“No.” Jay replied. “You know the policy on that. If they find out you were taking first dibs—”
“How would they know? This piece of ass ain’t gonna squeal on me, are ya’, bitch?” He squeezed her breasts through her blouse.
“I said no.” Jay’s voice was firm. “Get your hands off her and help me get her in the hole.”
“All right, all right,” Vince said, dropping his hands. “I was just foolin’ around anyway.”
They moved on either side of her and lifted Julianna from the ground. “No, no, no!” she cried, struggling as they lowered her into the small confines of the hole. She kicked out wildly as they held her aloft over the hole, terrified of being left in there. “Let me go! Let me go, let me go,” she screamed, twisting violently in their strong grip.
They dropped her down into the hole. As they lowered the iron grate, she was forced to crouch down in a kneeling position. The space wasn’t deep enough for her to stand, nor wide enough for her to lie down. The grate came down over her head with a clang and she could hear the sound of the padlock being clicked into place. She tried to lift herself enough to see the men through the grate, but all she could see was the sky, black and studded with tiny stars.
Reaching up, she gripped the bars and pushed with all her might, but they didn’t budge. She felt the walls of the enclosure. They were rough and cool to the touch, and appeared to be concrete. Beneath her feet was sandy dirt but it was dry and, mercifully, seemed to be insect- and vermin-free. Julianna slumped to the ground, dropping her head into her hands.
Her jeans and panties were damp and she realized with dismay that in the tumult of them thrusting her into the pit she’d wet herself. “Someone, help me,” she whimpered. Surely they wouldn’t really leave her here all night? “Hello?” she called out, timidly at first, and then with more volume, but she heard nothing, save the sound of the ocean.
Tears streaked down her cheeks and her whimpers erupted into all-out crying. She hid her face in her hands, her body wracked with sobbing. She cried until there were no tears left and still no one came for her. Rubbing her tear and snot-smeared face with the bottom of her blouse, wearily Julianna leaned back against the wall of the small enclosure and looked upward at the dark night sky.
Though she’d never considered herself a religious person, Julianna lowered her head, clasped her hands beneath her chin and began to pray.
Chapter 2
Julianna’s eyes sprang open when she heard the sound of the gate being opened and the murmur of voices. The sun was shining overhead. Somehow, despite her discomfort and misery, she’d managed to doze for a while. She was curled on her side in the dirt, the arm beneath her head completely asleep. She struggled upright, every muscle in her body protesting.
Pushing her tangled hair from her face, she peered upward, straining to hear what was going on above her. She heard the footsteps moving closer, and then the click of the padlock as it was opened. A moment later the iron-barred grate was lifted and strong arms reached down, catching Julianna beneath her arms and hauling her up and out of the hole.
“Holy shit, you look like something the cat dragged in.” Vince eyed her as she slumped to the ground. He turned to Jay, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s hose her down. You don’t want sand in your girlfriend’s bungalow.”
Jay scowled at Vince, but said nothing. Julianna felt dizzy and weak, her mouth dry as bone. “Thirsty.” The word came out in a croak.
“What’s that?” Jay crouched down beside her, leaning in close. Today the two men were dressed in white—white shorts and T-shirts with flip-flops on their feet.
“Thirsty,” she repeated.
“Get the hose, Vince,” Jay said, gesturing with his chin. Turning back to Julianna he said, “You can have some water from the hose. Then Alma will get you ready.”
Vince approached holding a long green garden hose with a nozzle on the end. He turned the nozzle and water began to pour from the hose, creating a dark pattern against the sandy dirt. She watched it, her thirst like a flame. Vince held it near her mouth. Julianna knelt up on her haunches and leaned forward, slurping at the cold, delicious water as best she could.
The worst of her thirst had abated, though she would have liked more, when Vince twisted the nozzle, shutting off the stream. He jerked the hose away. “Get up and get out of those filthy clothes,” he ordered. “You stink.”
Julianna stared from one man to the other, the entreaties rising to her lips finding no voice. Miserably, she hauled herself to her feet and reached for the top button of her blouse. Her fingers were trembling and she found it hard to get the button open.
