This Is War, Baby

by K. Webster

  He sighs and kisses my forehead before setting me on the toilet. The cold lid soothes my sore butt and I try to control my tears. Gabe seems larger than life in this small bathroom. He’s every bit a ferocious lion and I’m his caged little bird that he wants to eat. I shiver at the realistic comparison.

  The bath begins to fill with hot water. I crave to climb inside and dip below the surface. To hide from the fierce animal that screwed me in the woods as if we were just that—animals.

  “Oh, baby, you hurt yourself. You’re bleeding.”

  My tears have stopped falling and my eyes find his. I can’t speak so I just stare at him. His brows furrow, almost angrily, as he kneels before me.

  “Baylee, I can’t lose you now. You’re strong and a survivor, remember? I was so proud of you out there. You accepted your punishment like a champ.”

  I don’t bristle. I don’t flinch. I don’t frown.

  I stare.

  “Snap out of it, sweetheart. Let’s get you bathed and then I’ll stitch your wound up. Then I’ll hold you in our warm bed, okay?”

  Our warm bed.

  Seems like heaven.

  A small whimper escapes me and my eyes tear up again.

  “There she is. Come on beautiful,” he says as he helps me to my feet. “I’m going to spoil you.”

  I want him to fix it.

  I want him to stroke my hair until I fall asleep.

  I want him to hold me while I dream terrifying dreams of him.

  While he’s the monster in and out of reality, he’s also the slayer of those demons. Somehow, he protects me from himself. It confuses me. I hate him.

  No, I don’t hate him.

  My eyes flick over to the mirror and I gape in shock. The blonde hair I used to straighten and spend hours on before school is now a wild, ratty mess. Dark circles hang below my eyes. Scratches litter my neck and chest from the fall in the woods. Blood trickles from my pouty lips and I frown.

  I look terrible.

  My eyes raise to the dark ones that seem to stare a hole through me.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Baylee. I want to live inside of you—your body and your mind. You affect some carnal part of myself that I never knew existed. With you,” he says and waves his hand in the air, “this is all different. Powerful and meaningful. You’re the one.”

  I nod and try to smile. It hurts the cut on my lip so I refrain. “So keep me, Gabe. Please. I promise I’ll make you happy.”

  His lips find my neck. “You already do make me happy. And though we may part, I’ll have you back in the end. I promise you, baby.”

  He consumes me. His scent. His touch. His words. I believe every word he says.

  “All better, sweetheart.”

  The shock has worn off and I’m exhausted. I could sleep for days. “Thank you.”

  He grins at me as he puts the medical kit away and climbs back into bed with me. “You’re welcome. You’re such a good girl.”

  Like a dumb little dog, I lean into him. He drags the blanket up over us and his arm curls around me in a possessive manner. His fingers stroke my hair and I close my eyes. This—this I can endure.

  “How does your ass feel?” he questions.

  I slide my fingers up his chest and sigh. “It hurts.”

  “Inside or out?”

  “Mostly out.”

  “The cream I put on there will help.”

  We remain quiet but soon he’s inside of me again, this time where it doesn’t hurt and I daydream. I think back to just a few weeks ago—when things in my life were almost perfect. Aside from my dying mother, I couldn’t have asked for much more in life. While Gabe has sex with me, I think about him.

  Brandon Thompson.

  My boyfriend.

  My love.

  I close my eyes and get lost in a memory.

  “What do you want for your birthday, Baylee?”

  I looked up from my history textbook and frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t need anything really.”

  He sighed. “I’d get you more jewelry but you don’t wear the tennis bracelet I got you last year very much. You’re impossible to buy for.”

  Leaning across the kitchen table, I flashed him a wicked smile and whispered. “You could buy me a dildo.”

