with pleasure.
“Now, Pretty Toy... I want you to get on your hands and knees so that you're straddling his body, and keep eye contact. But I don't want you to fuck yet. You can have him inside you when I say you can have him inside you.”
I can't stop the whimper as I move to obey his command. The last time in the cell, as I was grabbing the syringe, there was the smallest twisted regret that I wouldn't get to have them both. It had simmered beneath the surface, a thought I couldn't allow to take full form, but it was there. Now that I've seen the futility of escape, I'm grateful for a second chance to do this.
I now live in our captor's darkness. I breathe it like oxygen. As the rest of reality has faded away, the only thing that remains is pleasure and desire. The question on my mind is no longer how can I escape him? It's how can I climb the mountain to reach the peak of my orgasm faster? How can I come harder? Though our captor never leaves me to solve these complex problems on my own. He’s a fixer.
A moment later, he's behind me, pushing a lubed toy slowly in and out of my ass. It's a little smaller than he is, but not by much. I hold Seven's gaze and moan as I adjust to the toy and begin to crave more. But Seven isn't yet in this. He still feels the guilt. He can't give himself over. So I lean forward and kiss him.
His mouth opens to accept my tongue, and a moment later, I feel him truly join me. If he was free to do so, he'd wrap his arms around me and pull me so far into him no one would be able to detect where one of us ends and the other begins.
I yelp and pull away as a hard slap connects with my ass.
“Eye contact, Kate.”
“I'm sorry, Master.”
I hold Seven's gaze in mine while our captor prepares me. He takes his time as he recovers from his last release. Finally, he says, “Mount him like a bitch in heat and ride.”
I moan just at that order. I wish this man hadn't taken me captive and that I could give myself over completely to him. No matter how much I know that morality no longer matters for us, I can't change my emotional nature and make it okay to give this man my soul. And I know it's not safe.
So I shift this energy to Seven as I lower myself on top of him. A tiny cry leaves my throat as I let him fully inside. My greedy pussy grabs hold of him as though his cock is the last thing that will ever fill me. And then I begin to move.
It isn't long before our captor has removed the toy. Now it's his slickly lubed cock easing inside me with so much more gentleness than a man like him should be capable of or even care to offer. I'm filled with and overwhelmed by both men now. One darkness, the other light. Both of them go still, as I adjust.
I move first.
I ride Seven as our captor rides me. He strokes my breasts, pinching my nipple so hard I scream, but it isn't from the pain. It's from the pleasure that just intensified between my legs. I’m so wet I can hear myself as I move on Seven's cock. His intense hazel gaze is locked on mine.
Our captor doesn't even have to touch my clit. I've been trained so well to respond that all I need is something inside me now, and the way they both feel moving together is so intense that my orgasm catches me off guard. And now, for the first time, I come with Seven inside me. And I am loud. And I don't care. All I care about is that I'm in the midst of the most powerfully transcendent sexual release of my life.
The two of them come with their own more masculine, guttural sounds a moment later. And now... we are all in this together.
Chapter Eight
It feels like I've existed in this cell forever. I should have been counting the days more closely, but they all bleed together. And why does it matter how long this has gone on?
I wake to find Seven asleep on the floor. I shake him to try to wake him and realize it's not normal sleep. Did our captor slip in and dose him again? He never drugs me. He doesn't need to. I'm so small and weak, I can't put up a real struggle, but Seven is his match. He may even be a bit stronger than our captor, so more precautions must be taken.
Though our captor plays with us and watches us fuck each other, he still hasn't fully broken Seven. I know his eventual plan is for Seven to fully embrace this role as my master, so that our captor can let him off the leash. He's tempted him. He's promised him he doesn't have to stay in the cell. There are much nicer rooms upstairs. They can be on the same side. I can be their captive together. But Seven refuses to take any of the bait on offer.
Our captor will never be able to trust Seven unchained. He's not a dog that can be trained. I somehow have grown to think of him as my protector, even though he can't truly protect me from anything. Not like this. The door opens, and I scoot back to the far corner of the cell. As much as he has taken me and shaped me to his will, as much as my body wants him, there’s the lingering uncertainty, the fear that the mask of calm will drop and this will all end.
He chains Seven up, then smacks him a few times in the face.
“Wake up!”
Seven slowly comes to. His eyes immediately find mine as if reassuring himself I'm still here and okay. It does something to me when he looks at me like this.
“Good. I need you both awake for this announcement,” our captor says.
I want to join Seven. I want to be wrapped in his arms right now, but our captor is standing beside him, and I don't dare make that trip across the cell because something has changed, and I'm terrified that I think I know what it is.
I've craved both of these men, but it only feels right or sane with Seven, so I pour all my emotional energy into him and try to forget the excitement I feel when the other man touches me. Obviously, it's Stockholm Syndrome, but even so, it’s convincingly real. It's reminds me of a lucid dream I once had where I spent several minutes just touching this textured wallpaper, knowing I was dreaming but unable to comprehend how real it all felt. As I'd stroked the velvety smooth wall, I kept thinking to myself how can this not be real?
This dream is even more real.
“I've grown tired of this game,” our captor says.
The tears come immediately. It's like I've locked them away and saved them just for this moment. He's going to kill us. I knew this day was coming, but I'd hoped it would be farther in the future. I crawl over to him, forgetting my former resistance. “Please, Master... don't...” But I can't bring myself to say the words. If he's grown tired of this game, there’s nothing I can do to change his mind. I've always known I existed at his pleasure, on his terms.
I flinch when he strokes my hair. He sighs. “I'm going to let you go,” he says finally.
“W-what?” I can't have heard him right. He can't just let us go. How would that even work? Isn't he afraid we'll report him? Before I can work through all the ramifications and how he could possibly let us go without endangering himself, the reality that I've spent weeks ignoring because it no longer mattered, slaps me in the face.
I still have no job, no money, no apartment. Probably not even clothes. I'm sure Carolyn must have tossed my things when I didn't come back for them. I will starve to death out there. I'm pret
ty sure I can't get Andrew to take me back, not after he thinks I stood him up that night and just never spoke to him again.
He probably thinks I was fucking around with him somehow. And after what has happened here in this cell, I don't think I could ever...
“Master, please... I'll starve. I have nothing, I can't...” I can't believe I'm saying this. But this is truly the situation I'm in, where being this man's captive is a better fate than being set free because of my financial situation. In the back of my mind these weeks, I've feared he would eventually kill me, but it never ever occurred to me that I should worry about going back to the problems I was in before captivity.
He's still stroking my hair, his fingertips moving down to rub the back of my neck. I'm ashamed of how much I love it when he does this. It still feels so wrong to love anything that comes from his hand, especially since I have guilt-free pleasure with Seven. Both men are equally beautiful, but one is a monster, and I can't let myself feel anything for him, so I push these things down as much as I can.
“Don't worry, Kate, I won't let you starve. I'm prepared to offer you two million dollars.”
My breath stops for a second, and maybe my heart as well. I can't have heard him right. Is he paying me for my silence? Or is this just another sick game? What's the catch?
“Unfortunately, this offer is only for you. If you accept, I'll have to kill your companion. But you'll be free and safe. I think it's a pretty good offer. You should carefully consider your answer.”
I'm stunned for a moment. Why would he let me go but not Seven?
“No!” I say as soon as I can get my vocal cords to work again. My refusal comes out shrill and panicked.
He shrugs. “I could just kill you both. I'm offended that you would spit on my generosity in this way.”
I'm crying now, great heaving sobs that I can't get control of. “Please, please...” I whimper.
Then I hear Seven's quiet, strong voice rising above my crying and begging. “Take the deal, Kitten,” he says.