“Yet, you…you took up the challenge of finding me like a medieval crusader off to find the holy grail,” the Marquis spat out, his temper steadily rising, although he was still very much in control. The wide-eyed Laney stared at him in petrified silence. “You returned to the island… you ran off to Paris and then came here to Prague and, isn’t it ironic, found yourself subject to the vicious elements of society who nearly enslaved you beyond my reach… beyond my reach…” He shook his head stunned, turned around, let the room fall into a breathless quiet, then whipped around again. “And how did you gain the information that brought you here—lies, trickery… and through the theft of my private property…” He suddenly pointed to a table, previously unnoticed by Laney, on which sat the two books.
“How…?”
“How did I get them?” he raised his brows, then continued, “I had a friend search your hotel room until he located what I suspected was there. You can be sure that was all that was taken.”
“How dare you enter my room!”
“How dare you steal from me!” he was right in her face, outraged, and she backed up, suddenly quaking in fear.
“I’m sorry. I’m forgetting myself,” she said weakly.
“Oh, but you are performing right in character, aren’t you?”
Her lip trembled as she bit it hard; her eyes welled with tears.
“I never meant…”
“I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm, which is why I’m actually seeing you now to set you straight. You can be appropriately punished for your flagrant crime—which you will be later. But your willfulness is another matter to be handled.”
She grabbed the bracelet. “I may have stumbled badly, sir, and for that I apologize, but I still very much want to…to be your humble property.”
“Oh? What makes you so sure?”
She didn’t know what to say.
“No, you don’t really know. This is not some simple fantasy to tickle your prurient fancy, Laney Priestly. You were warned by two men I trusted to drop your goal of finding me—you should have heeded their warning. You have no idea what you’ve stumbled on, what you’ve demanded of your life by confronting me this way.
“There is nothing romantic or idealistic about serving me. It can be hard, miserable, demeaning work, that will give you very little of the sexual pleasure you seek. If you thought this was a game of sexual pretend “—oddly his words mocked the scene on Marquis Island with Alex— “you are sadly mistaken. If you think this is about your sexual fulfillment, you’ll soon discover it is not. It is about my pleasure, and that of the men who have joined my circle of sadists. If you derive any pleasure at all, it’s not because it’s my goal to make that happen.”
He stopped long enough for Laney to come back with a reply.
“If it was your plan to scare me off, sir, you are doing a very good job of it.”
“Is that so?” he mocked her. “Why now? Reality finally bite you in the butt?”
She had no reply. Her head was throbbing, confusion filling her brain. Her fears mounted and tears ran down her cheeks streaking her carefully applied make-up.
“You want the bracelet off now—that’s not up to you anymore, you lost that chance when you started on your ill-fated odyssey. If you think you can walk away just because this arrangement suddenly doesn’t suit you, you are wrong. If you think you can walk back into your old life as a high paid East Coast lawyer, you have underestimated the man you’re dealing with. You have underestimated my power.
“Oh, I see that razor sharp legal mind of yours start working double-time, don’t think you have recourse with your government. Let me assure you, you are no longer under their protection. You’re here. In my house. You leave only if I let you leave. If I so choose, I could have you arrested—just as I did a few days ago—and incarcerated for as long as it pleases me. Your State Department would take little interest in returning you from foreign soil once they saw the charges filed against you.” He raised his brows evilly. “Or, I could just keep you here as my captive, where no one would ever find you.”
Suddenly lightheaded, she could feel her dizzying trepidation practically send her careening to the floor.
The Marquis grabbed her by the arm to keep her upright. “Cut your silly theatrics, and listen to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she quietly whispered.
“There is not a soul on this planet other than the people in this room who know where you are, and they won’t tell anyone unless I tell them to. The shopkeeper in Paris probably told you that he didn’t know my whereabouts; he wasn’t lying. The bastard Kafka who kidnapped you probably told you he’s my enemy. He is right, but he would not know me if we were sitting side by side on a park bench. You wonder what happened to the bastard and his revenge… you can be sure he’s been taken care of, although not in the way he planned.
“Welcome to my world, my sexual underground. I operate free of encumbrances from any government. You might say I’m in the world, but not of it. And you’re in my world now. You’re stuck here, victim to me. I’m sure that’s not what you intended when you practically beat upon my door. Whatever romantic notions you might have entertained about the sexual activities you have been introduced to through your association with me—or because of that bracelet—you can be sure that my properties find little of that here.
“You think maybe that young fisherman…what was his name?”
“Alex Greenwood,” she answered softly.
“Yes, that’s right, Alex Greenwood. I doubt he’ll be much help to you. Turn around.”
She gazed back at him stunned.
“I said turn around,” the Marquis prompted.
She turned, her eyes scanning several men she’d only glanced at before, and then suddenly focused clearly on the man she recognized.
“May I introduce you to Alexi Ruschke.”
“Alex!”
No shorts, no t-shirt, no baseball cap or knapsack of sandwiches—no fishy smell, no boat, no island. Instead what stood before her, leaning aloof and casual against the doorjamb, was a man who could have walked from the pages of GQ, the polished exec she might see any night at New York’s Four Seasons with an elegantly dressed female on his arm.
