by Sam Crescent
He was pissed off. I made him that way.
“I’ve told you to not ask me questions you don’t want answers to.”
“I’m not asking you anything I don’t want answers to. Your men beat and rape the women into fear. So they don’t fight. So they stand obediently for others to pick over them like cattle.”
“This is the end of this discussion,” he said.
“I will pay you back all the money that you’re saving for me for company.”
He’d turned away, heading toward the door. My words made him stop.
His hand reached out, touching the doorframe as he turned toward me. “You’re serious?”
“Yes. Every single penny. I don’t want it. In return, you never take women again.”
“You’re a fool, Ashley.” He left the kitchen, and I rushed to catch up with him.
I wouldn’t forget about the cinnamon rolls, but they were the last thing on my mind right now. All I wanted was to know if I could save more women.
“Don’t walk away.” I reached out for his arm.
He grabbed me roughly and pressed me against the wall. “No.”
“Please. The money you’re paying me. There’s no way you would be getting that much in a shipment of girls.”
“In one shipment, no, but you’re meddling in shit you have no right to.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“Earl.”
“No!” The word was final, the sound echoing around the walls. I couldn’t help but feel the tears flood my eyes because I knew it was useless in fighting.
“You need to stop trying to save everyone and think about yourself every once in a while.”
“What is so wrong with me wanting to help people?” I asked. I didn’t get it.
Where he held me hurt, but I didn’t ask him to stop.
“Do you think they’d give a shit if the roles were reversed? That they’d even lose sleep knowing someone was hurt and they could do something about it?” he asked.
“I don’t care if they would do the same or not. I’m not doing this for any other reason than because I want to. If I can help, then I will. What is so wrong with that?”
He moved so fast, his lips right next to my ear. His body pressed against mine, and it wasn’t erotic. It was a threat.
“You’re a naïve fool, Ashley. This world is full of monsters and beasts. We don’t pander to you. Left out in the world, someone would come and hurt you. They’d eat you alive and spit out your carcass.”
“Do you think you’re scaring me?” I asked. He was, but I hoped he didn’t know that. Emily had said many the same things in the past seven years. She told me I was too trusting. Too open. Too vulnerable. I cared too much.
If all of that was true, and I guessed it really was, why did it have to be such a bad thing? I cared about people. In a cold, hard world, I tried to offer some kind of hope, and yet, according to Earl and Emily, it made me a fool.
At that moment, I was angry.
“You’re terrified. You’re shaking.”
“Don’t mistake my anger with fear. I’m not afraid of you.” I pushed against him.
“I haven’t given you any true reason to fear me, sweetheart. You want to push those buttons, last night was a walk in the fucking park. I can make you do things that will have you on the edge of your fucking seat. Now, that money is yours. The women are saved, and don’t ever fucking test me again. You won’t like it.”
He let me go. His grip had been holding me up. Now I sank to the floor.
He was right. I was terrified.
I wanted to help people.
I was tired of those closest to me seeing that as a weakness rather than a strength.
****
Earl
“Women are a tool. They’re there to be used and taken. It’s why they’re the weaker sex. They’re not strong. Our cocks are hard. We’re designed to take.”
Running a hand down my face, I poured myself a large brandy. One of my grandfather’s many little speeches, pertaining to the differences between men and women, ran through my head. At the time, I had no choice but to listen. To my grandfather, women were put on this earth to be taken by men. To be used by them. They didn’t have a mind. They had no right to think for themselves. The only uses they had were their mouths, assholes, and pussies. Everything else about them was useless.
Even with all that teaching and attempt of brainwashing, I didn’t believe it.
I’d learned to close myself off.
Business was exactly that, business.
It couldn’t be changed.
I adapted what needed to be done.
Now, as I drink the brandy, a luxury in life, I knew the fifteen women from the shipment that would have brought in a pretty penny were all back with their families. I’d kept my word. Followed through with my agreement, and I couldn’t stand the tightness within my gut.
I’d lost count of the number of women I’d sold. They were nothing more than numbers. Tallies on a piece of paper, numbers in the bank.
They weren’t supposed to matter. I’d resigned myself to them being lonely, runaways, lost. Women who’d been easily led astray, who had a shit life to begin with.
I didn’t have to see Ashley’s dare through, but for some fucked-up reason, it was important to me to show her that I kept my word. I had. Apart from the renegotiation I’d done with the Monsters, I’d never lied. I’d manipulated the truth.
The women had been waiting in the usual location. A warehouse with each room locked and bolted. A single mattress with a bucket in the corner for them to use for the toilet, giving them nothing. The lives they were purchased for, some were good. I knew that. Some of the men even fell for their products. Others, I didn’t imagine the life was as good.
As I poured myself another shot of brandy, my hand shook, and I ignored it, swallowing down the amber liquid.
None of it should have mattered.
Nothing.
Yet, as I’d given the order, my men had been arguing. Telling me that I was making a mistake.
