Pushed

by Leah Holt

  “Stop, just stop.” Holding out my hand, I bounced it in the air. “None of that is true, I'm just not ready to bury my sister next to my father. Is that so bad? Is that such a horrible thing for me to want?”

  “Did you ever ask me what I wanted, Machi?”

  Thinning my lips, I watched her hands fiddle and tumble around the cup. She was coming down, her body was starting to feel the effects of withdrawl and it wouldn't be long before she tried to jump out my car and run back to the crack house.

  “What do you want, Megan?” I wanted to keep her talking, I wanted her to see what she was doing to her family and to herself.

  Because until she saw it, until she finally felt the pain she lived with, the pain she caused our mother and myself. . . She would be forever owned by drugs.

  Strumming her thumb along the rim of her cup, she took in a deep breath. “I have an opportunity, Machi, and I'm going to take it.”

  “Yes, yes you do. I'm handing it to you, I placing it on your fucking lap, so take it.”

  Slouching her shoulders, her hair fell over her face as she shook her head. “No, it's not you. Someone else gave me an offer, and to be honest, I don't think I can turn it down.”

  “What is it? Who gave it to you?”

  “I met this guy at a party last weekend, and he, he says he can give me a job. It pays good, I'll have a roof over my head and anything else I could ever want.”

  Laughing, I raked my hand through my hair and smirked. “Megan, come on. That guy was probably fucking with you, he probably just wants to get laid or something. No man out there, especially some asshole that hangs with druggies, is going to be able to give you that shit. He's full of it, Megan, you can't really be that stupid?”

  Veering her stare, her lips went taut. “I'm done, I'm out of here.” Grabbing the handle, she started to open the door.

  “Megan, come on, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that.” Reaching out, I held her arm, trying to keep her inside. “Don't run off, let me help you. You need help, you need serious help, and I'm here for you.”

  Shrugging me off, she climbed out of the car. “Thanks for the coffee.” Holding the door in her hand, she leaned inside. “Not everything is smoke and mirrors, Machi. Maybe sometimes, things are exactly what you think they are. Have a nice fucking life, Asshole.”

  Those were the last words she said to me, that was how we left it.

  I was an asshole.

  I never expected that I'd be making wishes for her to be right back where she was, with a needle in her arm and me holding her hand. What came after was far worse, it created who I was.

  Megan made a choice, she followed the breadcrumbs that lead her into a world she could never handle. She was right, not everything was smoke and mirrors, but most things that sound too good to be true usually are.

  And in the end. . . I buried my sister.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Imperial

  Eleven days, six hours, and forty-eight minutes. . .

  That was how long I had been stowed away inside the hotel, that was the time I had lost from a life I wished I'd see again soon.

  How do I know you ask. . .

  How could I possibly know when time was irrelevant in a world built off sex, greed, and control?

  Because I did; it was as simple as that.

  Call it a gut feeling, an instinctual knowledge that counted the time for me. But there were signs, small clues I was able to pick up on.

  I laid my head down ten times to go to sleep, but I hadn't seen the sun once. My eyes would pop open when the seagulls off shore started to squawk and chirp, letting me in on Mother Nature's secret of time without needing the hands of a clock.

  And while my ears kept working to figure out the days and piece together where the sun was in the sky, the rest of my worn and willowed frame struggled to stay together.

  I had shed more tears than my body could produce, no matter how much I told myself it would be the last time I cried. I screamed more obscenities than my tongue had ever formed before in my life, to the point it felt swollen and battered from the sheer force I had used to get them out.

  Those first few days I refused to back down. I taunted my captor, I put up walls and he kicked them down. I stood tall and firm, and he hammered me back into the ground.

  Then I gave up.

  I stopped trying to fight, I threw my voice back inside my head and kept it there for only myself to hear.

  Not because I didn't want to curse and yell, but because Machi had made me a promise.

  He had promised me my freedom.

