by Devon Ashley
Don’t do it. He’s going to do it whether you play the game or not. You’ve already proven that.
“No,” I whispered.
He didn’t hesitate to press the number four. She screamed and actually grabbed for the collar this time. I bit my tongue to remain quiet, but I felt awful for what he was doing to her, and she was slower to recover this time.
Holding out the remote again, he repeated, “Press two, and before you say no, I’m going to tell you that we will be shocking her four more times. If you hesitate or refuse, I’ll punish her with a much higher number. Now, either you press two or I’m pressing six.”
“Six!” I bellowed.
“She’s getting shocked either way, love.” I cringed when he called me that. “Will it be a two or a six?”
He was dead serious. I didn’t want to play this horrible game, but I didn’t want her to suffer because of me either. This wouldn’t even be happening if I hadn’t gone to the police and let him discover my location.
I took a deep breath, and with a shaky finger, I pressed the two. Veronica jumped, but like the first shock, it scared her more than hurt her and I sighed in relief.
“Time for the six.” He buzzed her before I could object. She really screamed this time and my hands went to cover my mouth.
“Whoo!” he hollered. “Even I felt the jolt that time. Veronica, get off my lap and lie on the rug.”
Shit! She actually did it. Lying flat on her back across from us, her gaze only had eyes for him. I cringed when he held the remote out for me again, making me wait while he decided on a number.
“Hit the eight.”
Eyes bulging, I screamed, “What? You said I’d be the lower number!”
“You are,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I’m about to hold the eight down for five seconds. You’ll be doing her a favor getting her used to it.”
My jaw quivered, anticipating the pain an eight would cause. He was heartless, staring coldly at me like that.
“Please,” I begged, a single tear trickling down. “Leave her alone.”
Clearly disappointed in me, he held the eight down. I yelled my protests but they were drowned out by her screams. She writhed around on the floor, trying desperately to remove the collar, not understanding that she couldn’t even if she could comprehend how to unlock the latch.
Those were the longest five seconds of my life and I wasn’t even the one in pain. That round took a lot out of her and she lay there whimpering and crying. Zombie or not, she could still feel pain, and because I hesitated, I increased her trauma. Her tears instigated mine and she looked up at me pathetically.
“Last one. What’s say we go out with a bang? Hold the ten for ten seconds.”
“Fuck you!” I screamed. “Look at her! She could barely take the last one. You want her drooling into a damn cup for the next week?”
He dangled the remote. “Do it. Or I’ll hold it for a minute.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I snipped.
He tilted his head at me, accepting my challenge. “Now you have to hold it for twenty seconds.”
Gasping at his brutality, I smacked the remote from his hand, knocking it clear across the room. My face constricted, the muscles in my body cringing all over, expecting to be slapped at any moment. At least if I was unconscious, I wouldn’t have to partake in this cruel game anymore.
But he surprised me by smiling. Unnerved, I didn’t know what to expect. “Now that’s going to cost her the whole minute.”
My heart beat furiously as he collected the remote, then pulled my ass away from the wall so he could sit behind me. He wrapped around and grasped my hands in his, trapping me.
“And you’re going to be the one to do it.”
I knew the moment he surrounded me that he was going to say that, but I still wasn’t prepared. I broke down right there, my hands shaking violently in his. I shook my head. “No. You can’t make me do it. I won’t do it.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised what I could convince you is in your best interest to do.”
He easily, and very painfully on my part, squished my finger down on the ten. I tried to wiggle free, tried to block out the blood-curdling screams I was inadvertently causing, but I couldn’t do either. All I could do was close my eyes off to the jerky, seizure-like movement before me.
He counted in my ear, releasing me after just ten seconds. Veronica collapsed lifelessly to the floor. I trembled in his arms, refusing to ask why he stopped fifty seconds shy of the one minute mark.
“Let’s give her a minute to rest.”