  His eyes widened and he flicked his gaze over to where his mom Belinda chopped an onion. I batted my eyelashes in an innocent way. “What?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up into a half grin—the kind that showed his cute little dimple. I loved his smile. His eyes flickered with part amusement and part desire. The slight pink on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. But despite his shyness about our growing sexuality, I knew better. When we were alone, he touched me as if I was the most precious thing on this earth. I reveled in his sweet caresses and prayed he would take that final step soon.

  We were both ready.

  In fact…

  I climbed out of my seat and plopped down into his lap. Our studies were forgotten as I snuggled against him. This past summer he really filled out and I loved touching his newly defined muscles. He was hot and that’s part of the many reasons I wanted him to finally make love to me. I fantasized about it often.

  My lips found his ear and I murmured in my sexiest voice. “You could give me your present early.” He hardens beneath me and his breaths pick up. I loved that I turned him on, no matter what, but especially when I touched him or talked dirty to him.

  “You’re so bad, babe. Maybe I should give you birthday spankings early instead,” he murmured his threat.

  “Oooh,” I teased with a giggle. “Kinky.”

  He tickled me and I squealed.

  “Okay, you two. I thought you had a history test to study for,” Belinda chided from across the room.

  I groaned and slid out of his lap. “As long as I get a big slice of chocolate cake with chocolate icing, a huge glass of milk, and a kiss from my love, then my birthday will be complete.”

  He winked at me. “I can do that, babe. You’re so easy to please.”

  “If you only knew,” I said with a conspiratorial smile.

  We both knew what I really wanted for my birthday.

  “I’m going to take care of you, Baylee,” he dropped his voice low, “and soon.”

  A needy ache in my lower belly formed and I hoped he’d make good on his promise that we both knew had nothing to do with cake.

  “I love you.”

  I shudder and meet Gabe’s lust-filled eyes with a sad stare. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Brandon and I were supposed to fumble through our first time together. It should have been awkward. It should have taken him a few practice rounds to learn how to get me off. It should have been an act done in love.

  And it wasn’t.

  Gabe came in and shattered my perfect world.

  He ruined what I had with Brandon and stole from me.

  I’ll never have a life with my high school boyfriend because Gabe plans on selling me like an object. I’ll never escape him until then, because he’s a psychopath who will just catch me.

  He’s the enemy here and it’s easy to get swallowed up in his intense presence.

  But I won’t.

  I refuse to let this madman take away my hope and my memories. I’ll find a way to escape. Go to the police. Gabe won’t have me in the end.

  Until then, though, I have to make him believe.

  “I love you, too,” I lie and let the bitter tears fall so that I may pass them off as tears of adoration and undying love. “You have no idea how much…” I’m going to make you pay.

  “WHERE DO YOU want this?” I question in a low, bored tone.

  Her eyes widen in fear but she quickly forces the look away and meets my stare with one of indifference. “On my salad.”

  It’s been several days since I took her ass that first time in the woods. That night had been fucking incredible. Her pussy is tight but her ass? It was nearly impenetrable. After having he
r there, it’s hard to want to go back to her pussy. Now that she’s taken me there many times, she’s growing quite used to it which will only help her after the sale.

  “Smartass. I should whip you for that comment.”

  She swallows and drops her gaze to the blanket. “In my pussy.”

  I smirk, loving the sound of that word on her lips, and approach. “Sometimes men will want to use you together at once. How do you feel about that?”

  A choked noise comes from her and her frantic eyes meet mine. “I’m scared.”

  Quick as lightning, I slap her cheek. She has to learn. These men will not be nice to her like I am. “No, that turns you on.”

  She shakes her head in argument and holds a palm to her reddened cheek. “N-N-No! I don’t understand how that would—”

  “Bend over the bed. I’ll show you.”

  Now sobbing, she slides off the bed in no fucking rush and bends across it. “Please, Gabe. I’m scared.”

  Ignoring her, I grab the lube and pop the cap open. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ll like this. It’s no different than when I fuck you with the butt plug in.”

  She relaxes at my words and I smile.

  “Hold still, baby. This is a big one.”

