by B. B. Hamel
I shouldn’t want this. I’m supposed to be confused. But as soon as he stepped into the room, I knew what it meant. I was so afraid that it would be a guard and the relief and joy that I felt when I realized that it was Logan has to mean something.
I know he won’t hurt me, that’s what it means. He didn’t force me to bow down like I was afraid he might. He even came back to check up on me in the middle of the night, which is unusual. It makes me wonder what’s going on, but I can’t get into that right this moment.
The only thing I know is that he makes me feel good. He makes me feel better than just good, he makes everything seem okay in ways I can’t really imagine. It’s so strange and intense and exciting, and I don’t want it to stop.
In fact, I want more. I want freedom, but I want Logan, too. I can’t decide which one I want more, which is really frightening.
I grab his hair and pull his head up toward me. I kiss him hard, not holding back anymore. I moan into his kiss as his fingers slide back inside of me, fucking me with his thick, rough hands.
I move forward and grab his belt, pulling it off. He helps get his pants down and off and soon enough I’m sitting on the edge of the cot, stroking Logan’s hard cock as he looks down at me.
I take him between my lips and start sucking with a mad feverish desire that I didn’t know I had inside of me. He groans and is speechless for the first time, which only makes me work him more. I love the taste of his thick cock between my lips and I love trying to get as much of him into my mouth. I let him slide down into my throat and I groan as he gags me, but I don’t slow down, I don’t stop. It doesn’t matter if I choke, I need this.
He pulls me back and kisses me. We don’t seem to need to talk tonight as I stand and push him back across the room. He turns and pins me against the wall, raising my hands above my head. Slowly, he undresses me, removes my top and my bottoms, leaving me standing there naked before putting my hands over my head again. He holds them against the wall with one hand while he teases my pussy with the other.
His eyes are intense on my body. He takes a nipple between his lips and teases it, sucking gently then biting down softly. I moan as his fingers press inside me, fucking my wet pussy. He keep teasing my breasts and I feel so controlled, but I love it.
He releases me and pulls me back to the cot. Before he can put me down on it, I push him back, forcing him to sit down on the edge. Once he’s there, I straddle him.
“I want to feel you,” I whisper in his ear, not sure where this is coming from.
“Go ahead, Riley,” he says back. “Ride my fucking cock. Feel all you want.”
I reach back and position myself then slowly sink down along his thick length.
I groan, tipping my head back as he teases my nipple with his teeth again. I begin to slide up and down, working my hips as I ride his hard cock.
I slam down on him as he grips my hips and kisses my neck. I can feel that intense pleasure building inside of me, and I know that I won’t last long. Not as our bodies start to sweat in the warm night. I was so close when he came in and now I’m going to finally release.
I continue moving, sliding, his hands all over my body, slamming me down onto his cock, slapping my ass, gripping my hips, teasing my breasts. He’s all over every inch of me and I love it, need it, as my hips move, twisting and working, my back arched, tension flowing.
And then I feel it. My toes curl as I come hard. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my forehead into his chest as I come. He grunts and fucks me through it, pushing it harder, driving the pleasure into peak intensity.
And just as it passes, he stands and moves me off him. He roughly presses me back down onto the cot on my knees, spread wide, and I press my hands against the wall to brace myself.
He takes my hips and thrusts into me. I gasp as he fucks me like a savage animal from behind, rocking into me, slamming me, filling me. I want him so badly, need him to take me however he wants. I’m so blinded by pure bliss that all I can see is Logan and nothing else.
He fucks my body, hands cupping my breasts then slapping my ass. I love that feeling and I’m sure there’s a red handprint on my milky white skin. That just drives me crazy as I buck back against him.
He groans, grunting, his whole body going stiff. I work faster, bucking and twisting my ass and back. I want him to fill me, come deep inside my pussy, give me what I need.
He groans and grips my hips. I can feel him coming and I moan along with him, working my hips, making it good. He grunts and as he finishes, and we collapse onto the cot together, his arms wrapped around me.
We spend a few minutes in silence. I can hear his heart hammering in his chest and we’re both drenched in sweat from the exertion.
I let myself enjoy this moment. I don’t think too hard about anything or wonder what this all means, I just enjoy the feeling of my head against his chest. That’s all that matters to me, and I don’t let anything else intrude.
We pass some time like that in silence. Finally, I feel him stir and I look up at him.
“Riley ...“
“It’s okay,” I say softly.
“I’m sorry.” He frowns at me. “For all of this.”
“I know.” I kiss his chest.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
I watch him, curious, and I can tell that he’s struggling. There’s something he wants to tell me, probably the truth about him, but some reason he can’t. I want to yell out, tell him he can tell me absolutely anything, but instead I just wait.
“Danger is coming,” he finally whispers. “Something is happening here. You need to be careful.”
I nod against his chest. “Okay.”
“Really. Riley.” He stares at me and I can see the intensity in his expression. “I’ll protect you as best I can, but if they come for you, don’t resist.”
