I needed to find something to keep my mind occupied. To keep myself from ripping my hair out at the thought of never going home to them.
I rolled to my side, trying desperately to find a way to relieve some of the pressure, but every movement excited nerves that I had never felt before.
I wondered if I could take it out, and replace it before Kirk came home, just to get some momentary relief. But there were two major problems. The first was that it took him a good deal of work to get it in and I didn’t think I was capable of repeating it on myself. And the second was that he could walk back in the door at any minute.
Or he could be gone for hours, but I doubted that, since it was already half past seven and we’d have to go to dinner sometime.
Find a way out, I reminded myself. I needed something besides the pressure in my ass to worry about. I pulled at both cuffs, attempting to slide my hand out, but they were too small to slide past the base of my thumb. I yanked at them, then the chain, looking for some kind of weakness. Even if I couldn’t exploit it now and get out of the room, I thought I could find something that might be of use later, but everything was solid. The cuffs although small, were strong, which left the lock, and I had the lock-picking skills of a tortoise.
I flopped onto my back and looked around the bare room. One vague picture hung on the wall, more like something that would be found in a hotel room rather than a man’s bedroom. The table nearest me held a lamp and alarm clock, the most interesting features to the room.
I slid the drawer open and found a stash of condoms. I rolled my eyes, given what I’d already seen, it wasn’t very surprising. Below the condoms was some kind of notebook, black with a plain cover. As tempting as it was, he probably had the condoms laid on top so he’d know if anyone was nosing around.
Sneaky bastards are like that, I thought.
Every way I rolled was just as uncomfortable as the last, so I rolled off the bed to my feet. The plug pressed uncomfortably in me and my stomach clenched. Ignoring the discomfort, I dragged my chain over the nightstand to look out the window.
Trees and grass. When I looked straight down, the height made me dizzy for a moment. I hated tall buildings. When I was on the ground, they always felt like they were crouching over me, trying to crush me with their massive presence. Being inside the large building wasn’t much different.
I concentrated on the rest of the view, but there wasn’t a single identifying characteristic I could find to narrow down my location. I rested my face against the warm glass. The sun was just beginning to set, and I could see the purple prequel to twilight creeping over the horizon. Kirk’s bedroom seemed to face Northeast, I knew that much, but it wasn’t enough to be helpful.
I stumbled back to the bed grateful that no one was around to see my bow-legged struggle. Lying down on my stomach, I hoped to alleviate the sensations. I let my arm hang off of the bed, following the chain down to where it connected—not with the bed—with a large hook fastened to the wall. I pulled and twisted at the hook, but couldn’t budge it barehanded.
It was becoming more and more apparent that every struggle and half-formulated plan was a waste of time and energy.
Exposed
The bedroom door slowly opened and I peeked over the blanket. I simultaneously wanted to lurch across the room to punch him in the face and hide under the bed.
“Want me to remove the plug now or after dinner,” he asked.
I stared back wondering what the hell I was supposed to say. Please, Master, I love it so much, let me keep it? I couldn’t believe people got off on this shit, although the ones who did were probably in very different situations.
Instead of being smart about the situation, my brain hopped to the crudest thing that popped up first. “I have to piss.”
Kirk rubbed a hand over his short hair. Then, he lowered his eyes to me in a dead stare. “Try again.”
My mouth refused to open. It was stupid and childish to push him, but I was too frustrated to be compliant.
“Fine,” he turned away, “I’m going to have my shower. If you piss my bed, I’ll take payment out of your ass when I get back.”
“Please,” I called after him. Thanks to detoxing from whatever Gabe and his gang had slipped me, I’d had so much water I couldn’t possibly hold it. Especially if he was on the other side of the wall with the shower running. My voice wavered. “Please, let me go to the bathroom.”
I hoped that would be enough, but he leaned against the door frame and waited.
So, I closed my eyes and added in a whisper, “Master.” As simple as the concession seemed, I felt something inside me whither a bit more.