  A sharp hiss of air comes from her as I begin to slide the now lubricated cucumber into her tight cunt. I’d bought the thickest one I could find and had frozen it. While it isn’t all that long, it will definitely do the job.

  “It’s cold,” she whines.

  “I’ll make you hot.”

  She’s still trying to adjust to the size of it when I lube up my cock and begin pushing it into her other hole. I’ve barely breached her puckered entrance when she starts clawing at the blanket.

  “Stop! It hurts. Please.”

  Fuck slow. She needs to learn. I grip her hips and drive into her as hard as I can. The cucumber gets forced deeper into her with the thrust.

  “Ahhhhhh!” Her scream is otherworldly and I love it.

  The pain that precedes pleasure.

  The love mixed with hate.

  The consent versus non-consent.

  All lines are blurred and I can hardly contain my orgasm. She feels so fucking good.

  “P-Please!”

  I shove her down into the mattress and slam into her over and over again. Colors swirl with black as I reach my most incredible release to date. It was her—it was always her.

  I’ll get her back very soon and we can spend the rest of our lives in this bed together.

  “Oh, fuck me,” I grunt and explode inside of her.

  She’s crying, and I realize I was so wrapped up in pleasure that I forgot to get her off. Sliding out of her, I frown to see the cucumber is wedged in deep and there’s not much to grab onto. Shit.

  “It hurts, Gabe,” she sobs and her knees buckle.

  “Shhhh,” I coo and scoop her into my arms. “I’ll get it out of you. Lie back flat on the mattress and relax.”

  She nods in a wild manner and does as she’s told. I gently spread her legs open and can see the rounded tip sticking out of her. My attempts to clutch onto it are futile because of how slippery it is and the way her tight pussy clamps down around it. I can’t get a good grip on it to pull it out.

  “Close your eyes,” I instruct.

  Tears stream from them but she clenches them shut. I begin massaging circles on her clit in hopes that if she orgasms, her body will contract naturally and send the cucumber out. At first she seems horrified but soon her hips begin squirming in need.

  “When you orgasm, bear down and it will come out on its own.”

  She nods and prepares herself by clutching onto her thighs. It’s as if this woman is delivering a child—the determination on her face is beautiful.

  “Oh!” she gasps as her body begins to tremble.

  She uses her orgasm to work it out, and before long, it slides farther. Once I can grip it, I slip it the rest of the way out and drop it to the bed below her. For a moment, her pussy gapes, glistening with lube and bright red from being stretched. It makes me wonder what else I can fit in there. Like my fist or an eggplant. Maybe some big, black fat dildo.

  The thought is intoxicating but I know it has to wait. I can’t very well make my girl bleed before I sell her. Tomorrow, she needs to be ready for whatever those men throw at her.

  “Let’s shower, baby. You have a big day tomorrow,” I tell her with a smile.

  Her eyes flicker with a furious glare before she blinks it away and gives me her sweet, doe eyes. “What’s tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow you’ll be the belle of the ball. Tomorrow I’m going to make a lot of fucking money.”

  “This place looks fancy,” she says in confusion as she looks out the window at the high-rise building in downtown San Diego.

  I turn off the car and affix her with a smug stare. “I wouldn’t sell you to trash, baby. These people are all successful, wealthy men. Only the best for you.”

  She reaches for the handle but I stop her by grabbing her wrist.

  “One more bit of training before it’s time.”

  Tonight she’s wearing a simple, flowy white gown that is sleeveless and hits just below her ass, showing off her sexy long legs. I’d also bought her a pair of white ballet flats because they’d seemed more child-like in nature than heels. My goal is to pass her off as the most pure and innocent little flower at the entire event. She needs to bring in the most money. I need this money.

  “But, I might get messed up and then nobody will want me.” Her voice is soft. Worried. Dark eyelashes blink innocently at me. Her full pink lips that have nothing but a shiny gloss on them pout out.

  She’s so fucking cute.