  Machi moved through the hall like a stalking cheetah, watching doors and hallways as we passed. The strength of his back and shoulders teased my eyes, trying to tug them up, but I refused to let them win.

  Keeping my head on the floor, I denied my eyes their impulses, forcing them to watch dust billow across the wood floor and dirt blow out from under his shoes.

  I tried to forget about our one sinful mistake, but I couldn't. It sat there in my head, making my stomach curl with memories of pleasure, making my lips dry and needy for one more kiss, one more taste; he was a drug and I was suffering the withdrawals.

  “This is new for you, Imperial, I'm not sure what you're going to think.” Turning to face me, the tips of his toes lifted up, baring down on his heels. “Are you ready?” he asked, squeezing my hand and gently stroking his fingers down my cheekbone.

  Machi's fingertips brushed my skin, sending a wave of fiery swirls through my flesh and into my bones. His touch was toxic, unfurling my body and making my lungs struggle to catch the air around us.

  “You can look up, go on. I need to see what you're asking.” He knew I had questions, there were always questions and uncertainty in this world.

  Slowly, I lifted my head up, eyes flaring then hooding over.

  Do you really think that anything would surprise me at this point? As long as I'm safe, I trust you.

  Snuggling my hand into his palm, I let him caress my skin, allowing him to feel the words I couldn't speak outside my room.

  Placing both hands on my face, he pulled me in, kissing my forehead. “I'll do my best not to hurt you, I give you my word.”

  What the fuck does that mean?

  Staring down at me, he brushed his palms over my hair, tucking a loose strand behind my ear. “I can't explain it, you just have to experience it for yourself.”

  Closing my eyes, I let my head fall forward, giving him a light nod. I had already decided to trust him, that wasn't going to change; not with this and not with anything else.

  Machi made a promise to me and I promised him I would listen.

  Following him through another passageway, my toes felt the floor, trying to figure out what was coming.

  The hard wood turned into soft plush carpet, impressing my feet with sultry fibers of comfort. Delicate streams of small bulbs lined the wall and ceiling, twinkling like Christmas lights against a newly fallen snow.

  As I took in a slow breath, clean air settled inside my chest. It was different, fresh and soothing to not have the same recycled sex stench that coated every other area of this place sour my lungs.

  “I want you to close your eyes now.” Pulling me up to his side, his hand swept down my face, lowering my lids. Inhaling sharply as the lights dimmed, his palm curled around my ear, holding my head still. “It's not to keep you from seeing, it's part of what we're doing here.”

  Biting my lower lip, I nodded.

  “Let me have your hands.”

  Holding out my arms, he took my fingers in his, and held them for a moment. His thumbs circled the center of my palms as the heat off his body washed down my face and throat, holding me static.

  “I don't want you to be frightened about what I'm going to do next, consider it a new experience, a dip in the darkness that you won't have to endure forever.”

  Furrowing my brows, I tilted my chin up, keeping my eyes shut tight.

  A dip in the darkness? Wh
at the hell does that mean?

  “Trust me, Imperial, that's all I can say. If it becomes too much, you have permission to speak, to say one and only one word, White. Anything else you say, won't stop me.”

  Swallowing the lump that had lodged itself in my throat, I took in a long deep breath. I didn't want to be afraid, I didn't want to shiver on the inside from hesitation.

  Stop you from doing what?

  Trust was one thing, it was completely separate from the rest of my nerves that kicked up, wondering and anticipating what his next move was.

  Before I could nod or touch his fingers with mine to let him know how I felt, my wrists were wrapped in coarse, scratchy rope, jerked up hard and secured above my head.

  What are you doing? At least talk to me, tell me what you're doing so I know.

  My heart surged inside my chest, rapidly filling with adrenaline and shooting it through my veins. Yanking my arms, I twisted and tugged. Dropping down, I made every attempt to cut myself loose, to force the rope to peel over my hands and set me free.

  It wouldn't budge.

  “You're not going anywhere just yet.” Chuckling, Machi dragged his fingertips up and down the backside of my arm. “I can't explain this to you, Pixie. You have to feel it, you have to experience it with an open mind. But I'm here, remember that, I'm right here.”