How could he say that so calmly? It just sickened me how one minute he could seem caring, then cruel the next. “Why?” I croaked, drainage clogging my throat. “Why are you doing this to her?”
His mouth nuzzling my ear, he whispered, “There’s a way you could end this right now, if you’re interested.”
Shit. My head fell forward.
“You know I’m going to fuck her after this regardless. I’ll drop the shock therapy if you’ll help me get off again.”
I closed my eyes and rolled forward in his grasp. My intestines ached from all the heaving I’d done the last two days. Was this the whole reason for the damn game? To get me to watch again? To get me to play?
I looked to the remote in my hand and considered my options. Always two fucking options with him. Watching her have sex, which she seemed to enjoy for some horrible, unfathomable reason, was definitely the lesser of two evils here.
“Natalie?” he asked, pushing a decision out of me. Weakly, I nodded my head, already filling myself with regret.
The bastard didn’t even let her recover. He leaned over and stuck his fingers inside her, her eyes opening so wide she looked like a freaking cyborg being activated for the first time. Veronica didn’t seem to mind though, already enjoying the attention.
Fucking sick.
He played with her a bit, literally shaking the wooziness from her body. I couldn’t watch as he stripped off his clothes and pulled her on top of him. She must’ve been anxious to get going because he instructed her to wait.
Then he called for me. When I forced my head to turn, it confused me as to why his hand reached towards me. “Come sit in front of her.”
“What?” I cried sharply. Hell to the no!
He waved the remote in the air, reminding me of what he could do if I backed out of our agreement. “She’ll do all the work but you’re the one I want to see.” Coldly, he added, “Now climb on or I’ll zap her until she’s fucking comatose.”
My mouth fell open and my body froze in shock. I couldn’t move. What he wanted absolutely horrified me. And unfortunately, I was close enough that all he had to do was snatch my wrist and yank me towards him. Next thing I knew I was forced to straddle him, my wrists kept prisoner within his hands as their movement began around me.
Damn tears. Everything about this place, this man, made me cry. I wanted to kill him for this. For humiliating me in a way no other had ever done. His hands slid up my slip and dug roughly into my hips, forcing me to move in sync with Veronica. He may not have been penetrating me, but he was screwing me with those hazel eyes. I was the one he was trying to ram harder and harder against his body.
I had to close my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to shut out the world and think of Nick, but there was no way to escape the sounds and movements around me. The jerk had put me smack dab in the middle of their orgasm!
When they came, he shooed Veronica out of the room but refused to let me out of his grasp. He pulled me down, holding me flush against his chest, his hands stroking my back roughly through the satin. He felt up my hips and cupped my ass, still trying to rock my body against his, and I immediately felt him stiffen between my legs. Denied panties since the moment I woke up here, panic overtook me, and I tried to wiggle off him, inadvertently rubbing myself against him even more.
“Anything I can do for you, love?” he teased. He knew I was trying to break free, but enjoyed the way my
struggle rubbed his cock along the very entrance I was trying to avoid.
“Let me up,” I grunted, struggling against him.
“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” One arm wrapped tightly around my waist, keeping me grounded, as the other roughly squeezed my ass.
“There’s no act.” I pushed up against my knees with all my might, but all I got in return was his amusement.
He rolled us so fast I couldn’t find my bearings, and I ended up flat on my back with his weight pinning me down, his fingers pushing deep inside me. When my legs kicked wildly, he prodded even farther. I gasped, screamed, and probably even cried. I was helpless, trapped. There was no way I could stop anything he wanted to do to me right now.
“Oh, yeah? Then why are you soppin’ wet? You think I didn’t notice you dripping all over my stomach? I had to hold you down just to keep you from sliding off.”
He was rubbing inside me now. “Get off,” I sobbed, my lower body trying to thrust and twist under his weight, trying to squirm away from his hand, but it was impossible.
“Really? Is that all you’ve got? Because I don’t think you mean it.” He propelled in and out and my muscles spasmed around his fingers.
