I hated the collar. It chafed my neck. When I attempted to take it off on the first day Becca’s dark eyes went wide and she begged me to put it back on. Apparently removing the collar warranted punishment. I didn’t doubt her so I reluctantly put it back on.
He bent and hooked the leash into my collar and gave it a tug. I rose to my feet and dutifully followed behind him, as two henchmen I had yet to see before took up the rear. Was I being sold? I shuddered. Why else the change? I was going to auction and being sold. At the top of the stairs instead of turning left in the direction of The Boss’s office we turned right.
Stopping at a plain solid oak door, which was the norm for all the doors on this level, my Master opened the door and led me inside.
“Stay outside and ensure no one disturbs us,” he ordered to the goons behind me, who quickly obeyed without question. Once they were gone and the door closed, he released his hold on my leash, walked to the door and locked it, then turned back to face me. “Look at me, slave.”
I lifted my eyes to look into his. He frowned and stepped forward. Instinctively I took a couple of steps back, not noticing the twin-sized bed until it hit the back of my legs and I fell backward onto it.
“Well, shit. Stop trying to get away. It won’t do you a lick of good aside from annoying me.” He approached me, bent over and undid my collar, removing it from my neck. I let out a sigh of relief; it was amazing how good something as simple as having your neck free from the leather contraption could feel. I rolled my neck back and forth as I sat up on the bed and inched my way backward until my back was flush against the cool wooden wall.
I remained quiet as I watched him walk over to the far corner of the room. It was then that I noticed a video camera aimed at the bed. My Master reached up and flicked a switch. The green light at the top of the camera died out.
He turned back to me and I allowed myself a moment to examine him as he proceeded back across the room toward me. It struck me again how handsome he was. His faded blue jeans were worn hanging low on his hips and his blue t-shirt, which matched his blue eyes to perfection, clung to his muscular chest and torso.
“I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Lance.” He shrugged. “In here anyhow.” He nodded his head toward the door. “Out there, I’m Master like everyone else.”
My brow knitted as I stared at him. This was unexpected and confusing. Why was I allowed the liberty of calling him by name in here?
“Why are you doing this?” The question I swore to myself I’d never ask any of them spilled from my lips.
Grabbing a wooden chair that was at the foot of the bed, he pulled it over to the side of the bed, turned it so the back was facing me and straddled it, folding his arms across the back. He clucked his tongue off of the roof of his mouth and by his expression I could see he was considering my question.
He eventually sighed, thrusting a hand into his short dark hair. “That’s a complicated question to answer.”
Feeling more brazen, I shifted on the bed and folded my legs under me. “Why is it complicated?”
“Because it is.”
“Who are you?”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Aside from being Lance?”
I nodded. This may be a plot to get me to lower my defenses. Most likely it was, but this was the most normal conversation I’d had since I was taken. For the first time I wasn’t trembling with fear. It put me at ease, slightly, and just added to the questions I had about the situation.
“I’m the son of the man who runs this operation.”
Despite knowing that already, I nodded. I opened my mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again.
He nodded his head at me. “Go ahead. This is your opportunity to get some answers, maybe the last one, don’t waste it.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“You’re going up for auction in a week’s time.”
“I don’t want to go up for auction.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“Who’s going to buy me? What happens? Where am I going?”
“Belgium, Israel, Turkey… You might even stay here in the U.S. Hard to say. We’re equal opportunity exporters. We get buyers from all over the world. I can’t really comment on who will buy you or what happens after you’re sent out. It’s up to the buyer, our part ends once the transaction is complete and pick-up is made. If you need training you may stay longer, but considering you’re a virgin, there shouldn’t be much training needed. Most of the time it’s the buyer who wants to mold you into what they want – especially with the virgins.”
“You don’t seem like the rest of them.”
He huffed. “You don’t know me. Why would I be here if I wasn’t?”
I shrugged. I hardly had any answers. Just questions.
“I heard them say you were going to train me…”
He took a deep breath in and slowly released it. “That’s the plan.”
“And what are you going to do to me?”
“For now, you’ll learn how to suck cock like a good little slave. As you can imagine, our buyers don’t appreciate slaves who gag when being sucked off.”
I bristled up, jutting my chin out. Considering everything that was going on right now, being told I suck at giving head seemed trivial, but for some reason it pissed me off. “Excuse me, but having your father ram his dick in my mouth doesn’t give me much incentive to do well.”
“You’re going to have to learn to endure, 342, and learn how to pretend to enjoy it. If you want to live then that’s a necessity.”
“My name is Gwen.” Where this rebellion was coming from I didn’t know. Perhaps it was because he was letting me get away with it. I was like a puppy testing its boundaries with new owners. Or perhaps it was because deep down I knew this may be the last time I would be able to give any type of defiance.
To my surprise he laughed. “From what I’m told the past few days you’ve been quiet and obedient. Why am I getting the privilege of your attitude?”
