by M. Never
“Yes,” he agrees.
“Damn straight.” I clam up and go back to slamming the bag. Jett just stands there eyeing me.
When I take a moment of reprieve, he strikes.
“So nothing’s bothering you?” the calculating motherfucker questions again.
“Yes, something’s bothering me. You.” I kick the bag, the frustration blistering under my skin. I don’t want to talk!
“I always bother you, it’s what I live for. And I’ll pester you all night until you spill. I don’t want another explosive catastrophe.”
“Jett,” I warn, crackling like a live wire. He needs to lay off.
“Kayne!” he shouts shoving the black bag in my face.
My emotions burst. “I punished her okay! I picked up a goddamn paddle and beat her ass!”
Jett pauses, looking at me funny. “And that’s bad because?”
“Because I liked it!” I hit the punching bag so hard my knuckles crunch. Fuck!
“Oh?” He studies me. I growl at him as I rip off my boxing gloves. “What has you conflicted? You’ve punished women before.”
“I’ve punished a willing submissive before. Ellie is different,” I clarify.
“She’s your slave. You treat her as such. She disobeyed. You delivered the consequences. That’s how it works. You knew this when you took her. Yes, she’s different, but that’s the harsh reality.”
“I don’t want to become the thing I’m fighting against.” I toss the gloves on the ground.
“You won’t,” Jett says simply. I’m glad one of us is convinced. “Warrior mindset, my friend. Ellie got caught in the crossfire and now you have to protect her by any means possible. Don’t overthink it. It will only drive you mad. Just remember, your hand may be firm, but Javier’s is deadly. And if you like it, so be it.” He shrugs. “Our business is stressful. Being with her is a release. Give her some time, she’ll come around.”
“You sure about that?” I respond skeptically as I unravel the tape from my hand.
“I am. I’ve been training girls a long time. Her biggest hang-up is perception. The taboo lifestyle. Break down the barriers of belief and she’ll be eating out of your hand.”
“I’m trying.” I drop my head, concentrating on the rivulets of sweat dripping down my chest.
“Keep it up. She’s strong, but you’re Master.”
“What if she ends up hating me in the end?” I look up at him with just my eyes.
“What if she ends up loving you?” he counters.
“I don’t for one second believe that will happen,” I scoff.
“You never know. People can surprise you. Ellie never saw you coming.”
“That’s because I’m trained to be invisible.”
“Well you’re not transparent anymore. Make her believe what she has to for now. It’s for her own good.”
I groan. “I’m definitely going to hell.”
“I’ll be right there with ya, brother. Wearing a hat and sunscreen.” He slaps me on the shoulder.
“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
“Yup. Someone has to be.” Jett glances at his watch and grimaces. “Speaking of pains in the ass.”
“Javier?”
“Yes,” he seethes. “I don’t like the way he’s treating the girls. Especially Spice. He’s way too rough.”
“Warrior mindset, my friend,” I throw his words back at him.
Jett glares, then slugs me.
THE SUNLIGHT WAKES ME UP.
I’m still in the same position I was lying in when I fell asleep. On my side, hugging the pillow, chained to the bed.
My emotions feel like they’ve been put in a mixing glass and shaken up. I don’t know what to feel, so I choose nothing at all.
I hear the door click, but I don’t move. Kayne said I was supposed to kneel every time he came into the room. Well fuck him, my subconscious screams. My body, on the other hand, trembles knowing I’ll be subjected to punishment if I disobey.
“Morning, sweet thing.” I see Jett hovering over me in my peripheral vision.
“Go away,” I say petulantly, squeezing the pillow tighter.
“Feeling a little used and abused this morning?”
“Yes!” I yell distraught. I’m not doing a very good job at reining my emotions in. So much for not feeling anything.
“I heard you tried to make a great escape.”
“Tried being the operative word,” I talk into the pillow.
“Didn’t go so well, did it?” he mocks.