“You said you wouldn’t rape me!” I screamed awkwardly, hoping the reminder would get him to pause, but he was still playing between my legs.
“Yes. And by that, I meant I won’t shove my dick inside you. Hands, however, are fair game. My house, my rules.”
I had so many emotions and feelings going on inside me, that I didn’t know what to think or say. What could I do? He was bigger, stronger, and got more aggressive the longer I fought. Tears dripped from the corners of my eyes as I ran out of steam, finally lying there whimpering, no choice but to let my body rock within his grasp.
“It’s okay to want it,” he tried to soothe, his voice so smooth it sickened me. “I mean, seriously.” He pulled his fingers out and showed me the glossy liquid coating them. “Your body is screaming for it.”
My hands went to cover my eyes, to block the horrible scene happening between my legs. “Oh, don’t hide, love. I like seeing your face.” When I refused to obey, his hand pulled away momentarily and I heard that awful clicking noise again. And I knew that in any second, my arms would be forced away from my face. I only cried harder when they were extended behind my head, completely useless to me now. He pulled on my legs to stretch me out, eliminating my ability to fight against him, then forced his way between my shaking legs. I let out a blood-curdling scream the first time he licked me, pinning my legs apart with so much strength, my thrusting did nothing to move me even an inch.
I tried to go numb, to tell myself over and over again that it was just my body, that he wasn’t getting any part of me that truly mattered. Not my mind, my heart or my soul. Those all belonged to Nick. What he was doing to the shell that housed all of those things meant nothing. It was just a body. Just a body.
But it was a hard sell.
He watched me intently as his tongue and hand violated me over and over again, tears drowning my face, my body so conflicted as my mind, heart and soul vehemently objected, but my outer shell throbbed and got off until I came on him. When he released me, I curled into a ball and completely broke down, the pain from my reddened wrists not enough to distract to me from the endless throbbing down below.
He slackened my chains and abandoned me on the rug to cry it out. Sometime later, I heard Veronica’s footsteps padding across the carpeted floor. I actually had to pry my eyes open, because the number of salty tears I shed had completely encapsulated them. She curled into me on the rug and closed her eyes to fall asleep.
A fire still raged inside me. I was so angry. I’d gone out of my way to save her, to keep him from hurting her, and my compassion got me violated in return. I was the one being damaged. She got to live in freaking zombieland, forgetting the bad as soon as it happened to her, while my sound mind was left to suffer, the images continually flashing before my eyes, haunting me. I could still see him towering over me, watching my every reaction, getting off on making me squirm despite my disgust. I could still feel him inside me, making my insides twist in ways that made me want to retch, a desperate plea to expunge him from my body.
And she freaking laid there without a care in the world, having the nerve to inch closer, seeking the comfort of my touch, possibly even my protection.
“Get away from me,” I muttered angrily, my voice raspy. She didn’t, unaffected by my command. My head pounded, pain radiating out from behind my eyes, and I still throbbed between my legs. I pushed her, commanding her again, but she simply rolled back.
“What the hell is wrong with you? I said get off!” I was screaming now, sitting up and pushing against her. She was finally getting the picture and fearfully crawled backwards before running out of the room. I fell over my knees, burying my forehead in the blanket of fur, crying all over again. I had cried way too much in this house, so much it was as natural as breathing now.
I could hear his footsteps long before he entered the room, pounding and echoing against the floor, quick and heavy, determined. His path deadlocked on my spot, I scampered until I ran out of slack. He roughly grabbed my throat and yanked me to my feet, so high my toes could barely scratch the floor. For that split second, when I took in the rage on his face, I understood the meaning of pure terror. My heart stopped as my entire body froze, even the air within my lungs too afraid to escape.
His voice deep and dark, he slowly asked, “Did you hit her?”
“No,” I squeaked, his hands tightening more around my throat, so hard it minimized my air flow.
“If you’re lying, I’ll only hit you harder.”
