Masquerade

by Derek Masters

  I also take notice that the windows face the back yard, and with the amount of land that the property sits on, there isn’t a neighbor to be seen. That means that I can’t even bang on the window to get anyone’s attention. Not that it matters all that much because the windows are tinted. I can see out, but I have a feeling that nobody can see inside. Besides, I’m sure the windows are made of multiple layers of thick glass so nobody would be able to hear me anyway.

  Scanning the room for other means of escape is proving to be fruitless. The vents are way too small for me to try to crawl through, and unless there are hidden doors or compartments somewhere, I don’t see much hope. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I know I can’t stay here. I won’t stay here.

  Ugh, I don’t even have my purse anymore. That means my cell phone is gone, so I can’t even call anyone for help, but I’m sure that’s by design.

  Suddenly, I start to relax, and calm starts to come over me. Through all of this stress, I didn’t even think about how I’d gotten to the event in the first place. My parents are here at the party. They’re right downstairs, and they’ll come looking for me at the end of the night. We might not always get along, but there’s no way my dad would leave without taking me with him. He saw that I was sneaking away to Brandon’s office, so he knows I haven’t left. The fact that he saw us means he knows who I was with, which can only help me in this case.

  Regardless of our feelings towards one another, my dad would not leave without me, and he sure as hell isn’t going to allow me to rot here with his accountant. He’ll fight for me, and without the cartel there to back him up with their thugs, I’m confident he could handle Brandon.

  Almost as if he was reading my mind, Brandon comes through the door, and when he opens it, I can hear the loud music and the sound of multiple conversations happening at once, confirming to me that the room is soundproof.

  “The party is beginning to wind down, and the guests will start to leave soon,” he says. “It’s almost time for you to play your role.”

  “What? Play my role? What do you mean?” I ask, worried about what he’s going to force me to do for him tonight.

  “Come on, don’t play fucking stupid with me. We both know that your folks are going to come looking for you, and I’m not about to have any additional unwanted attention on me because of you. You’re going to go down to the party, find your parents, and say goodbye to them for the last time.”

  “What? No, Brandon. I can’t just go tell them goodbye. How is that supposed to work? See, you haven’t thought this through,” I try to explain and reason with him, but he won’t hear it. He starts to talk over me.

  “I’ve thought about this plenty, and you need to listen to everything I’m telling you right now. I need you to do exactly as I say. If you do, there won’t be any problems. What you’re going to do is walk down to the event, find your parents and tell them that you aren’t ready to leave.”

  “They’re never going to go for that.”

  “You’re an adult, so they aren’t going to have much choice in the matter. You’re going to tell them that you insist on spending the night here with me. Your dad probably isn’t going to like it, but he will also know he doesn’t have much of a choice. I can easily ruin him with just a couple of leaks to the media, and he knows it.”

  “Okay, and then what happens after that? Don’t you think he’ll expect me home tomorrow or the next day or the day after that?”

  “How the fuck do I know? And I really don’t care, but that’s when you’re going to call him from your cell phone, which I have put up for safekeeping, and pretend that you’re making an impulsive decision to move in and create a life with your new fling.”

  “I can’t believe how egotistical and maniacal you are. Why are you like this?” I ask, seething with rage.

  “Sweetheart, you don’t know a damn thing about me, so don’t even start acting like you’ve got me figured out.”

  “Oh, I think I have a pretty good fucking idea of the type of guy that would want to keep a woman locked up as a slave.”

  “Shut your mouth, go downstairs, and do as you’re told,” he growls, grabbing me by the arm.

  “No, Brandon. I’m not going to just do as I’m told. I won’t. I won’t do it. This is all stupid. You can’t force me to go and tell them that.”

  “Then you have one other option,” he huffs.

  Is he really giving me an option? “What is it?”

  “I’m going to have my team bring your parents to us,” he says, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

  “For what? What are you going to tell them?” I ask, worried about what he might say to them.

  “I’m not going to tell them anything. Since you’re refusing to do what I’ve told you, I’m going to bring them in here and kill all three of you. After that, I’ll go to the party and say goodbye to everyone while my men come in here and clean up your bodies. Do you really want to be the reason your parents are dead? You might want to think about that because you’re running out of time, and I’m running out of patience.”

  He can’t mean what he’s just said. Would he really have my parents killed just because I won’t say what he wants me to say? He can’t mean it. He won’t kill them. My dad is too high profile. He’s bluffing.

  I look up and see Brandon studying my face. He must be able to read me like a book because he nods and walks over to the nightstand next to the bed. Using a key, he opens the drawer and pulls out a gun, a revolver of some sort. He pops the cylinder out and tilts it so I can see that it’s loaded. Without saying a word, he tucks the gun into his waistband and covers it with his blazer.

  “So, what’s it going to be?” He asks. “Are you going to do what I say, or are we going to have to do things the hard way?”

  “I’ll do it,” I finally answer, staring at my feet as I realize I’m completely defeated.

  “Good girl, now come with me.” he grabs me by the wrist and guides me.