He nodded and came back to me, “I guess that’ll do for now.” Pulling a key from his pocket, he freed my wrist. Then he helped me up and released my arm. I took a step, knowing it had to be too good to be true that he was letting me walk through the apartment on my own.
“Crawl,” he instructed.
I swallowed and turned back. His face was still stoic, eyebrows raised and daring me to argue. I was still seething from forcing the word “Master” out of my mouth just to be able to use the bathroom, but that was in no way going to be the end of the downgrading humiliation. “Is this how you get your jollies?”
“You’re going to become very familiar with how I get my jollies.” He stepped toward me and I dropped my gaze to the burgundy carpet—as if it could offer a solution.
It didn’t and neither did my screaming brain, so I dropped to my knees. I closed my eyes and put my hands on the floor, then crawled all the way to the toilet and stared it down. The last time I’d been eye-level with one, I’d caught swine flu from a coworker. And much like then, all I wanted to do was curl up next to it and rock myself into a peaceful oblivion.
When I reached the living room again, I felt the emotion surge up from my gut. Frozen in the middle of the living room floor, the anger and uncertainty choked me. I managed to keep quiet, hoping I was quiet enough that Kirk didn’t notice anything. After a few long shaky breaths, I calmed myself enough to sit back and rub away the tears. I blinked up at the light a few times, forcing back the remaining tears until I was composed enough to face my captor again. When I crawled back into the bedroom, Kirk was laying on the bed, his ankles crossed as he toyed with the chain.
All of the things he could do with that chain flashed through my mind—beating me with it stood out the most. I knew Gabe wouldn’t hesitate, but I still wasn’t sure about Kirk.
I hesitated near his feet and he dropped the chain. “Come up here.”
The only way to get onto the bed was over him, unless I took the small path of empty mattress below his feet, but that would have left me vulnerable to getting kicked, if he wasn’t particularly amused with my attempt to avoid him. So I moved closer, to where he patted the bed.
I stood, and he caught my leg as I lifted it onto the bed, positioning me so that I straddled his lap, my bare pussy against his jeans. The position pushed the butt plug up at a new angle and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from making a noise.
He put one hand on each of my thighs as he looked me over. “They did a number on you this morning,” he said with a sigh. My tired muscles absorbed the heat from his soft touches as he examined each injury, but when he reached for my face, I jerked back.
“Hate me all you want, Sugar,” he said, “I’m the only ally you have.”
“Ally…?” I whispered, “You’re going to hurt me.” I challenged him, hoping he’d argue. Even a small attempt at correcting me or proving me wrong.
“I am,” he replied, so quickly that it smashed what was left of my hope. He lifted me off of his lap and pushed me across the bed as he moved to stand behind me. “Ass up.”
I clutched the bed sheets as he pushed my face down into the mattress and manipulated me until I sat back on my heels. He pulled at the plug and I tensed. It was bad enough inside, but if coming out was as bad as going in, I’d rather it just stay where it was.
“Don’t tense. It doesn’t matter how you feel, the only thing you have control over is your body. Learn to make things easier—and less painful—on yourself.”
The plug gave with a sudden plop and he pulled it free, leaving me feeling awkward, used, and empty. What might have been a second of relief inspired new trepidation—no plug meant he was free to insert other things. Instead, he smacked my ass cheek and told me to roll over, chaining my wrist again.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes then we’ll get ready to go up to the Outlook. I trust that you can say quiet and obedient through dinner?”
“Yes, Master.” My stomach grumbled in response to the mention of dinner.
Ten minutes later, Kirk returned to the room with his hair still wet from the shower, and a towel draped around his waist. He opened the closet door and tossed the towel into the corner. I lowered my head, whether it was embarrassment or just stubbornness, I didn’t want to see his naked form.
At least that’s what I told myself.
