Perhaps it was time to subtly tug at their bonds, to practice against two as I had against one.
Peta was the woman beside me. I’d heard her called by name. Every few spoonfuls, I looked to her, studied her. Her blankness seemed as much a challenge as anything. I had an odd sensation, as if I was a mere toe-wiggle of distance away from reaching her and knowing who she really was.
Violence. Buried aggression. Weapons training. The concepts drifted by. With that lithe yet muscular frame, that last wasn’t surprising.
Army. I blinked. This woman had been in the army.
How did I know this?
Maybe I was dreaming it.
Only one way to find out, if I could get her to talk.
“Don’t I know you?”
She turned to me, and I saw the shadows flicker and fall from her face, from her mind, quietly, as rain might evaporate in the sun. She truly saw me. Such a beautiful woman, and only yesterday I’d seen her twisting in ropes, being fucked by two of the guards.
It was what it was. Inescapable. Sadly.
“Who. Are you?” Slowly she lowered her fork to her plate, which it met with the clink of metal on china.
“Zorie.” I smiled. “I’m sure I’ve seen you before. In uniform? Army?”
“Oh.” For a second she just blinked at me, as if woken from sleep. “Yes. I left a few years ago.” Then she shrugged and gave me a dismissive grin. Strands of her blond hair wisped across her eyes.
Damn. That was amazing to see. I’d reached her. Somehow, I’d woken her from this trance.
I was here to save Cherie and suddenly I ached for those like Peta who I’d not even considered in my plans.
“Zorina.” Einar scraped back his chair and stood. “Why are you talking to her?”
Tread carefully. I frowned. “You said I could. Yesterday.”
“If you were good, but I haven’t said that yet. You are premature. Agreed Kaage?”
Kaage met my eyes, then grunted. His big hands landed on the table with a thump. “Yes. Agreed. You are different, Miss Zorie.”
Fear squirmed up to me, smirking, wagging its tail. Them calling me different stirred up deviant visions. Yet I was their prisoner, no matter what possibilities I could see for my future, or my new fearlessness of consequences. Okay, I feared, but I ignored it, when necessary. Maybe that was a bad move, this morning.
It was.
I ducked my head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”
“Yes. You should have. I think...I will say yes.” Einar nodded, his face screwing up, smug in his decision. “You may talk to Peta. First though, you need a lesson in manners.”
“I don’t like how she talks either.” Kaage also creaked upright, a monolith of a man. I swore I could hear the snap of his tendons and click of joints. His previous lack of engagement with me made this sudden concern scarier.
What had I done?
Been different was all.
These two monsters were staring down at me, and their men were also. And Grimm. A sexual miasma pooled in the air, filling the spaces, entering me effortlessly. I’d never quite felt it like this but now it was palpable, tasteable, smellable, by some sense I’d not been aware of until this moment.
I breathed with tense, shallow bursts, though I strained not to show anything, struggling to maintain my outward calm despite my insides tying themselves in knots.
“Every man here, stand.”
The sound of their chairs going back was a harshness that echoed in this room. Small, I was small, and shrinking fast. Whatever Einar planned, I wouldn’t like it. Tempted to stand up too, and glare, I didn’t. There must be no more bad moves, today.
“We start by reminding her of what she is. You’re not a woman anymore. You’re a fucktoy waiting to be sold, maybe given to Mister Grimm.” Kaage sniffed. Ironically my one thought was: Don’t they know Grimm is his first name. “Lie facedown on the table.”
I tried, oh yes, I tried. Resisting was my one aim. I feared too much to simply give in and the punishment for resisting seemed far, far away compared to whatever Kaage intended to do in the next few seconds.
A moment later, I cracked. I stood. My one uncommanded move was to push away the bowl and my glass of orange juice before I prostrated myself on the white linen tablecloth, lying in the puddle of juice from my toppled glass. Linen slid under my arms, making earthquake folds. I stared into whiteness.
That my eyes were hidden – nothing could’ve made me happier.
“I don’t like her attitude.”
I was myself, not a her.
“Her questions. Her talking.” Einar, this time. “If it weren’t that we have two clients interested in her because of her small amount of fame...”
“You said she was mine,” Grimm interjected, anger simmering in his words.
God help me, I smiled at that. Grimm had impressed me and I needed someone on my side. He’d promised to remember who he was, no matter what happened.
I needed a friend. Sadness threatened to make me tear up. No, not here. Not now.
“She will be yours, if all goes well. If it goes badly, we sell her. Prove yourself.”
Did I know this? That Grimm could have me on their say-so? I wasn’t sure. They might’ve said. It mortified me as well...as other things I refused to contemplate. Grimm wanted me. I had known that. Being wanted, sexually, by such a man, it might’ve made me run a mile, once upon a time.
No more words were said, but I felt the mesmer commands knit themselves between my thoughts, sidling in, wriggling in. Nasty, foreign things, but I couldn’t eject them. Panting in frustration, I stretched my hands over my head, pushing them past the cutlery and sauce bottles, the salt and pepper shakers, until a man’s hand clamped over my wrists, and pinned them to the cloth.
Trapped.
As if I ever had the smallest chance of going elsewhere.
“You may all take her, wherever you wish. Whichever hole you wish to use.”