“Laney,” he nodded his head.
“What are you…”
“Turn around, Laney, and look at me,” the Marquis interrupted. She continued to stare at Alex Greenwood in his black suit and starched shirt, trying to make contact with the man who’d given her so much pleasure. “Turn around,” this time the Marquis barked the order and she obeyed him, although she could barely concentrate now on his endless rant.
“What to do with you now is of some concern to me,” he went on fearlessly. “You are tainted and imperfect with that bastard’s tattoo on your thigh, upstaging the one your own husband branded to your flesh. It will cost you as much as the foolish theft of my books.” He finally looked as though he was winding down. “I think, gentlemen,” he gazed off beyond her, “that it’s time to see this one punished. Tonight, we’ll have a subject who will serve our sadistic needs with her masochistic ones.” And returning back to Laney, “Take off your clothes.”
This was all happening way too fast, but her hesitation only warranted another curt remark, “Take them off or I’ll have it done for you. You have no right to wear what you haven’t earned.”
Laney moved without hesitation now, struggling from the pink satin blouse and the burgundy skirt. Her fingers simply didn’t want to work as she began, but at last she was freed from the clothes and they were lying on the floor. The color of her complexion turned rosy with an embarrassed blush, as she felt the dozen pairs of eyes fixed on her. She could even feel her ears burning hot. Worst of all, she imagined Alex Greenwood behind her, looking directly at her bare ass. She was glad that she didn’t have to face him. Of all the people in the room, Alex was the one she dreaded the most. The rest were strangers. Even the Marquis didn’t matter the way this one man, this bogus fis
herman, did.
While Laney’s thoughts were focused on Alex Greenwood aka Alexi Ruschke—he was more of a mystery to her now than ever—the Marquis inspected her carefully. Her blush deepened from the scrutiny, but he made no comment other than to say in his same curt, clipped voice:
“Take her Nicholas,” and after pausing thoughtfully, “And Mr. Ruschke, you will deliver the punishment.”
***
Laney was hustled from The Forum through a back door that connected directly to the cellar staircase. The descent took place quickly as the rough Nicholas was a bit like a linebacker in a suit that fit a little too tightly for his muscles. He might as well have carried her. The stairs were old, vibrating a little too much to please her, and with her feet still tucked into the dangerously tall high heels, it would have been impossible to manage if it hadn’t been for the bear of a man who purposefully held her close to his side.
At the base of the stairs, he set her down then took her by the hand and she stumbled behind him into the darkness of a long corridor, until they reached a room where she was unceremoniously shoved into a metal cage that was built into the stone wall. The back of the cage was stone, the three surrounding sides were formed by heavy iron bars.
The cage door closed with an ominous clank, then Nicholas set the lock and without saying a word, he left the room, leaving a shivering Laney alone, afraid and now very cold.
In the silent darkness there was little for Laney to do but think…so much had happened in so short a time… expectations dashed, assumptions shattered, accusations flung at her that seemed hardly justified. Her sanity felt violated. She felt used, demoralized…elated to have been rescued from Kafka …suddenly the Marquis’ fierce judgment…and now Alex sideswiping her with his appearance. He wasn’t supposed to be here, for he was in none of the scenarios, none of her daydreams she conjured when she imagined how her first meeting with the Marquis would play out. Now he was once again firmly entrenched in her thoughts. And he, of all people, would punish her.
The Marquis was really nothing to her now, just an accusing stranger. Any erotic energy she had been feeling from him when he first started to speak had been wiped away by his brutal message, and with Alex in the room, her sexual being was focused solely on the man who knew her more intimately than any man alive.
At least now she understood how he could be so intuitive, how he could know so much about the island and her submissive character, how he could play into her kinky lust so easily and bring her body to such erotic heights. He had told her that he brought his girlfriends to the island for fun and games! How he’d lied and she’d believed him. Her body bristled with arousal, her pussy flooding with life and lust… but the companion to those feelings was a wildly brewing anger. The incidents on the island, the deceit, the careful couching, the way he led her…she couldn’t explain that to the Marquis, he wouldn’t believe her or understand. Of course, Alex had warned her, but he’d also stoked the fires of her need, and incited the mystery of the bracelet. He’d even been the one who first mentioned Paris. All these things conspired together, making it impossible for her not to continue with her mission—which had now landed her in this awful cell.
In the midst of her thoughts, Laney heard the door to the room open. Looking in that direction, she saw Alex standing in the dim light of the hallway. He tugged the chain on the overhead light inside the room—a bare bulb, nothing more—then closed the door behind him.
“I suppose you can imagine my surprise when I was informed that you were here,” he said, directly.
“Oh, really?” she said, as she peered out through the bars.
She felt like a fool inside the miserable cage, without clothes, her feet still wearing the blasted high heels. She angrily took them off and threw them against the bars, then she pulled up and sat with her back to the jagged stone wall—it was hardly comfortable, and maintaining any semblance of dignity in these conditions was impossible.
Alex paced around above her.
“Laney, I warned you about this.”