“I didn’t,” I whispered painfully.
He dropped me like a sack of potatoes and headed to the armoire. I bent over and heaved, trying to catch my breath. Inside, a collage of small TVs cycled pictures and he typed something on his keypad to get the feed for this room to rewind and replay. I heard myself yelling, the struggle as we scuffled along the floor and then her feet thumping out of the room. Then he closed the armoire and crouched before me. He grabbed for my chin, but this time with a gentler hand, lifting it to inspect my neck. I doubted he was capable of sorrow, but the way he looked at me made me think he regretted being so rough. He twisted my head in both directions, probably assessing the redness he surely made on my skin. Releasing me, my head fell downward and he sighed heavily.
“So what am I supposed to do with you, huh? Keep you or sell you?” When I didn’t answer, he added, “Just so you know, tomorrow I’m holding an auction and I’m only going to keep one of you.”
My head jerked up, my eyes widening before I could control my worry.
“I’d rather have you, but you know the stipulations for being my house guest. So you’d better figure out what you want quickly, because at this moment, Veronica’s literally got the jump on you.”
Night three sleeping on the floor sucked worse than the first two. I had a hard time figuring out if he spoke the truth about there being an auction today, or if it was just another ploy to literally screw with me. I wanted to go home. To Nick, because I refused to believe the worst possible outcome of that night. Until proven otherwise, I would believe he was safe, waiting for me to find my way back to him again. At least this time I knew there were loved ones looking for me. And I think they were the source of my courage these days.
I just wanted to be home. And this was certainly no home. Even if I were able to have free access like Veronica, I’d never be free to do anything, to go anywhere, to be something other than a sex slave. I’d only have the options he offered me, which always consisted of what he wanted from me and something so cruel he knew I’d never choose it. So he got what he wanted every time.
Trapped like a fucking rat.
When he woke up I tried not to move. He slept naked at night, and had no problem meandering through the room before pulling on jeans and a t-shirt he grabbed from the closet. Com
ing my way, he didn’t touch me or even bend down to my level on the floor. He just simply asked if I had had my epiphany yet. I sighed and tucked my head farther into my body.
Bitterly, he snapped, “Tick tock, Natalie. Only ten hours to choose.”
His steps were heavy going out the door, my head vibrating with each pound. I pinched my arm until it bruised. I’d click my feet in fucking red shoes if I thought it would help. This couldn’t be my life! Nineteen and already abused by two who thought they had the right to own me, to use me for their pleasure, to lock me away as if I’d committed some atrocity that earned me this death sentence.
Veronica came to feed me cinnamon raisin oatmeal, but I wasn’t hungry. After she refused to acknowledge my many refusals, I finally told her he said I didn’t have to eat if I didn’t want to. She seemed completely unaffected by our altercation last night. I couldn’t help but pity her – and envy her all at the same time, because she was able to forget the horrors as soon as they happened. So maybe she was the luckier of the two of us after all.
Several hours later, he was back, looking none too happy with me. I wanted to panic and skitter backwards, but there was really no point. I knew that now.
Ruffling a stack of papers in his hand, he said with an annoyed tone, “Thought you’d like to start sifting through your list of suitors for tonight, maybe choose one in advance so I can tell him how much you hope he wins the auction.” He held the first one out. From my spot on the floor, I could see a picture of an older man, maybe in his fifties, and a bunch of notes written off to the side. “Here. This one’s fat and ugly.”
He threw it down and it lay beside me. He was right. Fat and ugly.
“This one’s fat and ugly, too. And I suspect Russian mafia. Good luck with that,” he snapped maliciously. “Ah! This one’s actually young and good-looking like me, but watch out because he’s hardcore S&M. Fat and ugly. This one’s so fat he’ll probably have a heart attack raping you, so I suggest you do whatever’s necessary to be on top.” With pinched, angry eyes, he added, “Wouldn’t want him to squish you to death in the process.”