  My feet itched to transform into wings, eager to fly high, to lift me to the ceiling and protect me from whatever he had planned.

  And while all the trust I had sworn I'd give him played on repeat inside my head, my body nudged and jerked to not be bound.

  I didn't want to be confined and strapped, unable to move, unable to fight or run if the need appeared before me cloaked in darkness.

  Frowning, I angrily dipped my brows and felt around the rope on my wrists for a knot. I don't like this, haven't I been trapped enough? Pushing out my bottom lip, it started to shake intensely the more I felt the heavy ties above my head.

  “It's okay, Pixie, I promise. It's just us here, no one else, just relax.” His finger tapped my chin, and slowly, ever so slowly, trickled down my throat, through the middle of my chest and over my naval.

  Sucking in my stomach, chills ran through my muscles, forcing prickles to rise off my skin. I could feel them jump, exploding one at a time as my flesh heated and cooled with just the touch of his hand.

  Machi had stopped talking, he had dropped his voice and replaced it with tactility. He was all hands, gently stroking and barely skimming my skin. Muscles clenched, lungs snapped and cracked, all my nerves had lit, firing off in a rapid dance around my brain.

  Then his fingers was gone, disappearing as he reached the trim of my panties. Perking my ears, I listened.

  For what? I wasn't sure.

  The silence was more than just a humble quiet holding me still; it was a hole that had gobbled me up, making me balance on a thin blade of fear. That fear threatened to slice my heels, to cut and maim me as I wobbled to keep myself upright.

  His feet whispered over the carpet, quietly tapping away and then near, behind and in front. And still, I did as I was told, I kept my eyes shut and my voice to myself.

  What is he doing?

  How long will this last?

  Jerking my shoulders, something had touched me, it tickled over my back and down my spine. It rolled around my midsection, circling my bellybutton and moving up towards my breasts.

  I tried to remain motionless, allowing him to explore my body, giving him permission to do as he wanted.

  But my muscles shivered and tingled the more he stroked my flesh with the weight of a spider web. I could feel it, I knew it was there, but I couldn't see it, I couldn't brush it off and wipe my skin clean.

  And somewhere inside, someplace deep inside, I changed. I wasn't nervous, I was curious, I wasn't afraid, I was excited.

  My nipples pebbled, my pussy clenched, my heart sped up; all while waiting for that touch to move and transform, to grow and evolve.

  I felt the rope tighten around my wrists as the creaky squeal of rusty wheels echoed through the room. My arms lifted higher, drawing tension on my shoulders, forcing me to balance on the tips of my toes.

  Breathing in slow through my nose, I bit my lip.

  No talking, unless it becomes to much for me handle.

  Why would he say that? Why would he request complete silence, but give me a single word. . . A safe word? Is that what it is?

  His hand swept over my lower back, tracing the curve of my hip as he stepped in front of me. Then it was gone, his fingers broke free, pulling away as suddenly as they came.

  I can take this.

  He isn't going to hurt me. . . He isn't going to hurt me.

  Machi pressed his toes to mine, forcing the heat off his body to melt over me. Every time he exhaled, I could feel it, every time he breathed in, I could hear it. His cologne wrapped around my senses, giving way to new crisp feelings and blackish cravings.

  What else are you going to do?

  What do you think I can handle?

  Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the flames in his gaze as he threatened to burn me with the heat of a million bonfires.

  Smirking, I held my head higher, inviting him in.

  His face steadied close to mine, his breath washed down my skin like hot silk, rolling across my mouth one lip at a time.

  I inhaled, filling my chest with his air. Allowing him to feed me the oxygen I needed to survive.

  Raking his fingers down my ribs, he curled them around my hips and lowered my panties over my thighs. Quivering in place, I felt the fabric break free, pooling around my ankles like a warm puddle.