Curiosity got the better of me and my gaze wandered up his body. Another snake tattoo decorated his leg, running from his ankle up to his knee. The tribal tattoo on his left shoulder extended around, touching his shoulder blade. Not a bit of him wasn’t sculpted and toned. His back muscles contracted as he slid into a black short-sleeve button down shirt, then I got a full-frontal view as he threw a pair of black jeans onto the bed.
“You’re blushing, Sugar,” he teased as he slid on a pair of boxers then yanked on the jeans. “What am I going to do with a slave as red as a beet?”
I looked down at my hands, keeping my jaw clenched shut.
Kirk huffed and walked out to the living room, returning a few seconds later with a bundle of red material. He unlocked my wrist cuff and pulled me to my feet. “I assume you can dress yourself.”
I grabbed the pile of red fabric and turned my back to him. Nothing more than lingerie—a lacy bandeau top with a matching skirt. It barely came to the bottom of my butt cheeks, and it did nothing to hide any of my bruises. A mesh overlay hung to the front of the skirt, designed to be pulled up and laced around my neck with a choker of silk ribbon. I pulled my hair and twisted it so it stayed on my shoulder while Kirk tied the choker.
Kirk studied me for a second—looking at me more like he was examining some specimen in a zoo, than a girl in lingerie—then jerked his head to the door. “Bathroom.”
I took a step, and he cleared his throat. My stomach twisted as I looked over my shoulder.
“Until further notice, you crawl.”
I wasn’t sure how long I could tolerate the feeling that I meant absolutely nothing.
I dropped to my hands and knees and shuffled to the bathroom. I was going to have a bitch case of carpet burn soon, and that wouldn’t be the worst of it—my clothing wouldn’t cover much of anything if I had to crawl through the hallways.
At the bathroom counter, he pulled me to my feet by my silver collar and handed me a comb and a bag of cosmetics.
“We’ll probably have to round up some stuff that matches your skin tone, but this will do for tonight.”
I glanced wide eyed at the bag of makeup. I could barely apply eyeliner on a good day without looking like I had drunk five too many cups of coffee. And that was the pinnacle of my makeup skills.
I dragged the comb through my hair then applied a light foundation and red lipstick that almost matched my dress. I sorted through the eye shadows and eye liners.
“Look, I really have no idea what I’m doing here,” I sighed.
Kirk handed me the black eyeliner, and I traced my eyes as best I could. It was still jagged and uneven.
He lifted my chin. “You’re going to have to work on that, but you’re lucky the room will be dark. Let’s go.”
With a leash attached to my collar and me crawling like an animal on my hands and knees, he led me to the elevator and up to the twelfth floor. As soon as the doors opened, it looked like we were in the middle of a millionaire’s nightclub. There was glass all around, even in the floors and ceiling. Men and women dotted the room—many of the women kneeling on the floor, or serving food and drinks to others.
There was no violence, no commotion. The slaves tended to follow their men around, and either sit at their feet or crawl into their laps—generally looking content.
Their contentment nauseated me. I wanted to run up to all of them and shake them until they saw what was happening.
Kirk jerked my leash, and I realized that I’d stopped in the center of the room. I pushed myself forward, following him to a center room that was encased in glass. Above, the moonlight shined through the glass ceiling, and below, sections of the floor had been replaced with glass, overlooking the sex scenes below.
My stomach clenched, and I must have jerked the chain, because Kirk pulled it up and glared at me. He took a seat and pointed to a spot near his feet. “Sit.”
I did, keeping my head down so he wouldn’t see my glare while he unfastened the leash and draped it over the back of his chair.
“I’m surprised you’ve made such fast progress, Kirk.” Suit said as he took a seat at the head of the table with a trio of women around his feet.
I clenched my teeth—the anger flowing through my nerves created the sensation that I could rip out of my own skin at any moment.
Two more men entered and sat across from Kirk, followed by the same dark-skinned man who’d joined forces with Kirk in the hallway and a blond-haired slave at his feet. When he sat, the girl immediately sat on her heels before him.