“Ask my ass, it’ll tell you. I hate him.”
“Rough night,” he muses. I groan in response. I want to punch him in his patronizing mouth.
Jett pulls on my shoulder, rolling me over onto my back. I wince as my tender behind makes contact with the mattress. “It wasn’t all bad, was it?” His aqua eyes are wide and sparkling.
I look at him like he’s a loon. “He spanked me, hit me with a newspaper, and made me crawl around on all fours. Then he handcuffed me ...” I stop right there.
“Handcuffed you and did what?” Jett probes salaciously.
I stay silent with tears welling in my eyes.
“Made you feel good?” he questions. “Made you come?”
“Made. That is exactly the word,” I growl.
“And feeling good is a problem because?”
“It’s not the fact he made me feel good. It’s the fact he treats me less than human. That he forced me!”
“Maybe he’s trying to liberate you.”
“Maybe that’s utter and total horse shit!”
“We can argue the maybes all day. Bottom line, you came and you liked it.”
“It’s empty,” I dispute furiously.
“Sex slave,” Jett reiterates. “Power, ownership, pleasure.”
I nearly burst into tears.
“Keep your eye on the prize sweetheart. Please him, and he’ll please you. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.”
“It goes against everything I know.”
“Then maybe you need to learn a few new things.” Jett shrugs.
“And I should let Kayne teach me?” I sneer.
“You said it, I didn’t.”
I curl my lip at him.
“Come on. Get up. A shower will make you feel better. Then I’m going to pretty you up.” He hits my leg good-naturedly.
“Pretty me up?”
“Yes.” He pulls the key ring that holds my freedom out of his pocket and unlocks the collar. Once off, I immediately rub my neck. That thing is restrictive as fuck. “This manicure has died and gone to hell.” He lifts my hands, pointing out my chipped pink polish.
I begrudgingly roll off the bed. My ass is so sore. I curse Kayne with each step I take—fucking bastard, asshole, shithead, douchebag. As Jett turns on the shower, I catch a glimpse of my battered behind in the mirror, and gasp. It’s beet red with flesh-colored hearts all over my butt cheeks. “Oh my God.”
Jett looks at me through the mirror and smirks. “Kayne spanked you with love.”
“I don’t think he’s capable of love,” I bitterly retort.
“Of course he is. Everyone is capable of love.”
“He’s a monster.”
“Maybe, but even beauty loved the beast.”
“I’m not living a fairy tale. I’m living an American horror story.”
Jett shrugs. “It’s whatever kind of literature you make it. If you believe it’s a horror story, it is. If you believe it’s a dark erotic romance, it is. The choice is yours. The mind is a powerful thing.”
I look at him like he’s crazy.
“Just trying to help,” he states.
“It’s not working,” I respond flatly.
He rolls his eyes. “No more chitchat. In you go.” Jett ushers me into the steaming shower, and as soon as I step under stream, I jump. “It hurts,” I whine as the running water hits my abused bottom. It feels like tiny needles stabbing me.
I stick my tongue out at him. It’s the only rebellion I have left.
“Wash, Ellie,” Jett instructs curtly.
I do as I’m told. Delicately. Every movement hurts. Once I’m done with the most torturous shower of my life, I dry off carefully. Jett tries to have me sit on the folding table, but that’s just not happening. My butt is way too sore. Instead, I stand as he blow dries my hair with a round brush making it smooth. Good thing he’s a foot taller than me. After that, he opens a drawer and retrieves two bottles of nail polish. A light peach colored one and a red.
“Which?” he asks.
“You’re giving me a choice?”
“Yes. I’m not your owner. I have no interest in dominating you.”
I survey the bottles, debating carefully. “Which do you think he’ll like?”
Jett cocks an eyebrow at me.
I purse my lips. “I don’t want to pick the wrong color and displease him. My ass would like to avoid another beating,” I clarify.
