I hung out in the lobby and pretended to be looking for something in my purse while two Doms were checking out at the front desk. They seemed safe to walk outside with. As they walked away from the counter, I pretended that I found what I was looking for and started to walk out ahead of them. My shoulder hit the doorframe, and I dropped my keys. I bent down to pick them up, and the heavy door to Seven smacked into me, pushing me forward and onto my knees.
“Whoops, you okay?” one of the Doms asked as he rushed over and pushed the door off my legs.
“Yes, thank you,” I said and started to stand.
They walked out with me and made polite conversation.
“Did you have a scene here tonight?”
“Yes, with Colt.”
Both men slowed their pace and looked at one another then back at me.
“You scened with Colt Grantham?”
“Yes.”
One of the guys hollered over to the valet attendant and asked if Colt had left yet. The attendant confirmed that Colt was already gone. The men looked at one another and then back at me. It was getting awkward, and I decided to shove off before their cars appeared. If they left before I got to my car, then I’d be left alone to face the woods.
“Goodnight,” I politely said and turned toward the fog ridden parking lot and stopped.
“Hey, we’ll see you out to your car,” one of the Doms said as they fell into step with me.
“So, how did you enjoy your scene with Colt?”
“I really liked it.”
“Yeah? Are you feeling okay to drive?”
“Of course. I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
I pointed to my car and unlocked it with my fob. I thanked them for walking me to my car and got in. As they walked toward their waiting cars in the valet section, I heard their words crystal clear.
“Fucking amazing. Colt didn’t break that one tonight.”
I frowned.
“It’s because I’m already broken,” I said in the safety of my car.
I began my long journey home and processed the evening on the way.
Since my first scene with Colt, I had gone through a plethora of feelings. I had gone from extremely high, to extremely low.
Chastity and Wade had been keeping a close eye on me, which started making me feel like I lived at home again and in some protective bubble.
Why had the scene with Colt been so much different than other scenes I've done? I had never been affected by a scene like I had with Colt.
Though I’ve had plenty of spanking scenes, this was just so different.
He was different.
The drop though was harder to digest. I’ve had some sub-drop before, or maybe it was just what I had thought was drop. But what I experienced over the last couple of days, was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
I missed his firm grip and warm eyes. I missed the intensity he played with and how easily he controlled everything from the moment we stepped foot in the room. I missed him.
I had already gone through the disheartening thoughts that Colt might not want to continue initiating me, just like Ray. They both had completed a scene with me, though Colt’s was so much more fulfilling than the scene with Ray. Ray had seemed to be testing the waters with me, whereas Colt just seemed to know exactly how to navigate the waters.
Standing in front of the mirror, I examined my blotchy, red skin that my hot shower created. Moments ago, I had allowed myself to get lost in my vivid imagination and create mental images of Colt. I imagined him wrapping his firm hand around my neck as he fucked me, and gripping my hair tightly in his hands as I sucked on him.
I conjured up these images in my head as I rubbed my clit furiously. I had planned on just going to the edge and then stop, but the feeling washed over me so rapidly, and I came. Almost in the same heartbeat, all those images in my head vanished, and again I was left with sticky fingers.
“Dammit,” I said under my breath.
I pounded on my thigh with my fist, stormed into my bathroom, and pushed the faucet all the way over to where it lined up perfectly with the “H” that was etched onto the stainless steel.
While I waited for the water to heat, a distant memory crept into my head…
“Oh! Wait! Stop! It feels really weird…I think something is really wrong,” I said and tried to break free of the rope he had tied me to a tree with.
He was laughing at me and continued moving his hand.
“Give it a moment, Leda.”
I felt weird. Really weird. Then I felt a throb between my legs, and I tried to jerk my body away from his hand.
“No, I think something is wrong!”
I couldn’t see him; he had blindfolded me.
“Leda!” His hand slapped my face, and I lowered my head to protect it. “Be still!”
Suddenly, the pressure I felt between my legs went away, and I shook as he laughed.
“Wasn’t so bad, was it, Leda?”
I didn’t understand what had happened. Then he said something that really scared me.
“That was your body’s way of telling me that you like what I do to you. You can run and resist. You can lie to yourself all you want, and you may even believe it. Despite your protests, when you come, I know you like it.”
15
Colt
Hours later, I found myself drifting off to sleep sweet dreams of Leda dancing behind my eyes. Vaguely, I was aware of heavy rain hitting the roof wondering if this was going to be more than just a passing shower.
When I woke up the morning, the storm had already begun in earnest. Heavy rain had turned into a mix of sleet and freezing rain. The temperature had plummeted from yesterday’s warm of 60 degrees all the way down to 32 degrees. This was an unusual storm for this time of year. I stood in front of the window drinking my coffee enjoying how warm the cup was in my hand.
I thought of blowing off work today. With the howling wind and the ice, I had no inclination of trying to fight downtown traffic. A fine sheet of ice decorated the concrete, and little droplets of ice hung from the iron rails surrounding the terrace.
Quickly, I dialed the office, but listening to my voicemail I heard my secretary’s voice advising that everyone had already called off and was working from home.