“Okay,” I say again, a shiver running down my spine.
Gently, he disentangles himself from me. I watch as he dresses, wrapped in my blankets. When he’s done, he looks back at me.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says.
I nod once and then he disappears.
His warning sends chills down my spine again. If they come for me, I’m supposed to do whatever they ask of me. What if it’s something terrible, like he described to me? Maybe it would just be worse if I resisted, and he’s trying to make it as easy on me as possible. Or maybe it’s more horrible than that and he knows they’re coming for me, but wants to soften me up.
No, I can’t think that. I can’t get sucked back into that. Logan is on my side and that’s the decision I’m making. I’ll do whatever he says because I know he has my best interest at heart.
I lie back on my cot and close my eyes, hoping that his worst case scenario never comes about.
22
Logan
It’s more than just sex. It has been since the beginning, but that’s just becoming incredibly clear to me now. Maybe I’m a slow learner, but I’m starting to see just what I’m willing to risk for Riley, and what that means for me.
The next morning, I’m still puzzling over my situation when Miguel finds me at breakfast. I’m sitting there, minding my own business, when he looms over me and doesn’t smile.
“Anton wants to see you,” Miguel says.
I glance up at him. “Tell him I’ll be there when I’m done eating,” I say.
“Now,” Miguel answers.
I sigh. I didn’t think that would actually work, I just wanted to test him. I can tell based on Miguel’s expression that this isn’t going to be a fun visit. I prepare myself, glad that I’ve been carrying my small pistol tucked in my pants for the last few days.
I stand and follow Miguel. We walk without talking, though I try to offer him a cigarette. He even refuses that, which does not bode well for me at all.
Anton is in his usual room. There are a few girls lined up along the wall, but they’re more like decoration than
anything else. Anton is sitting alone on a couch with two thugs guarding the door. They glare at me as I enter.
“Boss,” Miguel says. “Logan here.”
Anton looks back over his shoulder. “Thank you, Miguel. Go watch the wall now, please.”
Miguel nods and leaves the room. I stare down Anton, wondering what he’s all about here. I doubt he’s going to kill me, since he could easily just do that at any point.
Anton smiles and walks over to me. “Logan, Logan, Logan,” he says, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
I cock my head. “What’s this about, Anton? I’m busy today.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He grins at me. “Fucking your little pet is probably very tiring.”
That sends a chill down my spine but I keep it together.
“Training her,” I say.
“No, Logan. You’re not training her. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were in love with the bitch.” He laughs, confirming my suspicions that they were watching and listening. Anton looks over at the girls near the wall.
“You know how I trained her?” he asks, pointing at a brunette girl.
“No,” I say.
“I burned that one. See, she didn’t want to break. She thought she could hang on. So I burned her, left some real bad scars. Broke her, but ruined her worth, you know? Nobody wants a scarred whore.” He grins at me and I want to hit him. “Except for me, of course. I decided to keep her. She’s exceptionally good with her mouth, you know.”
“I understand that you don’t like my training methods, Anton. But I’ve done this before. I know what I’m doing.” I’m not sure if bluffing is the right move here, but it’s all I’ve got at this point.
“Maybe,” he says. “I checked with our bosses, the Russians. They still vouch for you, which is why you’re not dead yet, but what you’re doing does not look like training.” He walks over to the couch and sits back down. “Come here, Logan.”
I walk over and stand next to the couch. He motions for me to sit, but I shake my head. He just shrugs and turns the television on then hits a button.
A video starts playing, a VHS tape judging from the sound and quality. The screen shows a young girl, one I’ve never seen before, tied down to a chair. She’s naked and afraid, staring at the camera.
A man walks into the frame. He dumps a bucket of freezing cold water over her head, making her nipples hard. She starts sobbing.
“Why are you showing me this?” I ask Anton, trying to keep the disgust from my voice.
“This is training,” he says. “Just watch.”
Another man steps into the frame. He’s young, maybe in his early twenties, and after a second I realize that it’s Anton. He approaches the girl, cups her chin, and whispers in her ear.
When she shakes her head, he hits her, hard, in the jaw. They repeat this three times until she’s sobbing and finally nods her head.
He begins to take off his pants and takes out his dick. I look down at the real Anton.
“I don’t need to watch you get your dick sucked,” I say.
“You sure? This is the best part.”
“I’m sure.”
He shrugs and turn off the tape. “So, you see.”
“I saw you as a young kid hitting some helpless girl and then forcing her to suck your dick.”
“Training.” He grins.
I sigh. “You think that shit really works?” I ask him.
“I’ve trained thousands of girls. It works.”
“How long do those girls last?” I ask him.
He pauses. “A year or two,” he admits.
“A year or two,” I repeat. “Girls with ten good years in them last a year or two. Your method makes them into bombed out abuse victims. My method makes them into loyal, obedient fuck dolls.”
He stares at me, eyes narrowing. “Are you criticizing me, Logan?”