  If I didn’t need this money, I’d turn around and take her home right now.

  She’s mine.

  But for a little while she won’t be.

  “Baby, there’s still one thing you don’t know how to do. Let me teach you and then we’ll go inside. I promise not to mess up your hair,” I say as I touch the shell of her ear where a fragrant gardenia is tucked in her hair above it. “And you have more lip gloss in your clutch.”

  Letting go of her, I unzip my slacks and tug out my already hardened dick. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time and with her dressed so beautifully, I know it’ll be perfect.

  “Suck my cock. I want you to get creative. Taste me. Explore me. But don’t bite me or I’ll bash your fucking skull in,” I hiss out the last part before turning my charm back on. “When you feel me tense up, I want you to drink it all down. It will be salty and there will be a lot but I don’t want you to waste any of it. You’ll ruin my clothes if you mess up. Don’t mess up, Baylee.”

  Her eyes fill with tears but she nods with determination. The girl is terrified of what’s to come but she’s resilient. She won’t have to deal with this for very much longer and I’ll take her back.

  Then, all of her blow-jobs will belong to me.

  Her cunt will belong to me.

  That sweet, tight ass will belong to me.

  Only me. Forever.

  She slides her plump lips down over the tip of my dick and I groan in pleasure. With unsure strokes, she tugs at my shaft while she gently tastes it. Her tongue swirls around and her head bobs up and down slightly. She’s playing it safe though and that simply won’t do.

  “Sometimes, Baylee, you’ll have men that do this,” I snarl as I grab her hair roughly and shove her all the way down my cock. “You’ll have to learn to adapt. How to control your gag reflex. To take it without showing weakness.”

  Her saliva runs down and coats my balls. I hold her there, enjoying every tight inch of her hot throat until it clenches around me, her gag reflex taking over. Jerking her back off of me, I release her.

  “Don’t stop,” I snap.

  She coughs and sniffles but goes back to sucking me off. This time, she’s a little more enthusiastic and takes me deeper so I don’t need to force her.

  “Goo
d girl,” I praise and stroke her hair, “you’re doing so fucking well.”

  My balls tighten and I know I’ll come soon. With Baylee, I’ve dreamt about this moment for so fucking long—there’s no way I can contain my excitement. The polite thing to do would be to warn her that I’m about to come. But I’m not here to be polite. I’m here to train her.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as my climax explodes from me.

  She chokes and her fingernails dig into my cock but she doesn’t come off. With small swallows, she lets it all drain down her throat and doesn’t let any escape.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” I grunt. “You’re really fucking good at that.”

  She pulls off and lifts up to look at me. Her eyes are teary and red, her mascara is smeared, and her hair is tousled. Those plump lips have turned red and look raw. I’d give anything to drag her out of the car and fuck her over the hood right now. She somehow looks even more innocent than when I had her all dolled up.

  Tears are natural.

  Struggle is natural.

  Fear is natural.

  The bidders will take one look at her appearance and see not only an innocent girl, but a terrified little thing with hope still living in her eyes. They’ll crave to steal that hope. They will want to use her as I just did and earn the fear themselves. They will want her tears just like I do.

  “Time to steal the show, Baylee.”

  I SHIVER AS we stand in a long line that is efficiently making its way to the front doors. The building is impressive, all glass front and brilliant lights, and my fear diminishes a tiny bit. When Gabe had said he was selling me, I’d imagined some grimy basement with a bunch of disgusting men, cigars hanging out of their mouths, and bellies hanging over the tops of their pants. But so far, every man in the line is dressed exquisitely in black suits with pretty women dressed all in white at their sides. Albeit, most of the women looked drugged, are sporting bruises, or have a glint of fear in their eyes that mirrors my own.

  This is nothing like the movies though.

  And I’m thankful.

  These men seem reasonable. My chances for getting with a normal businessman and making a hasty escape are high—much higher than being trapped in Gabe’s secluded cabin.