Primal Nature

by Monique Singleton

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  It took three days before Ortiz sent for her again, the reunion fierce and lustful—at least on his part. He almost dragged Tonal into his quarters the minute she arrived, ripped the costly dress she wore and forced himself upon her without the slightest thought for her feelings. In character, she went along with the show, encouraging him all the way. The sooner he was spent, the sooner he would leave her alone again if only for a short while. As expected, Croc was present during the act.

  Rearranging his clothes, Ortiz threw a new dress on to the bed. ‘Please wear this, my dear. I seem to have damaged the one you were wearing.’ Once again, all fake chivalry and manners, belying what had just taken place. ‘I promised that we would be together again before the bruise faded, and I see I was right’ indicating the soft yellowish bruise on her breast. It obviously pleased him that he had marked her this way. ‘I have visitors that I would like you to meet, so please clean up and meet me in the library.’ He left the room, Croc hard on his heels.

  That was new. Leaving her alone. Dulce entered the room and stood at the end of the bed, awaiting orders. After a shower, new makeup and perfume, Tonal slipped into the new dress. It was a tight fit, clinging to all her curves in a seductive and trashy way. She was the trophy, to be shown off to whoever was visiting.

  “Whoever” turned out to be a group of generals, all rough men, dressed up to look decent. As one they stood when she entered the room escorted by Croc who had banged loudly on the door of Ortiz’s bedroom twenty minutes after his master had left her and picked her up.

  Ortiz beamed. The dress was superfluous, accentuating more than hiding any part of her body. That, and the expert make up administered by Dulce, made her even more seductive. The effect that she had on the congregated men with their elevated testosterone levels was amusing. It was also exactly what that Ortiz had envisioned.

  ‘Gentlemen, may I introduce the love of my life.’ He put his arm around her, cupping her breast and squeezing lightly, pinching the nipple until it hardened, much to the jealous glares of the visitors. In turn, she seductively rubbed her body up against Ortiz and softly groaned at his administrations.

  ‘Here, my dear’ he managed to say in a throaty voice. ‘Sit next to me.’

  She lowered herself into the chair and leaning to his side, observed the gathering. There were six men, four in their forties or fifties and two younger—about mid-thirties. They sat and acted in a manner that showed that they were used to being waited on, their orders followed without questions. One of the younger men openly stared at her, undressing her with his eyes. She returned the stare and then demonstratively hooked her arm in Ortiz’s. This caused him to look up from his conversation and follow her eyes to the young general. His eyes hardening.

  ‘Little brother, this one is off limits, even for you’. The younger man shrugged and lifted his glass as a toast.

  ‘You always had impeccable taste, brother’ He ceded to the one person in the room who had total power. There was no love lost between the siblings.

  The servants approached the gathering and stood in total silence until Ortiz deemed to acknowledge their presence. ‘Dinner is served’ he stood up, offering his arm to Tonal. They crossed the room to the dinner table on the veranda. His hand leaving hers and resting on her behind, slowly pulling up the flimsy material to expose her bare buttocks. The action was calculated. The generals were all behind him and privy to his administrations. Pulling back her chair, he indicated that she sit next to him.

  Topics at dinner ranged from what the Americanos were doing to help the forces, the irritating partisans, fine wine and liquor, to which actors were starring in which films. Talk was light, and the booze flowed easily.

  After dinner, they retired to the library, Ortiz kissing her hand. ‘I am sorry my dear, we must now talk business. I will send for you soon, before the entertainment.’ Handing her over to one of the servants, Ortiz took on a much more dominant demeanour and addressed the waiting generals.

  She was directed out of the room, back to the bedroom where Dulce waited. Croc was still with the generals, obviously needed there. Tonal knew that Ortiz wouldn’t trust any of the gathered men, his brother probably the least of all. Power was contagious, the more you came in contact with it, the greater the envy. One handy way to get your own power was to relieve someone else of his. As relatively decent as they had seemed at the dinner table, she knew that they would all have to be almost as vicious and psychotic as Ortiz to be able to survive in his inner circle. Once again, Tonal and Dulce played the waiting game.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  The same servant came for her two and a half hours later. She was taken to the large reception room where the men had convened. The discussions had obviously been fierce. There was a lot of tension, particularly visible in the face of one of the older generals and Ortiz’s brother. These traces of unrest in Ortiz’s brother were immediately replaced by lust when she walked into the room, her high heels clicking on the tiles. The old general, not so easily swayed, attempted to continue the discussion but was abruptly silenced by Ortiz’s stare.