Jett shakes the peach color. The bottle jingles. “He won’t care. Trust me. He likes anything when it comes to you.”
I stare at Jett quizzically. He just smiles and starts removing my chipped polish.
“How long have you known Kayne?” I inquire tactfully as he carefully paints my nails. I don’t pretend to believe I have a friend or ally in Jett. But he doesn’t come off as threatening as long as I behave. He’s shown compassion, and even though I don’t trust him completely, it doesn’t mean I can’t pump him for information.
Jett flicks his eyes up at me. Then starts on a second coat. “A while.”
“What’s a while?”
“Years.”
“How did you meet?” I ask, my gaze jumping between his face and my hand.
“Mutual friends,” he says flatly.
“How did you start working here?” I don’t really even know where here is. I just know Kayne has ‘clients’ and ‘women’ who he keeps captive and strings up for their pleasure.
Jett scoffs. “I don’t work for him. I work with him. Don’t confuse my duties. I may not be the face of the company, but I do my fair share. Actually, I do more.”
“What’s the ‘company’ specifically?” It’s obviously more than just tequila. “What is this place exactly?”
“The less you know the better.” He sidesteps my question.
“Jett, please,” I beg with big puppy dog eyes. Hey, if I am going to be compared to a pet, I might as well use the goods. “Tell me something.”
He groans under his breath, hesitant to talk. Once he finishes painting my pinky finger with the shimmery peach, he looks up at me with an entertained expression.
“I have a feeling you are going to give Kayne a run for his money in more ways than one.” He shoves the brush back into the bottle, and then huffs. “It’s a whore house, Ellie. An upscale brothel. We keep women here for pleasure.”
“How many women?” My eyes widen.
“A good amount. And I’m responsible for their well-being. All of them.”
“Are they all locked up like me?” My voice strains at the image of dozens of women chained to a bed.
Jett looks at me like he’s trying to dance around words. “No. They aren’t locked up like you.”
“They’re not? It’s just me then?”
Jett nods.
“Why?”
“Because you’re special and that’s all you need to know.”
“Because I’m Kayne’s?” I speculate.
“Now you’re learning.”
I frown. This shit’s fucked-up.
Jett rests his hands gently on my shoulders. “I will tell you this one thing about me. I care about each and every one of them. Including you.”
I WAIT OUTSIDE ELLIE’S ROOM.
I don’t know for how long, because time seems to stand still.
I’m leaning against the wall off to the side, so Jett doesn’t notice me immediately when he exits.
“How is she?” I ask as he locks the door. He jumps, snapping his head in my direction.
“Must you lurk?” he scowls.
“Yes. It’s what I do. How is she?” I reiterate.
“A little upset, feeling abused, but she’ll be okay. This is hard for her. She doesn’t understand.”
“We agreed that was the best way.”
“I still believe it is. But if you’re worried, go in and see her.”
“You know I can’t do that. I have to keep my distance. It’s safer for everyone involved.”
“I know that too.” He puts the key ring holding Ellie’s protection and freedom back in his pocket.
“Just make sure ...” I falter, not exactly sure what I’m trying to say. “Make sure—”
“She’s taken care of?” Jett answers astutely.
I nod with stern eyes. I haven’t been able to think of much else since Ellie was carried into this house. Last night felt like an injection into my veins. I didn’t think I could do it—command someone against their will—but it came easier than expected. Fighting her, overcoming her, watching her slow descent into submission. Then tasting my sweet, sweet victory in the end—it changed something in me. And I want more. So much more that I’m counting the seconds until I can go back in that room again.
“It’s what I’m here for,” he reminds me.