“Just lucky I guess.”
My eyes narrowed at him. Was this a game? Was he pretending to be somewhat friendly so I’d let my guard down? I’d read about situations like that before; the captor would act like they were doing the captive a favour by being somewhat friendly so the captive would be brainwashed into thinking they were a good person and be more compliant, eager even, to please them. Was that the case here?
“Why are you being nice to me?”
Humour danced in his eyes. “You’re locked in a room with me, naked and a few minutes from getting your first lesson on how to suck cock. If you consider that nice then I’m beginning to think you’ve been involved in some seriously fucked-up relationships.”
“I mean, you seem different than the rest. Is it because I’m your first?”
A roar of laughter erupted from him. “An interesting way of saying it, but yes, I usually don’t get involved with the training process.”
“Why not? I would think that would be the most enjoyable part.”
“Considering, as you put it, you’re my first, I can’t say either way. Perhaps I’ll let you know after the session.”
He stood, set the chair off to the side and began to walk over to the bed. My body froze. Not yet, I’m not ready to be trained. I glanced at the locked door, contemplating escape. If I took them by surprise maybe I could get… I stopped the train of thought in its tracks. If I even got out of the room, I’d be lucky to make it a few feet before being tackled like at the doctor’s office.
His hand reached out and cupped my chin, forcing my eyes back to meet his, and I trembled at his touch, flinching out of his grasp. His expression darkened, displeased with my reaction. “Your attention is to be on me at all times, are we clear, slave?”
“Yes, Master.”
He grabbed my chin again, forcing my eyes to him. “And you’re not to tremble at my touch in fear. The only trembling is in pleasure.”
Easy fo
r him to say!
“Are we clear?”
“I can’t help being scared. Only a crazy person wouldn’t be.”
“Have I done anything to make you fear me?”
“Not yet.”
His jaw clenched. He released my chin and ran his index finger lightly along the side of my neck, across my collarbone and down the valley between my breasts. A shiver ran down my spine and my breath hitched in my throat.
Of all the people at the compound who could be touching me right now I could do a lot worse than Lance, I tried to reason with myself, then became disgusted at myself for sitting there rationalizing that if I were going to get raped at least it was with a “nice,” hot, rapist.
His eyes left mine and lazily drifted down my body and back up again. “You had a boyfriend before?”
I nodded.
“And what did you do with him?”
“Lance?”
“Sexually,” he clarified. “I need to know what I’m working with.”
I could feel the heat creeping up my neck and burning my cheeks. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t answer. Couldn’t he just get it over with? Why did he feel the need to humiliate me with intimate questions?
“I… I’m not comfortable…”
He knelt down so his eyes were at level with mine. “You’ll answer whatever questions I ask of you. Every part of you is mine to do with as I please: mind, body and soul. Don’t forget that, so you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Modesty will only make this more difficult on both of us.”
“I was saving myself for graduation, but I don’t think I wanted to give my virginity to him. I want to be in love with the person…” My face grew warm again and another bout of tears threatened to fill my eyes. I saved myself for nothing, so some stranger could use and force himself on me.
Hooking his finger under my chin, he lifted my eyes to meet his. For a brief second I thought I saw a hint of compassion in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “That’s not your life anymore; the quicker you accept that the easier it’ll get. Now answer the question. What have you done with him?”
To accept it would mean I was giving up hope of having my freedom again and I wasn’t ready for that yet. After a moment I answered, “I gave him blow jobs and hand jobs.”
“Have you ever had your pussy licked?”
I lowered my gaze. Why did he have to be so crass? He was wrong, he could still embarrass me and I doubted this would get easier. I supposed maybe that was a good thing, it meant I still had a bit of dignity left. I had to remember that.
Without warning he gave me a push backward, grabbed my thighs and pulled me toward him until my bottom was on the edge of the bed, my legs spread on either side of his shoulders and his upper body settled between my legs. I attempted to wiggle away from him, but with impressive speed he stood and positioned himself over me, between my legs, grabbing my two wrists in one of his large hands and pinning them above my head. The deep spicy smell of his cologne drifted to my nose and I hated that I liked it and that it drew me into him. I didn’t want to like a thing about him, not his cologne, not his smile and sure as hell not the feel of his body covering mine.
I continued to squirm and buck under him, attempting to free myself, but he was bigger and stronger and he easily contained me. As I squirmed under him, his erection swelled, the ridge of his cock pressing against my pelvis. I fought until I was breathless and panting hard under his heavy body. Tears of frustration sprang up in my eyes. I closed them and turned my head to the side, not wanting him to see my anguish.
“Are you done?” His tone was that of an annoyed parent talking to an unruly child and only upset me further.
“Fuck you!” Despite my words, my fight had exhausted me and all I could do was lie limp under him.