“Hurry it up, or we’ll do it for you,” Vince barked. Julianna glanced to her left and right, wondering if there was anyone else on this island—anyone who could help her. She saw no one. “We don’t got all day.” Vince reached for her blouse with both hands and ripped it open, sending the buttons flying. Julianna gasped and tried to clutch the blouse closed. Ignoring her, Vince reached for her jeans, jerking the snap and tugging the zipper as he dragged them down her legs.
“What’d ya’ do, piss yourself?” he said, wrinkling his nose as he pulled at the denim. “Doesn’t matter—you won’t be needing these clothes again.” Jay knelt beside her, pulling off Julianna’s sneakers and socks so Vince could pull the jeans away.
Julianna was left in only her bra and panties, trying vainly to cover her body with her hands. “Better not do that in front of the bosses,” Vince said in a warning voice. He took a small penknife from his shorts pocket and flicked it open. Before Julianna could react, he hooked the tip of it beneath her bra between her breasts and sliced through the fabric. When he pointed the knife at her panties, Julianna stepped back, pulling them off herself with shaking hands.
Vince whistled, ogling her. “Natural redhead, yeah baby.”
“Keep your dick in your pants, dude,” Jay said, though he, too, was staring at her body while Julianna blushed hotly. “We’ve got a job to do. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Vince replied. He aimed the hose at Julianna and twisted the nozzle until a high-pressured spray shot from it. “Arms over your head.” In a daze of fear Julianna obeyed, closing her eyes as the cold water blasted over her body. Vince moved around her as if she was an animal or a tree stump, soaking her with the needling spray. Unable to help herself she dropped her arms, wrapping them around herself as she shivered.
“Good enough,” Jay said, glancing at his watch. “Let’s get her over to Alma.”
They marched the naked, shivering girl out of the gate and through the palm trees toward a wooden bungalow. The door opened as they approached and a young woman with dark skin and almond shaped eyes stood just inside. Her hair was pulled back in a thick ponytail and she was wearing a white sleeveless dress, sheer enough to show her dark nipples beneath it. She crooked a finger toward Julianna, gesturing for her to enter.
“We’ll wait out here,” Jay said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tapping one into his hand. As he was handing the pack to Vince, the woman closed the door.
She handed a large towel to Julianna, which she took gratefully and wrapped around her body. The woman, probably in her early twenties, looked kind and for the first time since the night before, Julianna felt a glimmer of hope. “Please,” she ventured. “Where are we? You’ve got to help me get out of here!”
The woman shook her head. “Shh,” she said very softly, her lips barely moving. “They can hear you.” She gestured with her head toward a black globe set into the ceiling. Julianna realized it was a camera and that it probably contained a microphone as well.
In a louder voice, the woman said, “My name is Alma. I will prepare you for presentation.” She spoke with an accent, a pleasing lilt in her voice. Julianna understood she wouldn’t or couldn’t answer Julianna’s question, and the hope that had risen a moment before was quickly doused.
Alma led Julianna to
a curtained-off area in the corner of the room. She opened the curtain, revealing a small shower stall. There was soap and bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Alma reached into the stall and turned on the water and pulled the curtain closed. “Shower quickly and wash your hair.”
Not knowing what else to do, Julianna stepped into the shower, enjoying the hot, soothing spray in spite of the situation. She stood with her head back, letting the water cascade over her. “Hurry,” Alma whispered on the other side of the curtain. Julianna reached for the shampoo and lathered her hair. As she was soaping her body, the water suddenly went from hot to tepid and rapidly to cold. Julianna shut off the water.
She peeked past the curtain. Alma was standing there with the towel. Julianna rubbed her hair with it and then wrapped it around her body. She stared at Alma, wondering if this woman was there of her own free will.
Alma took a second towel and laid it on the floor. She pointed. “Lie down and spread your legs. I will shave you.”
“What?” Julianna didn’t move.
