by Trent Evans
For long seconds I stared down at the envelope, the low light of the chamber bleeding the color from the paper.
“Last chance, Quinton.” Anna stood. “You don’t open that in the next two seconds, I’ll consider that your answer.”
I lifted my gaze to hers. “Guess you have it then.”
Anna’s head tilted, and she regarded me for a moment.
“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here,” Darynn hissed, her fingers already working at my manacles. “He’s a stubborn asshole, I’ll give him that.”
I was freed in seconds, the hum of the winch overhead pulling the dangling chains and straps out of sight.
“Think about it while you wait,” Anna said.
“Think about what?” I didn’t really care, but I wanted her to give me something. If I talked, she might slip up, might betray something, anything, about her plans.
“Think about how things might have gone if you’d opened that envelope.” Anna stooped, snatching it up, then strode into the gloom. A steel bucket was slammed down upon the concrete, the grating sound making me flinch.
Darynn followed Anna out, looking over her shoulder at me just as the inky black swallowed her up.
She was grinning.
Chapter 8
The welts across my back were tight, throbbing with the beat of my heart. My ass was almost numb now as I’d decided to sit down, the cold, hard concrete at least dulling the hot aching aftermath left by that crop. The realization of just how much pain I’d endured had me rethinking my previous assumptions. Perhaps I had been a little cruel — a time or two anyway.
Anna would never, ever, know that, of course, but I couldn’t deny that the possibility existed that I’d screwed up.
I stared at the dented metal bucket, my bladder screaming at me. As far as I could tell I was alone — wherever I was. But that wasn’t what galled me the most. It was being forced to contemplate using that container, like a prisoner, an animal.
What do you think you are now?
The darkness had gone far beyond disorienting. It seemed to crowd around me, its slender, icy fingers reaching into my body, sapping me of will, of hope.
One thing kept me going though. It was the game. Whatever she was up to, no matter how much pain I had to go through — and it was now clear that that might be more than I’d ever imagined — I wanted to find out what it was, what she really wanted.
What was her game?
How far are you willing to go to find out? Until death?
I’d considered that chilling possibility earlier, and discounted it. Now? I wasn’t so sure. I hadn’t been gone long enough — I thought — to really arouse any concern yet, despite my previous threats. I had zero idea where I was. How long had I been out? I could be anywhere in North America, for all I knew.
Scanning around me again, I cursed, the shaft of light both a mercy and an infuriating impediment. It was ironic that the bright illumination fatally degraded my ability to make out much beyond it. All I had were impressions of shapes, perhaps walls. The air was, as always, dead still, something that suggested a room that couldn’t have been too large. Perhaps it was a cell after all? Did that matter?
The fact was they had me, trapped like a rat. Helpless. I hated that more than the pain, more than the humiliation presented by that bucket, more even than the way my two captors treated me as if I was nothing but a penned-in beast.
Every sound, no matter how faint, echoed in my head. I knew it was the first effects of sensory deprivation. I’d experienced it in the kidnap survival class. But that had lasted only a few minutes, in a controlled environment, more an academic, investigative exercise than anything else.
This was nothing of the sort. What might happen to me if I continued to be deprived of sound, with nothing but the shuffling of my bare feet, the beat of my heart, and the increasingly stressed tones of my own murmured voice?
This is part of it. This is the bullshit she wants you to think about, asshole.
It was the truth, and there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it. The gloom, the silence, the isolation — all of them were already working upon me. While the stress of them was only a hint at that moment, they promised something far more harrowing if I didn’t fight them.
I thought of my options, of ways I might get out, of scenarios for escape for a naked, disoriented man who had zero information regarding any of his surroundings—
“Goddammit, Quinton,” I hissed, impotent rage filling me again. “Fucking stop this shit. You’re playing their game. Grow some balls, for Christ’s sake!”
I could wait no longer, so I stood, my muscles protesting, the tracery of welts like a hot net draped down my back. I reached automatically for the fly of pants I was no longer allowed. The noise was deafening in the still room as I voided my bladder. Had they picked the metal bucket for precisely that effect? My face heated as I pissed, and I realized I was hunched over, as if doing something bad, forbidden. The quiet humiliation of it sent a tiny shudder down my spine.
Fortunately, no doors had opened, no barely suppressed laughter had echoed across the room, as I did it. It was just me — and my bucket. Finished, I slid it away from the shaft of light, the metal screeching on the concrete. I wanted it out of my sight, the visual reminder banished from my awareness, if not my memory.
I walked toward the wall opposite the door, my arms extended before me, my genitals swinging unencumbered in a way that somehow felt alien, and only further amplified my vulnerability.
My fingers touched the cool wall. Concrete.
It was a cell.
“Fuck.”
Spinning around, I pressed my back to the smooth surface, then sat down, hugging my folded knees, for the first time feeling truly lost.
I dropped my forehead against my folded arms, cursing into the silence. I closed my eyes despite the darkness, not knowing if I’d ever see the outside world again.
* * *
The kick of a boot against my feet roused me from a fitful, chilly slumber.
“Get up.” It was the blonde. The venom in her voice was as distinctive as a scent. “Let’s see if you still want to play the tough guy.”
