by Box Set
Fuck.
He’s grinning like a loon when I glance back up at him.
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I demand. Other than it being all messed up from his continual attacks at grabbing it.
“Nothing. But she’s going to be getting you ready for the auction in a few days, and it’s easier if she has an idea of what she’s working with. You’ll be nice to her, and you won’t bother her with any questions or try to get her to help you. She’s worked with my father for over a decade. She’s loyal to him and trying to get her to side with you will only get your ass in trouble.”
“Fine.” If she’s anything like Tricia, asking her anything would be a waste of breath anyway.
He shakes his head and heaves a heavy sigh. “You’ll end up black and blue if you keep this up.” He steps toward me, and I flinch when he grabs my arm. Spinning me around, he whacks my ass half a dozen times before it even registers that he’s spanking me. I hop from one foot to the other and try to cover my ass, but he simply avoids my hands.
“Watch your tone and mind your words!” He punctuates each word with a strong pop. By the time he’s finished, I’m out of breath and weak. I’ve never had trouble remembering to use the word Sir before, but it’s different here. It doesn’t fit him. But my burning ass reminds me I need to say it, if only for the sake of being able to sit.
I’m spun around again, and he presses his forehead to mine. For a moment, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me; he wraps his hand around my neck holding me to him. But he makes a growling sound and shoves me away from him.
“She’ll be up soon,” he says and marches out of the room. My ass hurts from the short spanking, but I don’t bother trying to rub away the sting. I just add the ache to the rest of them.
What the hell is taking my sister so long? She has to have realized I’m missing by now, and surely, she can figure out where I am.
I only have four more days left by my calculations. If she doesn’t get me, if I don’t find a way out of this place, I could really become property to someone much meaner than Kristoff. Someone that would love to see me in pain and bleed for them. I’ve heard horrible stories, seen pictures of the victims once they are found after being discarded.
I can’t become one of them.
11
Andrei has called for me, interrupting my plans to bring up a book for Magdalena to read. Being kept in one room for days on end starts to play with the mind, and I need her to be sharp when it comes time to sell her at auction. A broken slave is seen as a whipping post, and I can’t have her fall into the hands of some bastard who gets off on slicing and dicing his women.
I hand off the book to one of the servants with the new security code to my apartment and instructions to make sure Magdalena gets the material. It’s just an old novel I found in the library. My father doesn’t read, no one on the compound uses the damn room other than to hold meetings and look smarter than they actually are.
“Kristoff!” my father greets me when I walk into his office. He’s puffing on a thick cigar and walking to his desk. “I thought you’d be busy with your little pet.” He flashes me a grin I know too well. The forced sort that sends the hairs on my neck stand at attention. He’s not pleased.
“You needed something?” I ask, not taking the bait. So that’s his problem. He doesn’t like that I’ve moved Magdalena from the cells downstairs to my apartment.
The corners of his lips fall, morphing his grin into a mild sneer.
“Yes. I’ve been given an offer for the girl.” He stands behind his desk. I won’t sit until he does, he knows this and keeps standing.
“You said you would auction her off,” I remind him, my mind already playing out scenarios of what monster has put a bid in early.
“Yes, but this offer is too large to give up. Maksim wants her. He’s offered double his last purchase. We won’t see that profit at an auction,” he explains, puffing again on his cigar. He’s right. Twice the amount would cover the purchase of two or three girls.
“Why does he want her so badly? He has his own stock of women, his own slaves.” The stories I’ve heard of the women he keeps makes my stomach turn. Has he grown tired torturing his own women and now wants fresh meat?
Andrei’s eyebrows kick up in curiosity. I’ve never asked about a buyer before. I realize my mistake too late to take it back. Though I’m sure he’s already having his own theories.
“Why do you care?” he asks, pointing the cigar at me. “That’s what I want to know. You stop Matvei from having some fun with the new toy, and then you lock her away in your apartment? What’s going on, Kristoff?”