“It’s not the only thing you’re here for.” I punch him in the arm. Don’t let his skinny ass fool you. Jett may spend a majority of his time with women, but he can throw down with the best of them. I know, because I fucked with him once. Once. The first time I met Jett I couldn’t understand what he was doing with a bunch of hooligans like me. He was quiet and reserved and when he looked at you, those aqua eyes felt like they were digging under your skin. At least that’s how it felt to me. I didn’t like it, and I made it known—I threatened to stab them out. That toothpick motherfucker actually got in my face. He scored a point for formidability. I’m half a foot taller than him, double his weight and muscle mass. But it didn’t matter. The minute I lunged at him, he took out my knee, quick as a jackrabbit. Dirty little shit. I ended up on my back with Jett’s hand around my throat. For a puny guy, he has a death grip. It was my first lesson in don’t judge a book by its cover. I was put on my ass by someone I would normally be able to knock into next week.
It took a little while, but Jett and I finally cleared the air. My ego was bruised and so was my knee, but he never stopped pushing—for some reason he wanted to be friends with me. That was a tough concept. I was a loner. Still sort of am I guess. I didn’t have the most favorable upbringing; I bounced from foster home to foster home my entire life. Trust is hard to come by when you’re verbally and physically abused, starved and locked in closets at seven years old. Most of the time it felt like I was living with a wild pack of wolves. Everyone out for themselves, survival of the fittest. And even though Jett grew up with a loving mother and stable home, his life wasn’t much easier. He was a target; a black sheep because of the business his family was involved in. Growing up he fought for his life every day. In and out of hospitals, being treated for concussions and broken bones, after seven guys would gang up on him after school, smashing bottles over his head or breaking two or three of his fingers.
Seven to one? Those are some seriously fucked-up odds.
We had torture in common, and the same torment in our eyes. Except he was the trusting human and I was the untamed animal. He definitely helped shape the man I am today. He taught me about discipline and control. He opened my trust with loyalty, my mind with books, and my body with women. I was a virgin until I was nineteen. No lie. When I said I had trust issues, I wasn’t kidding. Especially when it came to women. Having your birth mother promise to come back and save you from the hell you’re living in, and then never hear from her again kind of fucks with a little boy�
��s head. So much so it ripples into adulthood.
Jett introduced me to the BDSM lifestyle and was my mentor in all aspects of sexual exploration and dominance. He is not just a business partner or good friend. He’s my brother, and the only true family I’ve ever had.
“Speaking of other things,” Jett hints. “Where is our Mexican house guest?”
“Slithering around the mansion like the snake he is.” I have eyes on him at all times. I know where he goes and whom he’s with, making sure he doesn’t slither within a mile of Ellie’s room. He asks about her every night.
“How’s your whore Kayne?”
I ignore him.
“When she’s ready I want a taste,” he antagonizes me.
Drop fucking dead, I want to say. Instead, I bite my tongue till it bleeds.
“What’s mine is mine,” is my only reply.
“Has he indicated when the meeting with El Rey will take place?” Jett inquires.
“No. He’s still feeling us out. He’s not stupid.” I cross my arms. “We just have to go on like normal and hope he finds everything kosher.”
“Well I hope he hurries up, and then slithers right into some oncoming traffic.”
“If everything goes as planned, amigo, he will.” We bump fists.
MY OBEDIENCE TRAINING HAS CONTINUED the last five nights. It’s always the same. Kayne comes to me as soon as the sun goes down.
He feeds me dinner with his fingers while I kneel between his legs. That’s why there’s only one chair at the table. He quizzes me with commands, making me roll over and sit up repeatedly. He forces me to lay down at his feet to rest. When I don’t obey or move quickly enough, he punishes me.
At times he’s ruthless. Other times he’s tender. Regardless of his mood, the night always ends the same. He ties me up and makes me come, afterwards asking if he can fuck me. When I refuse, he jerks off and marks me. He allows me to clean up then puts me to bed.
This is the vicious circle my life is becoming. Alone all day, misused at night. I’m nothing more than a pet to play with.
I hear the door click, and I immediately jump to my knees. He’s training me whether I want to admit it or not. My body reacts in spite of my brain’s objections.