I got to my feet, my bones creaking, my skin breaking out in gooseflesh. My stomach growled angrily.
“How… long? What time is it?”
“Long enough.” She shoved my shoulder. “Get into the light, and kneel down.”
“I think I’ll stand.”
I knew I’d pay for it. A cold night in a cell wasn’t going to break me though.
Strong fingers closed around my wrist, a palm pressed to the back of my elbow. My left arm was suddenly twisted behind me, my hand forced up toward the heavens, the sharp pain in my shoulder driving me down to my knees, my bowed head bathed in the bright shaft of light. “I think you’ll do what we tell you to do.”
“We?” She let go of my arm, and I flexed it back and forth, hoping it was still whole. “You going nuts, lady? Just you and me—”
“Shut your mouth, Quinton,” Anna said from somewhere in the blackness. “You obey her as you would me. As you want to obey me.”
The word sent a strange frisson through me, but I shook it off. She had a preternatural way of setting me off balance.
Damn her.
“The only thing I want is to get the hell out of here,” I croaked, looking up at where I thought she might be. “But I’ll settle for a doughnut and some coffee.”
“Keep your eyes down. I’ll tell you when you can look at me.” Anna’s voice was almost tender as she said it.
I chuckled, sneering into the darkness. “What are you afraid I’ll see? Your face? I’ve got it memorized, so I guess you’re out of luck.”
“Already thinking about who holds you.” There was amusement in the soft tone of the words. “That’s progress.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, honey.”
I cried out as a line of fire emblazoned itself across my back. I clenched my sore buttocks, fe
aring they’d be next, hoping they were mostly protected in my kneeling position.
Anna’s voice grew cool. “You’d be smart to watch that mouth.”
“Not too swift, is he?” the blonde said, laughing, the sound of her mirth like fingernails down a chalkboard.
“You call me anything but Anna, and you’re going to pay for it, Quinton. Soon, I won’t even allow you that much.”
“What am I supposed to call you then?” I could think of a few choice titles, but the hot, throbbing line lacing my back convinced me to keep them to myself.
Anna’s warm breath played across my cheek. “Ma’am, for starters. But I think you’re the sort who’ll need more than that, something deeper…”
I didn’t want to think about what she meant by that. “Hell will freeze over before I call you ‘Ma’am.’”
Anna tapped the crop against my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but tense. “Then it’s about to get cold.”
She walked around me, her form just outside the shaft of bright light, as if a predator stalking around the perimeter of a primeval campfire. “You have a choice. Unlike how you’ve treated others, with me, you will always have a choice.”
The manila envelope slapped against the concrete at my knees, cool air rushing over my naked flesh.
“You dropped something.”
“Open it.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
I looked at it, then back up at her, clenching my jaw.
“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Darynn hissed behind me. “Just look at it.”
“Choice,” Anna said, pacing in front of me, the black flapper of the crop trailing back and forth over the envelope. “Look at what’s inside. You’re already wondering what it is, what I have on you. Isn’t that right?”
“I don’t care—”
“That’s a rhetorical question. You remember about talking only when given leave, yes? You’ll be quiet now. I’m speaking to you.” Anna’s luminous eyes were the only part of her face I could make out in the shadow. “I give you a choice, even though you don’t deserve one. You’ll always have a choice here. No matter what it is, no matter how painful, no matter how terrible. Choice, Quinton.” She stilled. “Now. Open the envelope.”
Just do it, dipshit. Let her have this. She thinks this is some sort of game, a mindfuck. This isn’t your first rodeo. Give her a little rope.
“You say I’ll always have a choice, right? What happens if I choose not to open it?”
Anna’s eyes flashed. “Then that’s disobedience. That’s punished here, swiftly, each and every time. You’ll learn that it’s much easier to do as you’re told.”
I shrugged, my heart beating even faster. “Doesn’t sound like much of a choice to me.”
“A Hobson’s choice, I suppose.” The crop waved before me. “But a choice, nonetheless, stubborn man.”
“And if I do open it?”
I still hadn’t decided if that was even a real possibility. The seconds stretched before me at that moment, presenting a myriad of paths, each one darker than the last.
“Then you’ll please me. You’ll also find that it’s easier to do what pleases me. In time, you’ll crave nothing else. But it will never be easy.” She tilted her head, pursing her lips. “Nothing will ever be easy for you.”
“Not so hard then.” What did I care? She could get her little ego trip at my expense, if it got me out of there.
“Remember, Quinton. Never easy.”
Darynn’s soft laughter rolled over him. “He has no idea, does he?”
“No idea about what?” I looked back over my shoulder. A hand cracked across my cheek, and I recoiled, cursing under my breath, hot pain flooding the side of my face.
“Keep your fucking face forward,” Darynn barked. “I’d give you plenty more where that came from, but she won’t let me.”
Shocked, I looked up at Anna. Her expression was serene, as neutral and impassive as a mountainside. But I saw no denial in her eyes.
Why?
Darynn stepped around me then, and laid a long case upon the floor next to the envelope. The black leather cover gleamed under the narrow shaft of sunlight.