My hands clench at my sides, but I force them back open, softening my stance. He can’t see what I’m feeling. Over the years I’ve gotten very good at hiding my distaste for him, my repulsion at the man he is - I can’t let him see it now.
“It’s not like Maksim, that’s all.” I fold my arms over my chest. “When will he make the pickup, or should I get a transport ready.” Saying the words nearly strangle me.
“I haven’t decided if I’m going to take the offer. Maksim - he pisses me off with his attitude and disrespect. Like he’s so high up the food chain no one can touch him.” Him telling me about the offer is his way of seeing my reaction, seeing if I’ll protest it, but I haven’t gotten that far into thinking about it. He just gave me a ray of hope.
“I’ll keep to the schedule then until you decide.” I drop my hands and turn to leave. Waste of fucking time, this talk. His games are easily seen through. Maksim is a bigger player because he uses his fucking head for business. He’s grown his business, he’s spread out past just trafficking. My father can’t keep his dick clear of pussy long enough to think past trying out his newest slave.
“I need you tonight.” His words stop me just as I reach for the handle. His voice, deeper, darker than usual. “There’s a meeting I need you to take care of for me. A new buyer is in town for the night, wants some ass kissing. You’re going to take care of it for me. It will be good practice for you for when you take over the business.”
He says this like he’s handing over a grocery list.
“Don’t worry about your pet. I’ll make sure she’s put through her paces tonight.” I can’t help the acid feeling in my stomach, it’s churning and twisting in my stomach, burning a hole through me. To tell him no would set him off.
“You want her tonight?” I ask, trying to sound merely curious. He doesn’t usually get involved until the women are ready for auction. No patience for unpolished toys, and he can’t afford to mark the product before it goes on the auction block.
“Yes.” He nods and rolls his wrist. “It’s been awhile since I worked with a new toy.”
I step toward him but catch myself before I lose myself. I’ve done too much to move forward to let him piss me off and shove me back.
“Don’t worry. Dr. Morrow told me - her ass is off limits for a bit longer. I won’t touch her there.” His promise knocks the breath from me, but I recover quickly. He’s been talking to the doctor. He knows what happened, what condition her body is in.
“What time is the dinner?” I ask, changing the topic. Even if I find a way out of going to the meeting, I can’t deny him access to her. To do so would make things worse for her, because Andrei doesn’t need an excuse to take things to the next level. And any sort of resistance on my end would push him in that direction.
“Seven-thirty. It’s in London so you’ll need to leave soon. I’ll have a car ready for you.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. But any sort of decent life had flickered out of them years ago. Nothing but a shell of a human remained. The parts that desired power and money and didn’t give a fuck on how he got either.
But was I so different?
“Fine. I’ll get ready.”
“I’ve had the girl brought to my room already,” he tells me when I’ve opened the door. I grit my teeth and give a curt nod.
I won’t have a chance to warn her
, to beg her to behave. She’s going to have to get through this on her own.
Heading up to my room, I have to hold onto the hope that she’s learned something in the past few days. That maybe she will heed my warnings.
Holding onto hope. Sounds more like her thing than mine. Maybe I’m learning a few things from her, too.
12
A strangling stench wakes me. Burning fills my lungs and I gasp for air while coughing out the fumes tinging my insides. An attempt to lift my hands fail.
Frantically, I yank and pull, but my wrists are bound in front of me. When I open my eyes, I’m still shrouded in darkness. My feet are as useless as my hands. Where am I?
Reminding myself to keep calm doesn’t help much, but I force my memory to search for the truth. What the fuck happened?
I had been standing near the windows in Kristoff’s room. Not bothering with the idea of escaping through them anymore once I had seen the distance to the ground below. The door to his room had burst open, startling me, and men charged me.