Another wave of nausea rolled my stomach, almost choking me. I felt off balance and disconnected from myself, like my body had been taken over by some distant instinct. Only survival mattered, not the revenge or escape that swirled in my brain.
Kirk tapped my temple and pointed to the floor in front of me, reminding me that I was supposed to keep my gaze on the floor in front of me. Now I was reduced to something only worthy of crude hand gesture.
I am not a damn object to just sit at your feet and obey! But, instead of speaking my thoughts, I dropped my gaze, knowing that if I screwed up in front of all of those people, I was done.
“Finally found a girl worthy of your feet?” A brassy tenor voice said from behind me.
“She was unintentionally acquired.”
I couldn’t believe how many times I could be reminded of that in a single day. I had a “Master” who didn’t even want me, and I couldn’t help but wonder why he even bothered. It would have been easier for him to shove me off and let me be someone else’s responsibility.
Except that wouldn’t be as effective in pissing off Gabe, and I suspected that was his main goal.
I heard the men behind me snicker. “Do you think Ross just keeps him around because he talks like a damned professor?”
I peeked up and saw Suit smile, I assumed he was Ross. He touched the heads of two of the slaves at his feet and pointed to the two lone men behind me.
I tried to take in as much as I could without being obvious, hoping to find some clue or weakness that would help me escape, but all it did was serve to show me that there were even more people around than I had imagined—and every one of the men would probably bring me right back if I dared to run. And, they’d eagerly stand in line to beat me if I messed up.
Kirk nudged me with his foot and I stilled, returning my gaze to the floor. Even that wasn’t helpful since there was a glass square a few feet away overlooking a room where two men shared a curvy redhead.
I couldn’t do that—I couldn’t do this.
Hard as I tried to fight it, my pulse spiked and my body shook with equal parts anger and fear.
Above me, a conversation continued between the men, as casual as a family getting together over pork chops. My chest clenched as I wondered what they’d do when they noticed my anxiety. Then came another flash of anger at their disinterest in any of us. We were there to do their bidding—whether it was kneeling at their feet and being completely
ignored or putting on a show. Like a toy set up with limited functions. Perform on cue, but wait on the shelf until someone tells you to do otherwise.
Two women in black leather bikinis served platters of food to each of the men at the table. I felt my stomach rumble in response to their neglect. As if it wasn’t bad enough that none of the men cared, not even the other slaves seemed to acknowledge each other’s existence. Above, the men began cutting into something that smelled like steak—apparently Kirk had been correct—and my mouth watered.
“Is the new girl going to perform for her dinner?” One of the men behind me asked.
I lowered my head even more, so that my hair fell around my head and hid my glower. And, I hoped, my fear.
“Not tonight,” Kirk said, “It’s her first day, and she’s still working on the basics.”
I had half a mind to show him basics. If he wanted to treat me like a dog, I could growl and bite his finger off.
Instead, I dug my nails into my palms, momentarily taking my mind off of everyone else.
“Yes,” Ross drawled, “first day and already causing a fair share of trouble, no less. You better train her to be worth it.”
As I tried to calm the ball of tension in my gut, the conversation turned to business. I tried to latch on to what they were saying, hoping for a small nugget to help me figure out exactly where I had ended up, but it was either too vague or specific for an outsider to understand much of anything.
I learned that the men across from Kirk were brothers, Taylor and Demetri, and the dark-skinned man—the damn oaf who had helped Kirk torment me in the hallway—was Miles. He was also apparently second in command. Kirk seemed to be more of a PR intelligence man—the brains behind the twisted boss and his grimy brawn.
Lucky me. I’d been claimed by the voice of reason within their fucked up world.
From what I could tell, the operation really was close to the self-sustaining hive as I’d guessed, but like all criminals, there was more power and money to be gained, and that required making deals. They probably had hands in the pocket of every politician, big business, and otherwise influential person in the area, which explained why the authorities weren’t rolling down on the operation yet.
Irrevocable: A Sins of Ashville Abduction Dark Romance (Irrevocable Duet Book 1) Page 5