  I follow him down to the event. Brandon splits off once I find my parents to let me say my goodbyes to them, which surprises me, but I know he’s not going to be far, and there’s no way that I can make a run for it. I decide it’s best for my parent’s sake to just follow his directions with him keeping a close eye on me.

  “There you are!” My dad says, as I approach him. I thought he’d be pissed after watching me go behind locked doors with Brandon, but he’s not. He must’ve had a few too many. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Yeah, I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be coming home with you tonight.”

  “What? Why not?” He asks, furrowing his brows. He knows that something isn’t right. I can sense it.

  “I decided that I’m staying the night here. Brandon said I could sleep in the bedroom that’s upstairs at the end of the hall.”

  I make sure to tell him exactly where I’ll be in the house.

  “Okay,” he says, but the word comes out slowly as he tries to figure out why I’d stay here. “If you think it’s a good idea,” he frowns at me. I know he disapproves, but he knows he can’t stop me, and he won’t make a scene in front of all of these people by bossing me around like he does at home.

  “I mean, I guess it is. I just don’t know when I’ll be coming home.” His eyes narrow as he continues to make sense of all this, waiting for an explanation from me. “I’m not sure how long I’ll stay.”

  This should raise a giant red flag with my father. I don’t go anywhere, and other than when I went away to college, and even then, I came home regularly because I got homesick. Sometimes I’d want to see my mom even if it was only for a few minutes while she came out of her room, or sometimes I’d miss the comfort of my bed at home. The fact that I said I didn’t know when I was coming home should have set off all kinds of alarms in his head.

  “If that’s what you want to do, I suppose. You’re an adult. Can’t keep you locked away forever. Just keep a low profile. Wouldn’t want the w
rong people seeing you here and making a spectacle of it. That wouldn’t look very good for the family.”

  Holy shit! How can he be so dense? Locking me away forever is exactly what Brandon is trying to do to me. Of course, my dad doesn’t know that, but if my dad doesn’t do something to save me now, this might be the last time I ever see him. Or maybe he wouldn’t. As always, his concern is how he will look if something goes wrong. I’d love to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. I turn to my mom, hoping that through her drunken stupor, her motherly instincts will appear, and she’ll be able to tell something isn’t right.

  “I love you, momma, don’t forget that. I’m not sure when I’ll see you again. I know we don’t always get along, but never forget that I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetie. Have fun.”

  My parents gather their things and leave without even so much as glancing back at me. They didn’t even give me a second thought, which makes me wonder if they were even paying attention to a single word I said.

  I can feel my heart breaking into a million little pieces as I watch them walk out the door and into the night. All of my hope is lost now. It drives home just how little either of them has ever cared about me and how neither of them ever understood me at all.

  Chapter 10

  Brandon

  The last of the guests are starting to make their way to the door, and I know that the real fun is getting closer to beginning. Once the final person exits and the cleanup crew gets busy taking care of the mess left behind, I decide the time has finally come.

  “Come with me,” I say in a tone that lets her know my request isn’t optional.

  “Where are we going?” Her eyes grow wide as I grab her hand and start leading her.

  “It’s time for you to learn,” I reply as we start to make our way through the house.

  “Learn what?” She asks with panic in her voice.

  “Chloe, it’s time to learn your place.”

  I grasp her upper arm and lead her back up the stairs, down the hall, and finally into my bedroom, she had been in earlier.

  “What happens now?” She asks, scrambling to get away from me after I shut the door.

  I move to the armoire located up against the wall as she watches me intently. Once I unlock it, I open the lid, exposing all of the sadistic toys that I have at my disposal.

  “This is my punishment box,” I tell her. “I think that after the stunt you pulled earlier tonight, you need to be punished for your deeds.”

  She doesn’t say a word as she stares at all the contents. Her body shakes with fear, and things haven’t even begun.

  “Chloe, look at me,” I demand. Her head raises. “I know you’re scared, but you should know that you will not be harmed in my care. I will inflict pain and punishment when necessary, but you will always be safe. Do you understand?”

  Looking into her eyes, I can see a certain innocence that I hadn’t noticed before. It must have been hard to see when I was balls deep in her on the couch. I don’t know what it is, but it makes me feel…something.

  “I understand,” she replies softly.

  “Excellent. Now pick your punishment,” I instruct her.

  “Wh-what?” She stutters as her nerves unravel.

  “Choose what tool I’m going to use to punish you with tonight,” I say, keeping my voice low but stern.

  “What? No! I don’t know anything about that stuff,” she says, further proving her innocence when it comes to anything taboo.

  “Consider this part of your education,” I tell her, pulling the first tool from the box. “This is a flogger. This is my favorite of all the tools because it is so versatile. Do you see these long strands? At first, they’ll be used for punishment. If you’re a good girl and learn your role, they can also be used for arousal, but we’re a long way away from any type of pleasure for you. This particular one is made of leather, but I also have one made from rubber, and another made of steel.” I say, gleaming at all of my goodies.