Yanking harder on the binds on my wrists, I survey my position. I’m bent over, knees on cushioned planks and my hands bound below my chest. A spanking bench? I’ve been in this particular contraption before, though my legs are spread much wider than I remember. My ass is propped up with a pillow, or a leather wedge. I can’t fucking tell because there’s a damn blindfold over my eyes.
“Ah, good. You are finally awake.” Andrei’s thick accent sends a sharp shiver down my spine. The room’s cold, but his presence chills me further. Where is Kristoff?
“What do you want?” I demand, turning in the direction I think he’s standing. There’s a slight echo after I speak. I don't think I’m in the comfort of Kristoff’s apartment anymore. At the realization, the dampness of the room settles into my skin. I’m back in the lower levels of the house - where the cells are.
He laughs. “I already have what I want.”
Being obtuse isn’t helping my level of anxiety. I’m naked, bound, and in prime position for things I’ve read about in news articles and police reports. I yank harder, pull with more force on my ankles. His laughter bounces off the walls and I hear more shuffling.
“Where’s Kristoff?” I ask, simmering down. There are more people here now, I can feel them. I sense their fucking erections.
“My son is busy.” His tone sours with his statement. There’s more between Andrei and Kristoff than just being father and son. And as curious as I am about that, right now I need to figure out how to get the fuck off the spanking bench and back into Kristoff’s room.
“Then—”
He scoffs and slaps me hard across my face, snapping my head to the side. “You talk too much,” he reprimands me and grabs my hair, pulling my head back. I would probably be looking right into those dark beady little eyes of his, except he’s taken away my sight with the damn blindfold.
“You’re here as a gift. My men have been working hard and they deserve a little fun. My son has been too soft with you.”
“Soft?” A little laugh comes out of me. Probably from the fear penetrating my body. I’m slowly piecing together what Andrei’s words mean.
“I don’t really care if you accept your position or if you don’t. Most men I work with prefer you fight them. Same goes for tonight. However, I don’t want my men’s cocks bitten off, so you’ll need to be restrained a bit more. Matvei? Come, put the ring in, then you and the other men may begin.”
My hair’s released, and I whip my head to one side then the other, I have to get away, I have to. There’s no fucking way I’m letting anyone touch me.
Kristoff said there’d be no more forcing.
Kristoff’s not here.
Why isn’t he here? Why would he let his father take me?
My head is grasped between two strong hands and lifted up. The blindfold is eased away from my eyes, just above my brow. After blinking a few times, I see him. Matvei. From my cell when I first came. Kristoff saved me from him once.
The pit in my stomach warns me from hoping he’ll do it again.
“Ahh, you remember me? Hmm? Good.” He pats my cheek then grips my chin, pulling my jaw downward. His other hand yanks my head back.
“Fuck you.” I try to sound fierce. But the smile that reveals his yellowing teeth, tells me I only humor him.
“That’s the plan,” he says in Russian. I realize both of them had spoken Russian, and I’ve answered. Not that my language skills was much of a defense, but at least it gave me the chance to overhear them. They could speak more freely thinking I didn’t understand.
“I won’t let you,” I say and clamp my teeth shut.
“You have no say, no choice. You are a whore, just a little plaything for me and my friends here.” He looks up and away from me. “Come, come over and let her see you. Let her know how many cocks are going to be shoved into her cunt, her ass, and her mouth.”
There’s a little tilt to his lips. He’s really having a good time. I might vomit.
Four men shuffle from behind me and line up behind him. All of them have their shirts off and their cocks hanging out of their jeans. They are stroking themselves, like ravenous wolves waiting for the feast to begin.
My struggles increase, but nothing’s changed. I’m just as bound, just as naked.
“No ass,” Andrei announces from somewhere in the room. “Kristoff did a thorough job of breaking her there, I don’t want more damage. We only have a few days before the sale.”
Matvei’s smile falls, but he nods in agreement.
He releases me, and I drop my head. This isn’t happening. Kristoff will burst in any minute. Or maybe my sister will find me. Now is the perfect time for a rescue mission. Right now.