Suits me just fine, I thought, looking forward to grabbing my laptop and taking my coffee in front of the fireplace. As I sat down to begin working, I recalled an autumn storm like this years before. Wincing at the memory, I fought back the urge to throw my laptop across the room and slam my fists into the wall.
“Colt! Get your fucking ass out here now!” The sound of my stepfather’s voice sent chills down my spine. Every time he bellowed like that at me I knew something bad was going to happen. I had come to expect his violent fits of rage, but dreaded them nonetheless.
I had drifted off to sleep. Looking at the clock, I saw it was after 1 AM. I knew he must be drunk. I wanted to curl up in a ball in my bed and pretend I hadn’t heard him, but if I didn’t get out there he might come inside and hurt my mother or sister.
“Colt!” He screamed. Damn, if he didn’t shut up he would wake them up. Then, my mother would go out there and he’d start hitting her too.
Quickly, I hurried down the stairs and out the back door. The light was on in the garage. The winds were howling, and the concrete was freezing cold on my bare feet. Little droplets of hard rain were falling on my head. I held my hand out and realized it was freezing rain.
“Colt!” His loud voice echoed in the wind. I imagined the neighbors could hear him too.
Slowly, I turned the knob on the garage side door. He spun around as soon as he heard the door open. His face was bright red his eyes bloodshot. I could smell the whiskey on him from several feet away. The wind swirled in through the open door blowing the trash around the garage.
“Colt, come here.” His voice was strong and brutal even though he was clearly drunk. He swayed slightly as he stood holding the edge of a metal trash
can.
I shuffled over to him keeping my eyes locked on his the entire time.
“Look into this trash can,” he commanded. Before I even gazed down into it, I knew what I’d done wrong. I’d forgotten to---
His hand shot out and clipped me in the back of the head.
“What’s wrong with this trash can, Colt?” He screamed. I rubbed my aching head. The large signet ring he wore on his right hand had cut my head, and I felt a tiny trickle of blood.
“It’s empty,” I muttered.
“Why is it empty?” He demanded, grabbing me by the back of my head twisting my hair in his hand.
“Because I forgot to take the trash out.”
“Wow, the kid’s a fucking genius! Look out, world, this kid’s a real winner!” Robert laughed at his own joke. His eyes still bloodshot began to water. His shirt was wrinkled, and he looked as though he’d slept in his clothes. My gaze darted up to the house hoping to see lights on, but it was still and dark.
He twisted my hair tightly in his fist pulling so hard it made my eyes tear.
“I’m sorry, Robert,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry?” He sneered. “That’s all you can say? Look at this fucking place, Colt. There’s trash everywhere! Now what am I going to tell your mother?” He threw his arms out gesturing to the two garbage bags stacked neatly in the corner. The only trash fluttering around was the few pieces of loose paper the wind had blown around.
Since when did he care anything about what my mother thought?
That dumb fucker. I hated him. At that moment, I hated Robert more than I’d ever hated anyone. I wanted to grab the hammer sitting on the bench and slam it into his face.
If only my dad was here…
Before I could move, Robert slammed me to the concrete floor. He fell on top of me pinning me to the ground with his knee.
“I know you and your mother think you’re a really smart kid, but Colt you don’t know shit about the real world. Coming from that fancy house you used to live in with your sick, twisted father, the Master Dom of some ridiculous club, you don’t know what it’s like to have to work for a living. I came up hard and rough from the streets of Detroit and I worked my way into college and earned my degree. I’m not about to have some snot nosed brat defy my fucking orders by not taking out the trash!” He screamed as he drove his knee even harder into my back. I heard a cracking sound and pain exploded in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.
Despite the agonizing pain, I was infuriated at the way he spoke about my father. How dare he say a fucking word about my dad. He didn’t know him. My father would’ve killed Robert if he knew what he was doing to me.
Still, Robert continued his tirade against my father. As far as I knew, they’d never even met. How the hell did he know anything about my dad? From my mother?
“Your father is nothing more than a pussy beating his wife. Did you know that, Colt? He used to tie her up and whip her. Claimed it was consensual. I think it sounds sick, don’t you?” He let out a weird giggle still twisting his knee into my back.
I wanted to jump up and kill him. I wanted to pound his face until it disappeared.
But I couldn’t do anything. I laid on the floor trapped beneath his knee struggling to breathe. Every time I inhaled sharp pains ripped through my chest. I thought he might have broken my ribs.
“Come on, boy, don’t you have anything to say?”
Glancing up, I saw the tires of his Mercedes next to me as my eyes traveled over it, the silver grills appearing to be like teeth flashing an evil grin. The pain in my ribs had settled to a sickening roar as I grunted my words out.
“Fuck you.”
Even though my words were muffled, I knew Robert had heard me. He sat poised with his knee in my back quietly for a moment as if he was trying to decipher if he’d heard me correctly. Just so that there was no mistaking it, I uttered the two words again.
“Fuck you!”
That did it. He jumped off of me immediately relieving the pressure on my ribs. I inhaled deeply, but stopped as soon as agonizing pain tore through my chest. I coughed up blood spitting it out on the cement floor.