“It’s essential that you be smooth for your presentation. The girls are always kept smooth here on the island. You will be shaved daily. Be glad it’s me this first time and not one of the guards. They aren’t always so careful with the razor.”
The girls. So there were other women here, women like her. How many? Where were they kept? What were they kept for? She shuddered, her mind refusing to dwell on the horrible possibilities.
Alma went behind a screened partition and Julianna could hear the sound of water running. A moment later she returned with a bowl of soapy water, a can of shaving cream and a razor. Could that razor be used as a weapon, Julianna wondered. Even if she did get hold of it, how much damage could a safety razor inflict? She didn’t want to hurt Alma; she only wanted to escape.
Alma pointed again to the floor and then glanced at the camera. “Please,” she said softly. “You will pay a heavy price if you disobey. Don’t let that happen, I beg you.”
Frightened by these words, Julianna knelt on the towel and lay back, letting her own towel fall open. Alma shaved her underarms and legs first, before focusing on her pubic hair, which was sparse to begin with. She was careful, moving in slow even strokes over Julianna’s pubic mound and labia, running a light finger in the wake of the razor. Julianna kept her eyes closed, holding herself as still as possible as the sharp blades scraped gently over her skin. She had never been so embarrassed in her life.
Finally satisfied, Alma sat back. “There,” she said. “That’s done. Now for your hair and makeup.” She allowed Julianna to wrap the towel around herself again, and led her to a small vanity with a mirror over it, a low stool set in front of it. The single-room bungalow was actually a rather pleasant space, the neatly made bed and vanity adding a feminine touch. The bare walls were whitewashed and windows set into opposite sides of the room let the sun stream in through pale blue, gauzy curtains. Against one wall stood a clothing rack filled with white dresses of varying lengths and sizes.
“Sit on the stool, please.” Julianna sat down, facing the mirror. There was a bruise on her face where the man had struck her on the boat and her eyes were puffy and red from crying the night before. She touched the bruise and looked at Alma in the mirror, blurting in terror, “What’s going to happen to me?” A sharp look from the woman made her lower her voice to a whisper. “What is this place? Where are we? Please, you have to tell me.”
Alma shook her head. “Hush. No questions. Not now. They always listen on the first day especially.” She cast a nervous glance back at the camera and shook her head again. In a louder voice, she said, “We need to choose a dress for you.” She eyed Julianna in the mirror, pursing her lips and tilting her head. She went to the clothes rack and returned holding a dress. “Try this on.”
Julianna sighed in defeat, certain now Alma would tell her nothing. She stood, pulling the dress over her head and letting the towel fall. The silky garment hung loosely to just above the knee. Though it was sheer, and no underwear was being offered, it was definitely better than nothing.
“What size shoe do you wear?” Alma asked.
“Seven and a half.”
Alma went to the dress rack and Julianna now noticed a row of shoe boxes set beneath it. Alma selected and brought it to her. The shoes inside were black and shiny with very high heels—nothing Julianna would ever choose for herself. For the moment, Alma set them aside.
Alma gestured for her to sit again and Julianna obeyed. She dried Julianna’s hair with a blow dryer and fluffed it with her fingers. “You have lovely hair,” she said, “and such fair skin.” She shook her head as if this observation was cause for pity rather than praise.
Jay opened the door and leaned in. “We about done here?” He flashed a smiled at Alma and she smiled back, a real smile, though a very brief one. As she turned away, her face smoothed back into a neutral expression. “Yes, very nearly done.” He nodded and shut the door.
“We must hurry,” Alma said. “I think I can conceal that mark.” Lightly she touched the bruise left by Vince’s hand. Pulling a plastic box from beneath the counter, she reached in and took out a bottle of foundation and container of cotton balls. Julianna closed her eyes as the woman applied makeup to her cheeks, eyes and lips. The experience was surreal—being prepared as if she were an object for display and sale.
“I’m so afraid,” she said, tears forming in her eyes.
