Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders)

by Robin Renee Ray,

  “I see you didn’t have a problem getting her to clean up,” Annabel said walking into the room, coming straight at me to do her little inspection.

  “You need to teach them some manners. They are almost as bad as Enrique,” I said, sending them a little wink when I was sure Annabel wouldn’t see.

  “They learned a long time ago to do as they are told,” she said, turning to them. “You have done well. Your Mistress will be pleased. Go now, I’ll take her from here.”

  “Yes, my lady,” they said simultaneously, and immediately left the room.

  Annabel walked over to the wall, and took down a large curved blade. She ran a finger along the sharp edge, not looking at me. “You’re going to be on your best behavior tonight, and you will do exactly what Senor Huerta tells you. He has contributed a lot of money to our little business, and we wish to keep it that way.” I just stared at her silently. When I didn’t answer, she walked over to me, blade in hand. She put her face very close to mine, and said lowly, “I know you heard me, so now hear this. If you don’t do as I say, you’ll beg me for death before this night is over.” She then grabbed me by the arm, and pushed me out the door.

  As we approached the steps, I realized I would be leaving the underground area for the first time since they put me here. Annabel pulled me up the stairs, and waiting for us at the top was none other than Enrique.

  “I think your services will not be needed tonight, Enrique,” she said, grabbing me by the hair and yanking me backwards, bending my head so far back that I dropped down to one knee to keep from hitting the floor. “We won’t need him, will we slave?”

  “No ma’am,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

  “What?” she asked mockingly. “I didn’t hear you? Did you hear her, Enrique?”

  “I didn’t hear shit,” he replied with a sneer.

  “Well?” she spat, yanking back a little harder.

  “No Ma’am,” I screamed. “We won’t need him.”

  She released my head, and patted the top of it like I was an obedient dog. “Now that is much better dear.” She handed the blade to Enrique and helped me to my feet. “Come now, let’s get you changed,” she said, smoothing out my hair in an eerily loving manner. “Your master is waiting.” A smile crept across her face, and she and Enrique began to laugh. I failed to see the humor in the comment, but that was becoming a not so unusual occurrence nowadays.

  “You enjoy yourself,” Enrique said as he walked away. “He has lots of toys to play with.”

  Crazy bastard, I thought to myself.

  Annabel took me up another flight of stairs, the same ones that led to my room on the night of my arrival. This time, however, we bypassed the first room, walking all the way to the back. She opened the door at the end of the hall and pushed me inside.

  “You’ll change in here. And brush that ratty hair before I cut it off,” she demanded, picking up a brush off the table by the door and shoving it in my hand.

  “I wish you would. I hate it,” I said, knowing she would do the exact opposite of what I wanted.

  “Well, tough, you’re stuck with it.” She walked over to a dresser in the room, and took out a white gown. “Put this on when you're finished.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said compliantly. Annabel flashed me a look of surprise, and I could tell she was trying to figure out if I was being a smart-ass or if I was serious.

  “I knew you would be easy to break,” she said, using the insult as bait. “We will have you sold in no time.” When I didn’t respond, she seemed a little more convinced that I might be was sincere. “Very good, now get to it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said again.

  “I’ll be back for you in a few minutes,” she said, leaving the room.

  I did as I was told. I brushed my hair, then dropped the robe and pulled on the gown, all the while thinking of ways to escape. I looked around the room for possible weapons, but found only the hairbrush. That won’t do any good, I thought to myself. I then noticed the window on the other side of the room, and ran to it. I threw back the curtain, and just like the first room, this window was bricked in as well.

  “Damn,” I said under my breath.

  I heard the door knob start to turn, so I rushed back to the spot Annabel had left me. I was breathing heavily, but I tried to control it as best I could, while smoothing down my hair to make it look like I hadn’t moved. Annabel entered the room, and walked toward me. As she came closer, she looked at me and furrowed her brow.

  “What have you been up to? You’re out of breath,” she said, glancing around the room, but seeing nothing was out of place.

  “I'm just nervous, ma’am, that’s all,” I said quickly.

  “Very well… He’s ready for you. Remember what I said.” I don’t think she fully believed me but she let it go.

  “Yes ma’am, every word.” I was trying my best to play this off, and evidently I was doing a pretty good job. She was honestly starting to believe my change. She pulled my hair back from my face, straightened my gown, and stepped back to look me over.

  “Very nice,” she said. “The Mistress will be pleased to know that Martin’s little whore has finally come around.”

  That almost made me lose it, because I wanted to spit in her face, but I knew if I was to have any chance of getting out of here, I had to stay composed. Annabel led me out of the room into a smaller hall that broke off of the main one. We passed four doors before we stopped. She gave me the once over again, pulling my gown down over one shoulder, placing my hair behind one ear, and even slapping my cheeks lightly, before she turned and knocked on the door.

  “Come,” was all I heard. She opened the door, and we walked inside.

  “Good evening, Senor Huerta. I hope your wait has not been too long.”

  It was true. Before me was the same fat son-of-a-bitch that grabbed my breast. He sat in a large, throne-like chair, flanked by two large men, wearing nothing but a piece of cloth over their neither regions. To his left, there was an elaborately adorned bed, and to his right, a wall with the same oddly shaped weapons.