A steel ring is pressed to my lips, but I fight to keep it out. Turning my head, clamping my lips, but he’s stronger. So much stronger.
I’m slapped again, this time stars burst into my vision and when I open my mouth to work the pain out of my jaw, the ring is shoved in. He easily maneuvers it to keep my mouth propped open and he buckles it behind me, tossing the blindfold from my head.
“Don’t want you to miss a thing,” he says with the cheer of a kid in a candy store and pats my head.
He stands up, unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock. If I wasn’t about to piss myself at the idea of all these men touching me, I’d laugh. He’s pencil-thin - long, but so thin I don’t think he needed the ring in my mouth at all.
My hair is yanked again, and his cock shoves into my throat. I gag at the intrusion and fight to pull back, but he holds my head. In and out he fucks my throat. The width of his cock doesn’t matter, he makes up for it in length. My throat stretches around him, but he’s going too fast, and I can’t breathe.
“Fuck yes.” He growls over me and grabs both sides of my head, thrusting harder into me, faster. I sputter and cough around his dick, but he never relents. “Iosif, smack her ass! I want to see the jiggle while I fuck her whore mouth.”
A second later a hard slap to my ass jolts me forward, making me take the cock farther down.
Matvei laughs. “Good. Again!” he calls and another smack, and another. Every time Iosif hits me, I’m jolted forward. Matvei is getting a show and a blow job.
Finally, he pulls out of my throat and I sputter more, clearing my throat and spitting onto the ground. I’ll never get the taste of him out of my mouth.
Another smack hits my ass, but it’s different. Iosif is standing in front of me. His hand is working over his cock, stroking it until a large bead of pre-cum sits on the edge. He steps over to me and rubs it on my cheek with a laugh.
While I’m trying to move my face away from him, Matvei thrusts his cock into my pussy. I scream at the intrusion. Pain ricochets through my body as he slaps me repeatedly and shoves his cock into me over and over again. The burn overwhelms me. His fingers dig into my hips as he fucks me. I struggle, wiggle, moving everything in my body that can move, but it does nothing. I’m completely helpless.
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br /> Why hasn’t the door opened yet? This is exactly when the hero is supposed to be charging in, but the door isn’t opening.
Iosif shoves his cock into my mouth, stifling my scream when Matvei thrusts particularly hard.
“Viktor, Here, you fuck her next,” Matvei says and yanks out of me. My mind doesn’t have time to comprehend the dick being thrust down my throat, choking me because my cunt is burning again, stretching around a thick cock.
I’m yelling, screaming, but everything is muffled. Pain hits me from both ends of my body. The fucking ring keeps my mouth opened wide enough for Iosif to keep throat-fucking me with ease. Too much ease for him. I can’t get enough air. When I try to use my tongue to push him out, he wraps a hand around my throat.
“Such a nice pussy,” Viktor says from behind me. “So fucking tight.” He smacks my ass with appreciation. “Good ass too! You sure we can’t fuck it a little?” he asks, thrusting harder into me.
“No ass. Have fun with her.” Andrei’s voice carries over from somewhere and I hear the door.
Finally! Kristoff will help me. I’m expecting his roar of outrage, but instead I hear the steel door close.
“Take my cock,” Iosif grunts, pulling my ears toward him and shoves his dick all the way into my throat. I’m gagging hard, but he holds me there, the coarse curls of his pubic hair tickle my nose. “Oh, fuck.” He growls, retreats then plunges forward.
Thick cum spurts down my throat. He’s grunting his orgasm, and pulls back, letting more of the hot ropes of his release hit my tongue and then steps back and smacks my face with his cock. He’s still coming and it’s dripping on my cheeks and nose.
He grunts in satisfaction and steps away. “Fuck that’s good.”
“You asshole! You didn’t even fuck her yet!” one of the other men jeer him.
Iosif laughs. “Her throat was fucking sweet.”