“Get up off of that floor!” He yelled. Scrambling to my feet, I held my aching ribs with one arm.
“Follow me or else I will drag you.”
I thought about running out of the garage, down the street, and all the way to the nearest pay phone. I’d call my dad and he’d come get me. They would have Robert arrested.
But in the time it would take me to do all that, he could beat my mother or sister half to death.
Maybe even kill them.
Besides, who was I kidding? One or more of my ribs were broken I knew it. How could I possibly run in this much pain?
Reluctantly, I limped outside towards the house. The freezing rain had cast a thick glaze of ice over the concrete sidewalk making it slippery. I held my breath praying he’d fall. He did slip several times, but didn’t fall. It seemed as though roughing me up made him more sober and alert.
Robert threw open the back door and grabbed me by the back of the neck.
“Don’t you make a fucking sound, boy or else it will be you and your sister I punish.”
I swallowed my fear as I moved quietly. He pushed the door open to the basement where we crept down the steep steps. We walked past the washer and dryer and the place where my mom hung all our clothes. He was taking me to the back of the laundry room.
Gulping, I felt dread building inside me. The fear of where he was taking me superseded any physical pain I was feeling.
Unlocking the old wooden door, he motioned for me to follow him down the five concrete steps leading to the root cellar. A thick, musty old smell hung in the air. I sneezed several times trying to hold my nose to stay quiet. I remembered being down here once before with my mom and sister. There were several Mason jars on shelves lining the room. Mom had been canning peaches, and she explained to me what the old cellar was originally for.
“Back when this house was built, people used rooms like this for storing vegetables in the winter.”
“Why wouldn’t people just put them in the refrigerator?” I’d wondered.
“This house was built in 1850, honey. There were no refrigerators then.”
My mother had laughed.
Now, I was standing in the dark old cellar with its’ one dimmed light bulb swinging from a pull chain.
Robert ordered me to stand there as he left the room briefly. It was dank and dark in the room. The one light cast all sorts of eerie shadows all over the room. The smell of rich soil and old dusty glass jars filled the room.
Soon, he came back with a long wooden horse and a metal chair.
“Strip off your pants.”
I bit my lip and shook my head.
“If you don’t, I’ll rip them off myself, Colt. DO IT!” He pounded his thigh for emphasis.
Looking down, I quickly hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my pants. I dropped them and covered myself with my hands.
“Bend over that horse.” He gestured.
Shuffling over to it, I felt so ashamed. My dad wouldn’t let anyone do this to him. Why was I?
My mother and sister.
Sleeping upstairs peacefully.
That was reason enough for me.
Bending down over the rough wooden horse, I let my hands fall towards the floor. My ribs throbbed with pain.
I heard the familiar sound of him pulling his belt off. So, that was it. I was going to get the belt. I was used to it by this point, so I just gritted my teeth and waited for him to finish.
But that wasn’t all he had in store for me.
As the belt lashed my sensitive flesh, I felt blood run from my legs. Tears spilled from my face onto the dusty concrete floor.
After he was finished whipping me, he picked me up and slammed me down on the metal chair. He took a rope and bound my wrists behind my back.
“Now. You’re going to stay there until I come back. Don’t ev
en think of screaming. If you wake up your mother and sister, I’ll bring darling Christy down here too, and she can keep you company.”
I shuddered. My ribs and now legs hurt so much I couldn’t see straight.
“Along with the rats.” He laughed as he shut the door. I heard the lock turn as he locked me inside. Fear began to build inside me like a torrent of water behind a dam. I’d never been locked up like this. Thankfully, he left the light on, but its’ dim glow did little to illuminate the dark corners of the room.
After several moments, I tried to calm down to assess the situation. It wasn’t so bad really, I told myself. At least he’d left the light on, and my mom and sister should be awake soon.
Then Robert would really be in trouble once my mom found out he locked me up down here. She’d take my sister and me, and we’d leave this awful place. I smiled as that thought crossed my mind. It was worth the pain of the broken ribs and being locked in here if it got us all away from Robert.
The tiny nagging thought of ‘what if she doesn’t leave him’ was pushed back deep inside the recesses of my mind. That ‘what if’ was too much for me to handle right now.
Concentrating my efforts on loosening the ropes which were cutting into the flesh of my wrists, I heard a loud shuffling sound in the corner. I stopped what I was doing to listen.
Again, I heard the shuffling sound. I wanted to scream, but knew that if I did and Robert heard me, he’d make good on his threats.
Suddenly, a large brown furry rat scurried across the concrete floor directly towards me. I stifled a scream as it raced right over my foot! My insides recoiled as the rat’s body brushed against my bare foot. Its claws left small scratches on my foot. I stared down at the tiny trickles of blood oozing from the scratches. I fought the urge to scream and scream. The rat continued his run to the other dark corner of the room and disappeared.
Sighing with relief, I wondered just how long it would be until Robert or my mother came for me.
Several hours passed as I fought the pain of my ribs and the discomfort of being in the chair. Suddenly, I heard footsteps overhead. I held my breath as I heard the door to the cellar open.
Descent (Inferno Book 1) Page 9