  “You may leave her to us, Lady Annabel,” he said.

  “As you wish, sir,” she said with a small bow of her head. Before she left, she shot me a 'you better not mess this up or else' kind of look. When she was gone, the two large men stepped up beside me, and although neither one touched me, it was very intimidating.

  “Are you hungry?” asked Mr. Huerta. “Have you fed?”

  “Yes sir, they made sure I was fed well last night.” Just thinking about my meal made me cringe.

  “Wonderful,” he said as he stood. “Would you like the bed, or would you rather be placed against the wall?”

  “E-excuse me?” I stammered, my heart starting to pound. “I don’t think I understand.”

  “You are a very beautiful woman,” he said, pulling his overweight self out of the chair and waddling up to me. He reached out to touch me, but pulled his hand back. “Now, you’re going to be a good girl this time, aren’t you?”

  I only nodded. He reached out again, and rubbed my breast. I turned my head and closed my eyes in disgust. I couldn’t stand to feel him touch me.

  “You are very soft,” he said sensually. “I think I want you on the bed. Boys, tie her down, face up.” He put his hand under my chin and lifted my eyes to his. “I want to see the look on her face when I get started.” Then both men took an arm, and I couldn’t help but panic.

  “Don’t worry dear,” Mr. Huerta said softly. “I’ll be easy on you. I hear you’re pure. I respect that, I haven’t had a virgin in a long time.”

  The men lifted me off the floor, and that's when I began struggling harder. They laid me on the bed, one having to hold me down while the other tied my hands to the restraints waiting securely on each bedpost. When I realized that struggling was no use, I tried to bargain.

  “Is this necessary? I promise to be good... I’ll do whatever you say.”

  “Now, what fun wo
uld that be?” Mr. Huerta said, raising his eyebrow. “Besides, after the punch you gave me, I just can’t take any chances.”

  “No, I’ve learned my lesson. Please, Mr. Huerta, I won’t disobey, I promise.”

  The men started on my legs, tying them spread eagle, binding each one to the post at the foot of the bed, right above my ankles. I was completely mortified, I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine what was about to happen when the two were finished securing me. I had never even been seen by a man in such a manner, much less put in a situation where they could touch me at will.

  The fat man that wore clothes that I had only seen in the history books at school, like King Henry, the one that cut off the heads of his wives. He now had his back to me, standing where for the first time I noticed a phonograph sitting on the table in front of him.

  “Let’s set the mood, shall we?” he added turning it on, ignoring my plea. I heard soft classical music start to play, and though in a normal situation, it would have been soothing, its presence only added to my anxiety. He, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it immensely. He began waving his hands slowly through the air as if conducting, closing his eyes. “Music always helps me focus.” Opening them only to gaze over at me, the look in his eyes made me so uncomfortable I had to look away. He peered at me as if we were long-time lovers, soul-mates, with nothing on this earth being farther from the truth.

  He walked over to the bed holding a wooden box, he placed it in the one place that I hoped he wouldn't, right between my legs. He rubbed his hands together with what I saw to be great anticipation, much like a child waiting to open a Christmas gift. Then, with the help of the bedpost, pulled his heavy weight up of the foot of the bed.

  “Do they have to be in the room?” I asked, referring to the other men, straining to pull my knees together. “I can’t do this with them watching.” Truthfully, absolutely nothing could have helped me do this, but I knew any fighting chance that I had of escaping this situation, would be easily stomped out by those two big lugs watching his every move. At this point, I was willing to say anything to get him to make them leave.

  “Believe me, they have no interest in you,” he said. “Or, any other woman for that matter.”

  “But... I have never done anything like this before. Please make them leave. Where can I go? What could I possibly do? You have me tied down, there’s no way I can get out of this,” I pleaded and could tell by his expression that he was seriously considering what I said, so I continued. “Please? I want my first time to be just you and me. Besides, I know for sure that a man as strong as you are could surely handle a little woman.” I bat my eyes, pleading that he would see things more my way, than his own.

  After a few minutes of consideration, he gave in and told the other two, to leave the room.

  “Thank you,” I said, pouring as much forged gratitude into my voice as possible. “You're a very kind man.” Yeah, right. If you believe that, you really are as stupid as you are fat, I thought to myself. Still hoping on the slightest chance that he would have a weak spot and see that what he was doing was wrong, knowing that if I believed that, I was as stupid as the man who was about to do unthinkable things to me.

  As he was looking down to open the box, I carefully tested the ropes holding my limbs, pulling first with my arms, then my legs. The ropes were tight, but I was sure I felt my left leg give, even if it was just a little. The door closed behind the men and the little box fell open, and he peered into it with gleaming excitement. As he started moving things around inside with one hand, the other started to caress my leg. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose as soon as his hand reached the top of my knee and started sliding toward my thigh.

  “I see you used the bath items I sent you,” he said gladly, his hand inching closer to my privates.

  “Yes,” I said hastily. “That was very nice of you.”