  My body tensed as the cold air licked my sex, reminding me—warning me that this was not who I was. That this world had taken me from normal and shoved me into rapid flames of lust and dark desire.

  I was a toy, I was a student being taught for the devilishly greedy, who preyed on weakness and submission for their own satisfaction.

  And in all that torment, all that hatred I felt for what this world was. . .

  I enjoyed every second with him.

  A low moan escaped my lips as pure ecstasy wriggled through my veins, creating a version of myself I had never known. I waited for more, I wanted more.

  Rolling my hips, my back arched in, searching for his hands. I needed him to touch me again before I lost my mind. My lids shook trying to split wide, begging to see where he had gone, to know why he had stopped.

  The quiet seemed to grow louder, it fizzled and popped in my ears as I searched the room for Machi. But I couldn't hear him.

  Ice hit my backside, the sharp pain spiked over my skin, sizzling my flesh like hot pins.

  A scream tumbled out of my mouth as I jolted. And as the pain quickly dissolved, Machi's face was at my ear. His words were soft and quiet, but riddled with control.

  “Shh, Pixie, I'm still here. Just say the magic word if you want me to stop.” The paddle glided up and down my ass as he whispered. “But don't forget, this is all part of the game.”

  Game. . .

  Whose game—theirs. . . Or his?

  A second crack rained down, smacking my ass with the sting of an angry hornet's nest that had been poked one too many times. Screaming again, my nails bit into the rope, cutting between the threads.

  Fuck! I don't think I can do this!

  My tongue warped into letters, ready to lash out, ready to scream at him and ask him what the fuck he was thinking.

  But I held it in. I thought of the girl on the stage, I thought of her face and her moans when the man's strike landed on her skin.

  She smiled. . . She enjoyed it. . .

  Maybe pain and pleasure can mix, maybe I just have to reach that level where the two feelings blend into one.

  The idea gave me strength to keep going, it allowed me the determination to find out for myself what was on the other side of suffering.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, massaging my backside with a tender hand.
“Don't be afraid to call out, don't force yourself to take more than you can handle. You know the word, all you have to do is say it.”

  Thinning my lips, I lifted my head higher, straightening my spine one vertebrae at a time.

  “Good girl,” Machi said, positioning the paddle against my ass again. “Now let's give you what you want.”

  Slap after slap, he hit me with his wooden hand. Each time it hurt, each swing pulverized my skin into raw meat. But as the numbness set in, a new feeling came through it.

  The sting turned into tingles, the sharp twinge turned into electric snaps that rippled over my body.

  My screams turned from heavy and soiled into deep, amplified music. Torture was no longer torture, pain was no longer pain.

  Pushing my ass out, I dragged my tongue over my bottom lip, hoping Machi was watching. I wanted him to know that I was okay, that I had accepted this experience, giving in when he expected me to crack.

  “Fuck, Imperial.” His hard bulge crawled over my hip, taunting me with the cock I couldn't forget. “You're liking this and you want more. You have no idea how much that turns me on.”

  Smirking, I pinched my lids tighter, smiling wide with closed eyes. Wiggling my ass side to side, I provoked him, I placated his paddle with sexual arousal.

  That was what he wanted, he wanted to test me, he wanted to push me to the edge and see how far I could go. What he didn't expect was for me to take that leap.

  I had jumped clear off the edge, allowing the wind to carry me down, and the pain to lift me to another high.

  Growling, I heard the metal ping of his zipper and the shuffle of cloth down his legs. Pressing his engorged crown against my lower belly, he swirled the smooth tip around my delicate skin, stroking up and down.

  “Is this what you need now?” His teeth nipped at my collarbone, sending chills rippling down though my muscles. “What if I don't give it to you? Would you beg me, would you call out my name and tell me to fuck you?”

  Parting my lips, I moaned, rubbing my thighs together. But I still stayed quiet, I didn't answer his questions.

  Dipping his fingers between my legs, he pulled them apart, slowly running a single digit through my wet heat. “I don't even need to hear you speak to know what you want.”