The women didn’t see me, but I made sure they knew they had been protected by a fucking angel, and if they talked, I would hunt them down and kill them. Once I discovered that each young woman had a family. The cop on my payroll, whom I paid greatly for information, had found out there was a missing person report on all of them.
They weren’t lost.
They were fucking wanted.
I only questioned once, but I was clearly fucking lied to about how they were taken. I truly thought they were lost, not actually taken.
My grandfather had once hinted at what they did and where they found them. Now, I was sick.
The brandy didn’t help. Nor did the smell of the cinnamon rolls.
So many fucking women.
They were nothing more than a job. I shouldn’t fucking care.
Ashley was my problem. She had made me see them.
With the brandy no longer helping, I loosened my tie and threw it across the room.
I felt out of my mind. Ashley was the problem. She could fucking fix it.
After leaving the office, I found her in the kitchen.
She’d removed her oven glove. Her eyes were a little red.
Going to her, I grabbed her arm, pressed her up against the fridge, and sank my fingers into her long brown locks. After tilting her head back, I slammed my lips down on hers, silencing any protest, ravishing her mouth.
Each touch of this sweet angel soothed my soul.
No one else had cared about her, not really.
Not the Monsters. Not Emily. Just me. She’d been used and discarded. Her mother had been a piece of shit.
I’d assembled pieces of her life and knew there was a part of Ashley’s heart that was shattered.
It fed her need to help others. To make sure they didn’t ever feel like she did.
I got it, but I didn’t like it.
She was the treasure in life. No one else.<
br />
It pissed me off.
Her hands went to my waist. She wasn’t pushing me away.
Breaking from the kiss, I grabbed her hand and pulled her upstairs. She didn’t tug back, nor did she fight me. There was no one to stop us. No one to hold me back.
Ashley was mine. Fucking mine.
I entered our bedroom and removed my jacket. The clothes were too restrictive. Grabbing my shirt, I pulled it apart. Buttons sprayed left and right.
Before I got to my pants, I was on Ashley, tearing her dress. The fabric gave way beneath my grip.
It was a pretty dress, but it looked even better in pieces on the floor. The moment it was off her, I felt a sense of achievement. The bra was next, followed by her panties.
I quickly took care of my pants and boxers, kicking off my shoes too. I moved Ashley to the bed, getting her to lie down.
Gripping her knees, I spread them open, not giving her a chance to argue with me as I slid my hands down toward her pussy. The lips were already slightly open.
I moved my fingers between her slit to find she was a little dry. I held her thighs open and leaned down, pressing my face against her inner thigh, laying kisses on the tender flesh. There was so much more I wanted to do, but I merely bit down. Once again, I was holding myself back.
When it came to Ashley, I had to. I didn’t want her to fear me. I wanted her to crave me as I did her. To become addicted.
Leaving her was a fucking chore and I hated it.
I hated this woman with a fiery passion for how she made me feel. I was a bastard beast. I didn’t have feelings. The women I bought were a product. They were a means to an end.
Angry at Ashley, I held the lips of her sex open and took her clit into my mouth, sucking on it hard.
Her cries filled the air, and that was exactly what I wanted, what I needed to replace whatever the fuck was going on in my head.
Ashley caused this. She could help to take it all away.
I used my teeth, scoring around her bud. She arched up, her tits shaking.
Flicking my tongue back and forth, I watched her, hypnotized as she ground herself on my face, enjoying the pleasure I could give her.
I wanted her to come hard. I didn’t stop, making her take all the pleasure I had to offer. She was mine. All mine, and I didn’t share. I wasn’t letting her go.
I brought Ashley to orgasm, but as far as I was concerned, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I drew a second orgasm out of her, and by the time she was on her third, she was screaming my name. She wanted me to stop but not stop at the same time.
She couldn’t take anymore.
Kissing my way up her body, I glided my tongue toward her nipples, circling each bud as I took one then the other into my mouth. I pressed them together, flicking my tongue between each moan, hearing her moans.
I let her go and wrapped my fingers around my dick, working from the base up to the tip, then back down again.
The desire to fuck her cunt was so strong.
Her virginity would be mine.
She was slick enough. Ready for me.
I placed the tip of my dick at her entrance. I couldn’t turn away. Staring at where she’d take me. Her thighs quivered.
I wanted this.
To fuck her.
To break her in.
To make her mine.
I didn’t penetrate.
I was angry. This wasn’t the time to savor.
Pulling away from her pussy, I stood up and worked my dick. Ashley sat up, and I wrapped my fingers in her hair, taking her to the floor.
“Open for me.”
She opened her mouth, and I placed the tip of my cock there. Then I started to fuck her lips, sliding across her tongue, going to the back of her throat.
This time, I didn’t go easy.
I made her choke on my dick, swallowing me down.
Ashley’s hands sank into the flesh of my thighs, holding me still, but I had a firm grip on her hair and stroked myself to completion.
“Don’t swallow until I fucking tell you to.”