  “This second tool is one of my whips. I have several that I’ll use depending on how severe the punishment needs to be. This,” I say, holding it up, “is a snapper whip. It’s very small and looks like a toy. In fact, a lot of people assume that’s exactly what it is, but I assure you that mistake is not made more than once. It stings just as much, if not more, than the larger ones. I have a much larger one made from kangaroo leather, and, if you’re extremely defiant, I have one that’s electrified as well,” I smile, thinking of all the ways that I could torture her perfect flesh with it.

  “Next, we have the paddle,” I pull it out and place it on the bed. “This one has holes, which I love because there is no wind resistance when I swing it. The nice thing about a paddle is that the impact covers a larger area than the flogger and whip. When I spank that pretty little ass of yours, it will turn multiple shades of red. If you’re naughty, you’ll feel it for days after your punishment. I even have one that will leave the word slut on your skin until it heals, but that’s only if you’re a good girl,” I add, finally looking up at her.

  “These are your options today. Which one is it going to be?”

  “No, please! I don’t want any of those things used on me. I promise I won’t give you any trouble. Please, just don’t hurt me,” she pleads.

  “Refusing was not one of the options given to you. I need you to pick one or I’m going to have to pick one for you. I can assure you that you might not like my selection,” I smile sadistically because I already have something in mind.

  She’s staring at me with a deer in the headlights look. She is far out of her element with me.

  “Pretty girl,” I continue. “You’re going to be a tough one to crack, aren’t you? I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.”

  She has no idea what she’s in for. I’m going to handle her roughly while eating away at her sanity. I don’t want to drive her crazy, but I fully intend to find out what her limits are and push far past them. She needs this even though she doesn’t know it yet.

  “Stand up,” I tell her as I lock the door, confining us both into the room.

  Walking up to her, I put my arms around her and grab a fistful of hair, eliciting a gasp from her perfect little lips. I firmly grasp her hair near the scalp and use my other hand to grip her chin, lifting her face to ensure she is looking directly into my eyes.

  Before she has any clue what’s happening, she suddenly finds herself with her back pushed against the wall, and in one swift motion, I’ve got her hands pinned over her head. My hand is wrapped around her throat, firmly enough that she knows I have control, but not quite hard enough to cut off her air supply completely.

  “Are you ready for what’s about to happen?” I growl into her ear as I push my knee between her thighs.

  She’s shaking and unable to speak, but still gives me a nod, which is more than I was expecting so soon.

  “That’s a good girl,” I whisper as I grab her by the back of the neck and lead her to the other side of the room.

  It isn’t much of a movement, but I can feel her attempting to twist away ever so slightly. I told her that she will be learning her place, and I meant it. I tighten my grip and slam her back up against the wall.

  “This is not the time to try fighting me,” I tell her gruffly.

  “I’m sorry,” she replies.

  I allow her to take a deep breath before I go back to leading her across the room with my hand on the back of her neck, although my grip has become much tighter. I don’t give her a lot of time to think about what’s going to happen next.

  Chloe is shivering with what I’m sure is a mixture of nerves and anticipation. A part of me wonders if there’s not a little bit of excitement in there as well.

  Growing impatient, I begin to tug at her dress, roughly yanking it down her body. Shoving the palm of my hand against her chest, I firmly push her backward, sending her crashing down onto the couch behind her.

  Bending down until my eyes are directly in l
ine with hers, I sweep my hands under her and pull her dress off faster than she can even process what I did.

  She’s beginning to pant a bit, looking so good lying on the couch in nothing but her panties. She’s staring up at me as though she’s looking for direction, but I don’t think any words need to be exchanged at the moment. I speak to her with my eyes, and they are saying everything that needs to be said. It was time for her first test.

  “Take off your panties,” I demand, ready to see if she’s going to obey me and realize that if she submits to me, things will go much more smoothly for her.

  She’s frozen in place and doesn’t move. When she fails to do as I ordered, I wrap my hand around her throat once more.

  “Do as I ordered and do it right now,” I growl, looking directly into her eyes as though I’m trying to look straight into her soul.

  Trembling, she raises her hips up off the couch, grabs her panties at the waist, and slides them down her legs and off. I grab them from her hands and throw them into the corner. She isn’t going to be needing those for a while.

  It’s time for test number two. I want to know what her pain tolerance is. Flicking at her nipples until they’re nice and hard, I pinch them both at the same time. Little by little, I tighten my thumbs and forefingers until she lets out the gasp that I’m looking for. A bit more pain tolerance than I expected, but definitely nowhere near as much as she’s going to need. We’ll have to work on that. I’ve expected this to be enough to completely break someone like her, but I can sense that she still has some fight left in there somewhere.

  “Stand up,” I demand, snapping my fingers as I say it. It’s a little trick I picked up over the years. It works the same way as training a dog. They know that when the fingers snap, they need to listen.

  She stands up from the couch but still has her arms crossed over her chest. I’m not sure where the sudden modesty came from. I saw plenty of her tits earlier in the evening. I get the feeling that the need to cover up might be less about modesty and more about being defiant.