  My mind was spinning in ten different directions. I kept tugging on the ropes, hoping that they would fail. Mr. Huerta leaned back a little, still touching my leg, and stared down at me. He shook his head disapprovingly, and said, “This gown just will not do.”

  He removed his hand from my leg and reached into the box. He pulled out a large pair of scissors, and began cutting my gown up the middle, starting at the bottom. The closer he got to my most private area, the more nervous and scared I became.

  “Wait,” I said, trying my best to scoot up on the bed, away from the quickly progressing scissors. “Can’t we just talk? You know, get to know each other a little, first?”

  He kept cutting, and said without looking up, “I didn’t pay the outrageous amount of money they charged to just talk. Surely you knew this is what I wanted.” As he cut the gown far enough up to expose me, I began to cry. He paid no mind, humming to the music as he stood up and walked around the bed to my side. From there, he finished cutting open my gown, a job his large paunch wouldn’t let him finish from the end of the bed.

  “Ah,” he sighed, as he spread apart the ruined garment to expose my entire front side. “That’s much better.”

  This was the worst thing I had been put through yet. The pain had been unbearable, but never once had a man laid eyes on—much less touched—my nude body, and the advantage this man was taking of me was unfathomable. I began to panic as he stroked my bare breast. My breathing was becoming erratic, and I began turning my head side to side, praying for a way out of this.

  “Ooh,” he cooed down at me, interpreting my movement as pleasure. “Like that, do we?” He rubbed his hand down to my belly, gave it a little pat and said, “Well, shall we get started, my little pet?”

  “Please, don’t do this,” I cried out, lifting my head off of the bed toward him. “I'm begging you, please?”

  “Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured me. “I will be as gentle as possible. You have a very beautiful body, and I can make you feel as good as you look.”

  I started tugging on the ropes as hard as I could, my wrists and ankles burning from the friction.

  “Now, if you fight, I can also make this the worst pain your little mind can imagine, love,” he said.

  He walked back to the end of the bed and started taking objects out of the box, laying them on the bed between my legs. Most of them were metal and phallic, while others looked like medieval torture devices. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what he planned to do with them. When he was finished, he crawled up onto the end of the bed with one of the long oval objects in his hand, and after settling himself, began to rub my inner thigh with his free hand. He moaned softly as he approached my most private area, clearly enjoying himself.

  “NO,” I screamed, yanking both legs up as hard as possible. He didn’t even seem to notice as the rope holding my left leg snapped.

  I was crying so hard as he tried to put his fingers inside me, that I could hardly see past the tears. I could tell from his perseverance that he was oblivious to the broken ligature. I screamed again, and before he could succeed, pulled my leg up past his head, and kicked the fat perverted bastard backwards. It wasn’t enough to knock him down, but he stopped dead in his tracks, looking at me with a disbelief written across his round face. His hands flew to his face as I struck a second time, not giving him a chance to call out for help. He was nowhere near fast enough to block my kick, and my foot landed right across the bridge of his nose. His head jerked back, and blood gushed. He held his face, still too much in shock to retaliate. When I made the third contact, missing his face altogether, but hitting his throat so hard he began to choke and gasp for air.

  I continued to flail, yanking continually, feeling the ropes that were binding my hands give more than I could have hoped for, because my hands were almost free. I yanked downward with all my might, and my right hand came loose. Frantically, I clawed at my remaining trapped hand, desperately trying to free it, before the man lying across the leg that was still tied regained consciousness. His weight was making the pressure on my ankle feel like I
was going to lose my foot, but I knew I had to hurry before he was able to roll his round self, off the bed, and call out for his two monstrous guards.

  Many of my unfocused kicks were still making contact, as he started groaning, trying to call to his men. I quickly reached down and grabbed one of the oblong metal objects that he had placed on the bed and hit him in the head, over and over, until he fell over unconscious, pinning my right leg even more firmly underneath his heavy body.

  I went back to my hand, pulling and struggling until it finally came free. When I was done, my wrist was a bloody, throbbing mess, but that was nothing compared to the nightmare I would have undergone had I remained restrained. My modesty still in check, I pulled the gown together as best I could as I sat up. I tried to pull on my leg that was underneath the enormous man, but it wouldn’t budge, even when I pushed with my free leg. I hadn’t gotten this far just to be trapped now by some demented pervert’s unlucky landing. I thought back to the events that had just happened, and the flood of emotions the fear, the hate, the humility. It provided me with enough strength for one final shove, flopping Mr. Huerta’s limp body off my leg and onto the mattress.

  Without delay, I untied my last trapped limb and stood. I looked frantically around the room, not sure what I should do next. One thing for certain, I wanted to make sure this sick son-of-a-bitch never touched me, or any other woman, ever again. My eyes came to rest on his wooden toy box. I picked it up, raising it as high above my head as my arms would reach.

  “You never touch a lady there, you bastard,” I spit in his face, before slamming the heavy box into his skull.

  I smashed the box into his head, again and again, releasing my rage, and doing my best to kill him, and not stopping in my efforts until I saw blood pour from his face. Now’s your chance, I thought to myself. Whatever you’re going to do, you better do it quick before anyone comes. From the look of the damage I had done to the pervert, I wasn’t sure he would be waking up at all, hoping he never would.