  ‘Ah my dear, there you are again, come sit with me.’ He had a glass of what looked like whisky in his left hand and indicated that she sat on his lap. Accepting his invitation, she draped herself over him. He immediately placed his free hand high up on her thigh, the fingers under the hem of the dress, stroking the soft flesh and observing the reaction this had on the others. Feeling him harden again, she wondered what he was taking to keep up his libido. Whatever it was, he was taking a lot.

  Nodding to Croc, he addressed the waiting men. ‘Gentlemen, enough discussion for one night. Now it’s time for the entertainment.’ His hand moved up higher under her dress and continued the soft stroking. Croc opened the door and a group of eight women entered the room. They were without exception beautiful and very young. Music started, and they began to dance, moving in sync with each other to the cheers of the men.

  Ties were discarded, uniforms unbuttoned further, and shoes kicked off. The women danced seductively closer to the waiting men, spurred on by their cries and catcalls. Slowly the dancers began to undress, continuing to move to the music. Clothing soon littered the floor.

  Ortiz’s brother stood up and grabbed one of the women roughly, causing her to cry out. She regained her composure and moved up against him, after all he was the boss’s brother, a very influential man in his own right. Moving her hand down the front of his pants, she opened the belt and unzipped his fly. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face to his.

  ‘With your teeth’ he ordered. She dropped to her knees and to cheers and encouragement of all present proceeded to comply with his wish. Obviously good at her job, she took the rim of his boxer in her teeth and proceeded to maneuverer it over the large erection, freeing it. With an exclamation of awe at its size—slightly overdone acting but still what the customer wanted—she opened her mouth and proceeded to expertly blow him.

  Most of the men had followed his example and grabbed the woman of their choice. The hierarchy between the generals was obvious in the choices. By the time Ortiz’s brother had turned his prize around and was fucking her doggy style, all the men were engaged in some form of sex. Ortiz pushed Tonal off his lap on to the floor and her head on to his engorged member. He would observe the others while she administered to him. Her dress rode up around her hips, uncovering her naked form, much to the glee of the others.

  The orgy lasted for some hours, fuelled by booze, drugs and Viagra. The women, except for Tonal, were swapped, sometimes used by more than one at the same time. One general enjoyed hitting and hurting his woman, to the encouragement of the others.

  Finally, they were all spent, all except for Ortiz. He had held back, only climaxing once during the orgy, now he proceeded to show the gathering that he was top dog. The one left standing. Her dress now also on the floor, Ortiz pushed Tonal over onto all fours, taking her roughly from behind, pushing her f
ace into the carpet. The rest watched. Spurring him on.

  At last, he finished.

  ‘Enough Gentlemen’ Ortiz barked. ‘The women will accompany you to your quarters. Please leave them whole, they are expensive.’ Gathering some clothes, the women led the temporarily sated generals out of the room to the quarters they had been allotted. Last to leave was Ortiz’s brother.

  ‘If you tire of her, send her to me’ he whispered to Ortiz, his libido still not sated, or maybe reinstated by the show. ‘You always did give me your hand-me-downs.’ He winked at her, threw one of the women over his shoulder, motioned a second to follow and left them alone. Ortiz pushed her aside roughly. No longer needing to keep up appearances.

  ‘You did well, they all lusted for you. Men make mistakes when lust is foremost in their mind. I know who to monitor.’ Sitting with her back to the sofa she regarded him. He had rearranged his clothes and was seated behind the desk. Taking care of business. He ignored her, she knew enough to dress herself and leave the room. ‘Don’t leave the compound’ he called after her ‘I’m not finished with you yet.’