“Pleasing me won’t always be enough,” Anna murmured. “Never easy. Never.”
Darynn opened the case then, and moved back behind me. I looked down at it, my mouth going dry, my balls tightening in fear.
Inside the case was an entire array of phalluses and plugs. Some were clear glass, others a jet color blacker than any midnight. The sizes ranged from respectable to immense. My ass tightened reflexively.
It’s a bluff, you idiot. Trying to rattle you, that’s all. You know this is going to come back to money. Everything always does.
Did I really believe that was all though? A part of me — one I was only dimly aware of — feared. I wondered again just how deep in it I might be at that moment.
Swallowing, I pulled my gaze from the terrifying implication of the contents of that case. It might not ever be easy for me — but I could make sure I returned the favor in kind.
I could almost feel her grin above me as I reached for the envelope, slipping the clasp. I held it up, meeting her gaze. “Bottoms up.”
“Amazing how many meanings that particular turn of phrase has,” Anna said.
I turned it over then, and thick, glossy sheets of white paper spilled out, spreading across the concrete. Only they weren’t just paper.
Oh, fuck.
Suddenly, the contents of the opened case paled to insignificance, as I realized what had fallen from the envelope.
They were photographs. And the subject was one I knew well indeed.
Instinctively, I shuffled backward, my feet twisting awkwardly underneath me. Darynn’s hands slammed down on my shoulders, her knees jammed against my upper back. “You’re not going anywhere, hotshot.”
The woman in the photographs was one I thought I’d never see again. She’d been one of the sluts I’d picked up at auction. She’d been amusing, but I’d grown tired of her inexperience. Big, bouncy tits, and a soft, round ass only got a girl so far. I’d always needed more, demanded more. I’d deserved it.
I’d resolved to get rid of the girl before my attempt at taking Breanna from Kurt’s farm. That night had been an unmitigated disaster, the girl taken from me against my will — along with everything else.
The girl’s name was Genna.
Chapter 9
There was no way in hell I was even going to acknowledge those photos. I couldn’t. But like a witness to a crime, I knew instinctively that once I’d seen them, there was no going back. They were something that could never be unseen.
“You might as well… burn those. I don’t even know why you’re showing them to me.”
Anna crouched down in front of me, perfectly at ease. Her eyes held a strange light as she plucked one of the photographs from the floor. She held it up before me. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it, no matter the dread beginning to sink deep and heavy in my belly.
It was a close-up of the livid purple marks left upon Genna’s ass. Bleeding wheals. I remembered meting them out. I remembered how hard my cock was as I heard her scream, as I watched the welts swell.
The memory elicited anything but arousal now.
Somewhere deep inside a part of me knew — even then — that I was going too far with it.
As usual, I’d ignored that small, quiet voice.
“This, Quinton. This is why you’re here.” She craned her head around to look at the photo. “Nice pattern there. I’ll do better though.” She fixed her gaze upon me once more, and I swallowed down the growing lump in my throat. “I haven’t decided yet if I’ll go all the way to the blood though. I suppose that depends upon how well I think you’re cooperating.”
“You wouldn’t do it.” My voice was little more than a croak, my eyes unerringly drawn to the graphic display of suffering.
“I don’t think you have any idea what I’ll do.” Her smile was as cold
as a January breeze. “And that’s got you scared shitless.”
“What the hell do you want from me? To tell you I was wrong?”
I knew she wanted to hear it. Perhaps if I said it, it would placate her. It was worth it, if it would buy time.
“Admitting you were wrong is only the very beginning of what I want, boy. But it’s a good start.”
“Okay… maybe I… went too far. With her.” I shrugged, hoping to convey sincerity to her. “I didn’t have good control with the cane yet. If I’d—”
“Control?” Anna stood, and flipped the photo at me with a flick of her wrist. The corner of the paper speared my chin with a slight sting, then the evidence of my punishment of Genna fell across my thighs. “You’re really going to tell me you beat that poor girl’s ass to the blood because you were, what? A little too free with your swing? Tell me that’s not what you’re saying to me right now.”
My heart was beating even faster now. It was the first time I’d seen real anger from her. Finally, I was getting somewhere.
“Yes — it’s the truth. I was. Okay, I was stupid.”
Anna’s eyes narrowed, her nostrils flaring. Her voice was back to a murmur — but I wasn’t fooled by it. Though she still watched, her words weren’t for me. “We can’t do anything with him if he’s going to pull this.”
“I guess he wants to do things the hard way,” Darynn muttered behind him.
“One last chance to change your story.” Anna drew in a breath, and I couldn’t help but notice the way it made her breasts move. I hated that she was so beautiful.
So unattainable.
“I’ve told you the truth,” I lied. “That’s it. Believe it or don’t — it’s how I feel.”
Her gorgeous dark eyes bored into me, and I felt as if a thousand pound weight had been set upon my chest. For a long, tense moment, there was only the silence, her cold glare.
Then something shone in her eyes I’d never expected.
Pity.
“This poor boy has no idea.” She lifted a finger, the long polished nail pointed at him. “It’s the hard way then.”