She humphed… “Oh! Did you really? You didn’t tell me much of anything, but a lot of enticing speculation. It hardly dissuaded me. If you’d have been honest, if you’d informed me that you were ‘in bed’ with the infamous Marquis, I might have actually taken your message seriously.”
“Would you really?”
“Yes, I might have.”
“It’s not for me to be honest with someone who is deliberately lying,” he rattled off curtly.
“You know why I was lying. I was protecting myself while doing my best to find the answers I sought. You could have given me those answers. You could have stopped me on that island. No one would have known but you and me—you could have cut this damned bracelet off!” She hadn’t realized how shrill she’d become until she finished on that high-pitched note. “If you think I’m going to feel better about this because you’re coming here, hat in hand to … to what? Be nice before you beat me bloody, or whatever…”
Although he remained standing above her looking down, Alex figuratively backed off, and Laney could feel his cool like a sudden icy blast of winter wind. “It would seem you’d be more courteous to the man who’s been designated to punish you.”
“And would that make any damn difference?” She spitefully bit off each word, still angry and still not ready to back down herself.
“I wouldn’t bait me, Laney.” She could feel his anger now, not cold but hot.
Noting the look in his eyes, she felt a tremor of justifiable concern pass through her. “Maybe you should just get on with it.”
He nodded. “I will do my job, and you will be hurt for it, Laney.”
She wished she could have contained her emotions a little more, but there was nothing she could do about her outburst now. There was nothing more to say.
After a few difficult moments, Alex turned and doused the light, leaving her to stare out into the pitch black darkness once again.
Chapter Fifteen
Torchlight gleamed across the craggy stonewalls of the cave-like room into which Laney was led. Like something out of a Medieval dungeon, the room brought to mind the worst nightmarish images of convicted slaves, suspended from chains and beaten raw and bloody as they screamed into the night. Imaginings like these had often been fuel for Laney’s sexual lust, but the reality of such a room and such sadists ready to implement depraved fantasies like these had never been her reality.
It was now.
Once Nicholas pulled her from the cage, every nerve in her body, every human sense she was born with was heightened. As she walked in front of the men into this arcane cellar room, she felt almost disembodied: her mind detached, but her body more alive than ever and more scared. Instead of being numb, she felt her fear fully, along her skin and in her beating heart, and pulsing loins. A masochist—at least to some degree—she could hope that the way Alex would ravage her would in some way please her, but there were no assurances at all.
“…you will be hurt…”
She had to assume that, this time, he wasn’t lying.
Alex was there, facing her as she walked in. She was taken to the center of the dungeon room and her arms were lifted above her, cuffed and attached to chains hanging from the beams above about three feet apart. Her feet were cuffed and attached to much shorter chains in the floor.
Then Alex made her wait for several minutes, while the seven men who’d joined them in the dungeon gazed at her thoughtfully. In time, two men with leather gloved hands came forward and played with her body. One nipple was twisted for nearly a minute while the man looked her in the eye. She felt compelled to keep her mouth shut and bit her lip instead of gasping out in response to the increasing pain. That pain thread its way through her body and finally settled deep inside her groin where it tangled with the molten energy there and produced a spasm in her belly. Her response had its erotic undertones, though it was difficult to associate the feeling with sex.
Another man bent her
over his arm, as far as the bondage would allow, while another man began to probe her anal cavity with his gloved hand. He swathed her with a cream that began to warm the place until it heated her so viciously that her insides began to burn. He began inserting dildos into her rectum, fucking her with them, then pulling them rapidly out and replacing them with larger dildos, continuing this process several times until the last enormous dildo simply wouldn’t fit.
“Please, sir I can’t.”
“Oh, but you can, Laney!” Alex barked coldly from the sidelines. “Warm up her ass, that should help.”
The man backed off and another stepped behind her, and while she cringed with every part of her body seizing up, a thick leather strap was bounced off her derriere. Her flesh turned a fiery shade of red, and she moaned, half in pain and half loving the way the leather tore away the stranglehold she’d placed on her desire. She’d been too scared to be turned-on, and as the pain increased, her fear strangely dissolved, reforming only when the strapping ceased. Before her fear could regroup however, the fattest of the dildos was shoved into the previously ungiving space. She thought she might explode, but it did fit.
“Leave it there!” Alex barked.
“It’ll have to be strapped in,” he was told.
“Then do it.”
A belt was buckled around her waist, then two leather straps attached to that belt were thread through her crotch on either side of her labia and drawn up her ass crack, then snapped into the back of the belt, effectively holding the butt-stretching dildo right where it was lodged.
Her eyes bugged out as her body attempted to adjust to the impalement, meanwhile Alex stood haughtily off to the side, passively watching her distress.
Another sadist moved in front of her with glass bell cups that went over her nipples and a good bit of her breast flesh. Fitting tightly against her skin, the air was withdrawn from the cups through valves in the opposite ends, which resulted in her tit flesh being sucked outward.
She was forced to adjust to another discomfort and another level of pain that, depending on her ability to suffer, could be a blessing or a curse. At its inception, this new means of torture was no blessing at all.
The Marquis' Book of Pleasure & Property of the Marquis Page 32