  She went back to the bedroom, bathed and brushed his stink off her. Dulce was silent, intuitively understanding that what had happened was worse than last time.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  In the small hours of the night she awoke to Ortiz’s snores, he had at some moment joined her in the massive bed. His arm was draped over her. Carefully she moved it to the side and slipped out of bed, sensing that Croc was nearby, she stayed in her role. Walking to the open balcony doors she gazed out over the now quiet compound. In the distance her acute hearing picked up the sound of someone crying, she thought the woman who had reluctantly followed the oldest and most vicious general. The one who could not follow through, never mind how much drugs or Viagra he used.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ Ortiz stood behind her, he had moved almost silently and now held her by the waist.

  ‘Nothing’ she replied. ‘Just looking out.’ Her answer didn’t satisfy him. He pulled her away from the light.

  ‘There is nothing to be seen out there.’ Pushing her in the direction of the bed he added ‘but here, we play a new game.’ The hairs on her neck stood up from the sheer menace clear in his voice. ‘Stand here’ he ordered, stopping about two feet before the bed. ‘Hold your arms up.’

  She complied crooning ‘What are you going to do now my love.’

  He looked her deep in the eye ‘I am going to test your love, see how far you will go for me, make sure that you remember me while you are gone from here.’ He took her wrists and, with the help of Croc who materialised behind her, clasped them in broad leather handcuffs that hung from the ceiling. She had not seen these, so there must have been some kind of mechanism that had silently lowered them while she was not observing. Croc left her and moved to the wall, where he pushed a button that was obviously linked to the cuffs. Slowly she was hoisted into the air, her toes barely touching the floor. Both men grabbed a foot, and pulled them to the side, where they fastened them to cuffs protruding from the floor. She was totally incapacitated, hanging from the ceiling with her legs spread wide. Dread crawled up over her back. This was the Ortiz showing his true colours.

  ’What are you doing? She asked him, the expected tremor in her voice.

  ’Having fun’ was his answer. Croc was beaming. Finally, she would get what she deserved. Ortiz nodded, and Croc tore the short t-shirt off her body. Moving away from her he took up his position near the wall with a vicious grimace on his features.

  Ortiz removed his boxers and walked to a closed cabinet. Opening the doors, he flicked a switch that controlled two spotlights, one shone directly on her, the second illuminated the contents of the closet. It was filled with all manner of whips, knives, clamps and other devices she attributed to bondage games. Picking up a leather head-cap, he moved back to her. His eyes bore into hers, even though she knew that he could not kill her, she shivered at the pain she could expect.

  ‘This isn’t funny anymore, let me down’ she tried, fully into her role, but also meaning it deep down inside.

  He smiled, held up the cap with one hand and slapped her viciously with the other. ‘Now we do what I want’ he whispered. ‘Now I have some fun. You are too independent my dear, too arrogant, you need to learn to adhere to my wishes, do exactly what I want.’

  ‘But I did’ she answered angrily. ‘Everything you wanted, I did. Even performed before those disgusting men. I did it all.’

  He slapped her again. ‘You were too arrogant, not quick enough to my needs and now you need to be punished.’ It was clear that whatever she said would not help, he wanted to hurt her, and used every excuse he wanted, not that he needed any.

  Croc held her struggling head, while Ortiz slid the leather cap over her face. There were holes for her eyes, but leather flaps were fastened over them, shutting out any light. She could breathe through a small pipe in the leather that Ortiz had slammed into her mouth. The supple impenetrable leather covered her nose. Holding his hand over the opening of the pipe, he whispered in her ears, the only parts of her head that were uncovered. ‘I determine whether you breathe, whether you live or die here, now.’ Holding his hand over the breathing hole for more than a minute, he let his words land. She gasped for breath when he let her, then the game started again. Ortiz zipped the cap closed on the back of her head.

  ‘Now you find out what obedience means’ he whispered.