“I know. I’m sorry. Don’t cry. You’ll mess up the mascara.” As she applied the makeup to Julianna’s face, Alma leaned close, her mouth just beside Julianna’s ear, her voice barely a whisper. “Focus on what you can control. They can imprison your body but don’t let them break your spirit.” In a louder voice, she said, “See how lovely you look.” Julianna followed Alma’s gaze and saw herself in the mirror, her hair falling in shiny waves to her shoulders, the makeup expertly applied, wide eyes staring back at her with a look of stark fear.
The door swung open again and Vince entered the bungalow. “Let’s go,” he barked.
“Time’s up. She better be ready, Alma, or—” He stopped mid-threat and stared at Julianna, raising his thick eyebrows. “Nice,” he said, drawing out the word with evident appreciation. “She cleans up pretty good. Jesus, if I had the money, I’d buy her.”
Julianna felt Alma’s cool fingers on her arm. “Courage,” Alma whispered.
Jay stepped inside and the two men moved toward her. Instinctively Julianna took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. She was given a pair of flip-flops to wear as she was led away between the two men. Jay held the shoebox beneath one arm. As they walked along a path they passed a long single-story building made out of the same white brick as the building she’d been to the night before. It had the feel of an army barracks, or worse, a prison. There were a few windows but they were set high along the walls and covered with bars. There was no one in sight.
As they walked in the daylight she saw the perimeter of the island was ringed by palms trees, past which she guessed lay the sandy shores and the dock. She realized as she walked that not only was she still thirsty, she was starving. “Can I get something to eat?” she asked as they hustled her along.
“That’s up to the bosses,” Jay said. “They’ll take care of all that.” This was a less than satisfying answer, but Julianna had learned enough already to know that was the end of the discussion.
Once inside the building they stopped in front of the same room as the night before. This time the door was closed. Jay opened the shoebox and removed the shoes, placing them on the floor in front of Julianna. “Put them on,” he said.
“I don’t think I can walk in those,” Julianna protested.
“You better learn how fast,” Vince snapped.
With a sigh, Julianna slipped off the flip-flops and stepped into the high heels that forced her feet into Barbie-doll arches. Jay knocked on the door and it was pulled open by Stephen, who stepped back, gesturing for them to enter.
Ja
y and Vince led her to a corner of the room that had been set up like a photo studio, with a black sheet draped against the wall, and bright camera lights placed in front of it. A stool sat to one side. There was a large camera on a tripod and Jason stood near it, watching as Julianna was led to stand in front of the camera. The two men let her go and stepped away. Julianna stood uncertainly, trying to stay balanced on the high heels as she wrapped her arms around herself.
Jason assumed his position behind the camera. “We’re going to get some pictures for your portfolio. Just stand naturally, hands at your sides.” He began to take pictures. “Don’t look so frightened,” he ordered, still clicking. “Smile.”
Julianna tried to force her lips into something that approximated a smile. This whole thing was so surreal she was having a hard time grasping it. “Hands on your hips. Turn to the left. Drop your chin a little. Yes…good.” He continued to click for a while and then unscrewed the camera from its tripod and moved closer.
“Lift your dress up to your waist.” It was Stephen who spoke, his voice calmly matter-of-fact. Julianna stared from him to Jason and back again without moving to obey.
Stephen glowered at her, taking a step toward her. It was her against four men. She knew she either did what they said now, or after they forced her. Frightened and embarrassed, Julianna touched the hem of the flimsy dress. Swallowing hard, she lifted the edges, revealing her shaven mons for the camera.
“Sit on the stool,” Jason said. “Lift the dress first. Bare ass on the stool.” Biting her lip, Julianna obeyed. “Spread your legs, show the camera that pretty little cunt.” Her face flaming, Julianna scooted to the edge of the stool, dying a thousand deaths as he knelt before her, the camera nearly touching her as he snapped shot after shot.
She was ordered to bend over the stool, exposing her bare ass to the camera and again forced to spread her legs in that position. They made her cup her breasts and finger herself, all the while clicking away. Finally Stephen said, “I think we have enough, Jason. Do you agree?”
Dark Obsessions - Volume I: Four Intense Capture Fantasies in One Sizzling Collection Page 2