While his body remained over mine, the weight lifted slightly and to my displeasure he began to chuckle. Angry, I turned my face and glared up at him with tear-filled eyes. The sadistic bastard found this funny.
He stopped laughing, but a smile remained on his lips. Damn, I hated how handsome he was and how sexy his smile made him look. Men this evil didn’t deserve to be so beautiful.
“Are you done?” he repeated.
I wanted to fight some more, but knew there was nowhere to go. Ultimately he’d win. “Yes, Master.” Despite my words I couldn’t help but glare up at him.
“There’s one thing you need to understand and the sooner you understand it the easier this will be: In this place, I’m the best friend you have.”
“I don’t need friends like you!”
Releasing my hands, he planted a hand on either side of my head, lifting the majority of his weight from my body, allowing me to breathe easier. “The idiots said you were docile. But you can’t fool me for a second. I know what you’re doing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re hoping that if you play along, they’ll let down their guard and you’ll eventually get a chance of escape.”
I attempted to keep my expression blank, but knew my eyes were betraying me. How foolish of me to think I could outsmart them. Something else to add to my recent list of stupid decisions – it was right up there with not letting Brandon drive me home.
His expression grew gravely serious as his gaze caught mine. “I need you to listen very, very closely to me Gwen, and you need to trust what I’m saying to you.”
“Why should I trust you? So you’re not going to make me suck your cock? You’re not going to touch me against my will?”
“I wish I could say no to those questions, but I can’t. I have a job to do here. Emotion doesn’t factor in. But I am going to say this once and only once. There’s no escaping the compound, Gwen, if you attempt to escape you will be killed, or worse.”
“There’s something worse than death?”
He nodded, his expression growing dark, and a chill rushed through me. “There’s a lot worse.”
“Then do me the favour and kill me now and get it over with!” I only half meant it. Maybe Becca was right. If this was as good as it got then maybe continuing to live wasn’t such a great option. We stared into each other’s eyes and I watched his eyes turn dark with anger and frustration as his jaw clenched.
“God dammit woman!” He slipped off of me and stood at the edge of the bed, glaring down at me. I had to force myself to keep from cringing. Suddenly he turned from me and stormed to the door. “My men will take you back to your cell.” Unlocking the door, he yanked it open and exited without another look in my direction.
Chapter 5
Lance
There’s no better way to see what a person is all about than to take their freedom and see how they cope. I’ve narrowed reactions to captivity into three reactions: those who accept, those who fight and those who plot.
The most common are the accepters, the women who when facing their captives cower. They spend their days crying and asking God what they did to deserve what happened to them and beg for mercy from captors, but mercy doesn’t exist here. These are the women we love and the easiest to turn into the perfect slave.
Then there are the fighters, women who go into immediate fight mode; they battle every step of the way, even if it means they’ll be hurt in the process. Turning fighters into perfect submissive slaves is next to impossible because their will is so strong, they tend to go insane before becoming submissive. For them there are usually only two outcomes to being enslaved, they go insane or die – although the ones who have mental breaks are “put down” since they’re useless to us, so I suppose there’s only one outcome for these women … death.
And then there is the final type, the plotters. These women are hard to come by, but when we do they’re the most challenging to deal with. They pretend to be what we expect, they play the game to perfection, all the while their minds attempt to be one step ahead of us. They’re deceptive, they’re smart and they’re nearly impossible to anticipate, aside from bein
g predictably unpredictable – they’re dangerous both to their captors and themselves.
It had only taken me one fifteen-minute session with her to know Gwen was a plotter. I also knew she was going to get herself killed, not intentionally mind you, but that would be the end result. She was going to play her role and make an escape the first chance she got and likely be killed in the process. I needed her to see that escape wasn’t an option, because to remove such a beautifully unique creature from the world would be a travesty. But then again, would death be worse than having such a wonderful spirit beaten down into a shell of herself?
Neither outcome appealed to me. I wanted her just the way she was; not broken, not a shell of herself and certainly not tossed into a hole in the ground. I simply wanted her. These feelings were going to put everything I had planned in jeopardy. If I were smart I’d pass her off to someone else, and forget about her. However, the thought of one of those other monsters touching her filled me with rage. I barely knew her, but as far as I was concerned she was mine and God help anyone who hurt her.
~*~*~*~*~
Gwen
“Who’s your trainer?” Becca asked as she scarfed down her meal. I thought it was supposed to be chicken, but no one could say for sure. It was presumably the day after my first “training session.”
“Lance,” I answered between bites.
Becca stopped eating and gave me an astonished stare. “The son?”
I nodded.
“What did he do to you?”
I shrugged, tearing at the piece of white meat with my teeth. After swallowing the bite I answered. “Nothing. We talked and…”
Losing all interest in her meal, Becca’s mouth dropped open. After a moment she snapped it shut. “Talked? That’s it?”
Bad & Bold - A 7 Book Bad Boy Romance Collection! Page 77