  The torture lasted for hours. Her eyes and nose were obstructed by the leather cap and all she could do was listen. Half way through the ordeal she couldn’t distinguish between Ortiz and Croc anymore. She was abused in every way possible. With nightsticks, dildo´s, tasers and naturally a human dick, she was degraded and molested and left hanging when Ortiz was finally spent. Suspended from her wrists she was exhausted. He could not kill her, that was true, but he had definitely hurt her. She healed—but she hurt. She concentrated on holding back her healing powers, now that would be something to explain in the morning and she tried to relax. Losing all sense of time, she slipped into a restless nap every now and then.

  At some point in the early hours she felt hands on her again. Softly, not pinching and hurting, stroking her—almost intimate. She raised her head and tried to get a sense of where Ortiz was. With only her sense of hearing and intuition to guide her she was confused. She heard and felt the man, he rubbed up against her with his hard penis sticking into her leg. But she also heard snoring. Was that Croc or was he the one groping her. She could not get the scent through the sweaty leather cap. Straining against the restraints she tried to turn her head to the person behind her. A hand slid over the cap and closed the air pipe. He kept his hand there, cutting off her breathing. She felt the panic rise. She relied so much on her senses, that the absence of them was frightening. He didn’t speak, just held the pipe closed until she stopped resisting. Once again, she let herself hang in the chains.

  The hand left the pipe and she gratefully inhaled more-or-less fresh air. His hands moved over her body, pinching the nipples erect. He moved behind her and positioned himself between her outstretched legs. Entering her he gripped her hips. He felt different, his size, girth, not what she was used to, the rhythm slow and decided. It strengthened her belief that he was not Ortiz.

  He was taking an enormous chance, fucking her while Ortiz slept. But it was now or never. If Ortiz found out, he would feed Croc to the lions, bit by bit, dick first. She was his property, and his alone. But Croc was sick of the sadistic bastard. Oh, it wasn’t the violence that irritated him, it was the arrogance, the way he treated Croc. No matter how he acted towards all the others, Croc was the leader of the Mercs, not some lowly servant or slave. He deserved more. And then the bodyguard detail, waiting in the shadows while Ortiz rutted, defiling this beautiful but equally arrogant creature. He lusted for her—any man would. Hearing them at it only increased the tension. Now he had his chance. As long as he stayed quiet, and with a bit of sheer l
uck, he could pull this off. She would not tell, she could never be sure it was him, and his death sentence was automatically hers. If Ortiz thought she had been defiled, he would ditch her no matter how beautiful she was. Climaxing as quietly as possible, he slowly pulled back from her. Softly stroking her hair and back.

  She was furious, certain that it was Croc. But she had no proof, and besides why would Ortiz believe her. He knew her feelings about his bodyguard. The snoring continued in the background, Ortiz was still sound asleep.

  In the morning, heralded by the sounds of birds, she heard Ortiz wake up and move about the room. He ignored her, dressed and got ready for the day ahead. ‘Get the handmaiden’ he ordered the ever-present Croc.

  When Dulce arrived, she had to use every shred of restraint not to cry out when she saw her friend, soiled, bruised, bleeding and hanging from the ceiling with a leather cap over her head. She had shallow wounds that looked like whip marks, on her back and buttocks. They had not healed, so Tonal hadn’t wanted them to.

  ‘Get your mistress out of here’ Ortiz barked without deeming to look her way ‘take her home and wait until I send for her again.’ He left the room, Croc in his wake. Leaving her to find out how to free Tonal. She started with the leather cap, unzipping it and easing it off her head.

  ‘Oh God, what happened…’ she was silenced by the look in Tonal’s eyes, remembering that the room was probably wired, or maybe even filmed.

  ‘Get me down’ Tonal hissed. ‘The button on the wall.’

  Dulce turned, searched the wall for the button and flicked it. The chains lengthened and slowly Tonal sank to the ground, her legs were unable to hold her weight—the muscles screamed for relief. Dulce ran over to her and unlocked the leather straps on her wrists and feet. Pushing her away, Tonal stood and slowly walked over to the bathroom where she stood under the shower for the better part of half an hour. When she reappeared she was clean, though careful not to seem too resilient for anyone who may be watching. ‘Get my clothes’ she barked at Dulce.