My cum flooded her mouth, and I eased from between her lips, tilting her head back. Some of my release was already on her pink lips.
“Show me.”
She opened her mouth, and it was full of my spunk.
“Now swallow it.”
She closed her mouth, and I watched her throat move.
“Show me.”
Ashley swallowed all of my cum.
“Good girl.”
Letting go of her hair, I should have felt satisfied, but I wasn’t. The orgasm had taken away my anger and my tension. I was so close to fucking her for the first time, and that wouldn’t do.
When I claimed her pussy, I’d enjoy every single second, and it wouldn’t be in anger.
Chapter Twelve
Ashley
I never saw the piece of paper again.
It was like it didn’t exist.
The women were no more.
They’d gone home to their families, and I didn’t know if I’d done the right thing or not. Earl kept his distance.
I didn’t know how much time passed.
Days and nights passed. I lost count of how many.
Only when I talked to Emily did I have any indication of how long I’d been on the island. We were approaching five months now. Five months since he’d brought me here. Still, I was a virgin.
I really thought he was going to take me that day.
Earl came and went off the island.
I didn’t know how he left. Each morning he was gone, and he’d return. I didn’t hear a helicopter or see a boat.
I could go exploring, but each time I tried, I actually saw one of his guards. It was the only time I saw someone else.
The silence. The loneliness was starting to wear on my nerves.
So much so that I stood at the edge of the ocean, the waves lapping at my feet. The sun was setting once again. The island was so beautiful, as it always was. The beauty was fake. All of this, it meant nothing.
There was no truth in it.
There was no happiness here.
Just the sense there could be.
Tears filled my eyes as I took another step into the ocean. I hated the water.
I liked swimming in a pool, but the ocean contained so many other living things. It terrified me.
My heart raced as I took another step.
I didn’t want to be on this island anymore.
It was so lonely. So quiet. I missed the hustle and bustle of London. The rudeness of people. The laughter. The anger. I missed the rawness of humanity.
Here, it was like I was set apart from it all.
I’d landed in some dystopian world, and I couldn’t handle it. Not anymore. I needed to be surrounded by something more.
Tears spilled down my cheeks as I took another step, then another. I was waist-deep in the ocean, with the sun setting. With sharks, and so many other beasts that would kill me.
The one on the island, he wouldn’t touch me or hurt me. He’d spanked me, yelled at me, sometimes grabbed me roughly, but he hadn’t truly hurt me.
There was no chance of him killing me, and at that moment, so lost and alone, it was all I could think about to be peaceful.
Emily once told me she thought of dying, of taking her own life, and it made me wonder if I had it in me to kill myself. Could I keep on going? The water scared me the most, but this not knowing was the worst.
He kept me here like an object, waiting for him.
Ever since our dare, he’d been distant. He was unhappy with me.
Did I finally make him feel something? Anything? I clenched my hands at my side. Every part of my body screamed for me to turn back, but I took a step further, and another until the water lapped at my chin.
If there was a shark or a sea beast, they could take me now. I was deep enough. I thought.
My heart was pounding. The urge to swim consumed me. If I started swimming, I could keep on going un
til death claimed me.
I lifted up and began to float, staring up at the night’s sky that would soon be cast all over. The sun was so close to setting.
I turned over with the intention of doing exactly that when an arm wrapped around my waist and dragged me away from the peace I was hunting.
Screaming, I fought the hold, but he wouldn’t let me go.
Earl’s curses rang out in the night and with it, my anger as well. How dare he!
When we were back to shore, he threw me to the ground.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
I didn’t think. I got to my feet and attacked him. He grabbed my wrists, stopping me from clawing at his already scarred face.
I wanted to put a mark on him. So I knew there was something more to him than the asshole beast that kept me here.
He shoved me back, not hard, but enough for me to stumble.
“Why did you stop me?” I asked, screaming at the top of my lungs. My throat hurt. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I made no move to bat them away. I wanted the tears, the anger, the aggression. It was all directed at him, and he deserved it.
“Do you really think I’d let you escape?”
“Is that what you think? I’m trying to escape you? I’m trying to get the hell away from this, from myself, from you, from everything. I don’t want to escape. This isn’t about freedom.”
“You were trying to kill yourself?” he asked.
“Was this the torture you set out for me? To break me down? To watch me lose every single part of myself?” I laughed. “Of course, it is. This isn’t about my virginity. This is about you having complete control.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do. If it was just sex, you’d have had me already.”
“Get in the house.”
“No!” I slammed my foot down. I wasn’t going to be ordered around, not by him, not anymore. I wasn’t in a position of power, but I did have something I could take away from him. Glaring at him, I stepped toward him. “Take it. Get it over with. Fuck me, Earl Valentine.” I spoke his full name, and other than his nostrils flaring, it was like there was no reaction to him. He was a cold man.
“Get in the house before I make you.”
“Then make me, Earl. But know this, if you don’t fuck me tonight, your chance with a virgin will cease.” I moved up toward him.