“No,” I say, trying not to laugh. “I’m trying to make you understand that while my methods are slower and different, they have much, much better results. Girls I’ve trained five years ago are still alive and still fucking today.”
Lies, all lies, but I need him to believe me. There’s not much time left in this mission, but I need to hang on as long as possible. It’s the only way I can ensure Riley’s safety.
“Listen to me, Logan.” Anton stands up. “I don’t trust or like you. That’s the truth. We have one week before the next shipment, and I want your girl ready. Do you hear me? I want her broken and ready to get to fucking work.”
“She’ll be ready,” I say. “We’re nearly there.”
“If she’s not ready, I’ll take her myself. And I’ll break her. And I’ll use her for a few months before discarding her.” He grins at me and I suppress my rage. “Do you care if that happens?”
“No,” I force myself to say. “It would be a waste of a good product, though. She’s going to be perfect.”
“She better be.” He nods at the guards and they come over toward me. He turns and sits back down on the couch. “You’re dismissed, Logan,” he says.
I leave, flanked by the guards. They stop at the door and I keep going, heading back to the mess hall to finish breakfast.
I can’t seem to decide what that meeting meant. But the idea of Anton taking Riley personally terrifies and enrages me even more than I thought was possible.
I know it’s time. I can’t keep putting this off. We’re so close to this raid happening, and Riley needs to know.
I make the decision and head in to get her breakfast, planning how I’ll do this the right way.
23
Riley
The next day is like every other day, except for two things.
First, I sleep in late, and Logan doesn’t bring me breakfast until after the sun has been up for an hour or two. Normally, he’s waking me up at the crack of dawn with food, although he never stays. This time, breakfast was a little later, and I got to sleep for an extra hour or two.
That’s not strange in itself. The second odd thing happens when Logan brings me lunch.
I’m lying in bed, reading a book and trying not to let the boredom overwhelm me, when the door unlocks and opens. It’s Logan at the normal time. I sit up and smile at him, but he just shakes his head at me.
Curious, I go to say something, but he holds up a hand. He looks down at the tray, at the glass of water, and then back to me. He places the tray down on the cot and then he leaves.
I sit there for a second, trying to understand what the heck that was supposed to mean. I look at the tray itself and notice something under the glass of water.
It’s another note.
Riley, they’re listening. We’re going out again tonight. I won’t stay for dinner, but I’ll be back later. Logan.
I read and re-read the note, savoring his handwriting. It’s more or less a masculine scrawl, exactly what I would have guessed, and it feels good to see someone’s actual writing. It’s almost like I’m a normal person again.
Except I have to crumple the note and flush it down the toilet. I don’t want to risk anyone else seeing the note. I’m full of hope all day long after reading it, excited that we’re going outside of the walls again.
I can’t assume he’s going to let me go this time. I’ll only be extremely disappointed when he inevitably brings me back inside, and I can’t handle more disappointment like that. It doesn’t matter, though. Just getting outside these walls is going to feel so good.
I’ll get to feel the sand between my toes and the saltwater on my feet. I can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day, excitement coursing through me.
Just like he said, Logan brings me dinner but he doesn’t stay. He comes and goes like he always does with nothing more than a smile and a nod. I smile back, hoping he understands that I got the note and I know what’s happening. It probably doesn’t matter either way, but at least I know to be quiet when he comes later.
I’m restless as hell after dinner. I
try and concentrate on reading, but it’s impossible, not when I know that Logan is coming back. The sun sets and night drops in, and time begins to move as slowly as possible.
I can’t keep track of the hours very well. All I can do is watch the moonlight slowly shift outside of my window and guess at what time it is. That makes the hours pass both faster and slower, if that’s even possible.
That’s the hardest thing about being locked in a cell. It isn’t the restriction, or not exactly. It’s the boredom. Having absolutely nothing to do for hours on end is incredibly maddening. Outside in the real world, we’re constantly busy, districting ourselves from everything. We watch television, we work, we go to the movies, we do basically anything to keep from falling into utter and total boredom.
But being locked in a room means you’re always bored, and that’s the real torture. You’re forced to come to grips with yourself and sometimes, it’s not pretty.
For me, it’s accepting how I feel about Logan that’s the hardest thing. It’s so easy to sit around and obsess over every little detail, since that’s all I really have. The books and magazines help, but they don’t take the boredom away completely. I have so much time to sit and think, and all that introspection is exhausting.
I’m lost in one of those introspective spirals when I realize that it’s probably after midnight. The moon is getting lower in the sky as it moves out of orbit. I perk up when I hear footsteps coming down the hall toward me.
The door unlocks and slowly opens. Logan steps inside quickly and looks at me. He holds one finger to his lips and I climb out of bed.
He takes my hand and we leave the room together. We follow the same route we followed before, but this time he makes sure we don’t run into anyone. It takes a little bit longer, but it’s way more exciting than the first time. He’s cool and collected, like he’s done this before, and I can’t help but find him more attractive than ever.