I clenched in at that, my pussy responding with a little delicious, quivering frisson. I stared at the table, hoping maybe I could vanish.
Einar went on. “Three strokes each. Once she’s seen all of you are allowed to fuck her, we will see an improvement in behavior.”
Someone lifted the skirt of my dress, exposing me. The sound of condom packets ripping made me tremble. All of them. All. Looking them in the eye after this was going to be horrifying.
The men moved about the table. I’d shut my eyes but could hear them walk. Most ended up behind me.
“We will make this a lesson in training also. Waste not, want not. Hmmm?”
Arrogance leeched through his voice.
You bastard. If ever I got the chance to wipe that smugness off Einar’s face, I would. Preferably with a shotgun.
Spread your legs. Not words, thoughts. That command sent my arousal soaring. I hated liking this. Don’t wriggle, don’t, I told myself, but I did that too.
I wriggled, I squirmed. Despite knowing how moist my panties were, I spread my legs far apart and abased myself. My mons did a grinding, hard, shimmy onto the table, as I imagined what was coming. The men taking me, their thick cocks surging in, splitting me.
Need came tangled with mesmer commands as elegantly as a tentacle fucking a mermaid.
The words of the men, their deep rumbling voices, their scent, their hands on me as they tore off my panties and cut the dress away with the serrated steak knives. They dragged the cloth from under me, until I was naked...until I was smothered in lust.
I could barely breathe through the heat, the thud of blood in my temples and chest, the dribble of my moisture from my cunt, oh how I’d grown to love that word, or the mounting ache in my sexual parts.
Even my breasts, where they squashed painfully into the table, reminded me of my sex. I suffered in an endless loop.
The first cock was forced into me and I moaned as he counted out one, two, three, jarring my body.
A man climbed onto the table, str
addled my pinned arms then cranked back my head until he could find my mouth with his fingers. With his other hand, he masturbated, as he watched me be fucked. Two or three men took me from behind while he worked at himself.
If I could count, I could figure how many. The counting part of my brain had gone elsewhere.
Fingers in my mouth. Cocks in my pussy. I strained back, arching, while those fingers played with my tongue.
So good, so good. I groaned. Lust wasn’t something voluntary. Never had been with mesmers.
How could I ever forget?
I just. Needed. To. Give in.
“That’s it. That’s it. Suck on them. Get wet. Now take this, bitch.”
The man with the fingers stuck his cock between my lips. I’d kept my eyes shut but his thumbs found my lower eyelids and he dragged them down, forcing me to see him.
One stroke shoved deep. I gargled and tried not to throw up.
“Oh yeah. Only use for your mouth, slut.”
He pulled out and wanked some more.
Two more strokes and he came in my mouth, then he dismounted from the table, leaving me spitting, bubbling cum.
Blood and sex. Blood and sex and cum. Inextricably entwined.
Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Possibly I whispered and moaned that out loud.
Nothing beat wanting men to sheath themselves in you when you were already mindfucked.
“Now she’s going.” Men laughed. “No more talking now, hey?” A slap hit my ass. As my flesh stung and rebounded, my pussy felt the effects of the blow as if it had been targeted. “Look at that wet cunt.”
“Stick it in, you slow bastard.”
“I need seconds.”
I listened but nothing made sense.
When I bothered to open my eyes, I saw white cloth. I screamed as another man drove into me, not from pain, no. I was almost coming, from the judder of hard table on my clit and the slide as he jammed in harder. From the diabolical drag of mesmer tendrils through my perverted mind. I began to try to count, dreading the emptiness between each trio of fucks.
“One, two, uhh.” This one could count. Grunting, then a man’s weight squashing me as he leaned into my ass, his cock twitching inside.
“My turn.”
The cock withdrew and...emptiness.
How many were there? How many guards?
I should be me. Remember? My plea swept in then left as abruptly when a new man grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me up to stare at him.
Took me a moment, I was too absorbed in the latest cock forging inside me.
Grimm.
Knight in cracked and bloody armor. I recalled his words as he presented his cock to my lips and stared at me, frowning, his hand wrapped tightly around the shaft. He willed me to take it.
It grounded me. I drifted awake, aware. I knew.
If not him, it’d be someone else.
I moistened my lips with my tongue, watched him as he watched my mouth. So intent.
“Open, miss prettiness.”
A compliment. I glowed. In the midst of this impromptu orgy he reached me with a compliment.
Mesmer played at his edges. He had the aura. Almost, but not quite there. Grimm had mesmer at his fingertips, same as his cock nudged my mouth. Only, he wasn’t using it to force me.
Strange.
I opened my mouth and he slid in.
Gagged by cock, I could only look up at him as he slid further, then stopped three quarters of the way along my tongue.
We breathed together, absorbed in each other’s gaze, as some other man fucked me.
“Fuck her ass,” someone urged.
The next man inserted himself into my ass, coaxing me wider, sliding in until I had to choke out my distress and my perverse pleasure around Grimm’s cock.
“You can take it,” he murmured. You’re mine, I read in his stone-fierce gaze, as clearly as if he’d said it out loud.
So that was what this about...
He withdrew, and slid between my lips again, across my tongue, and into the depths where I’d choke any moment.
I spluttered as his cock triggered my gag reflex.
“Don’t.”
My throat quieted, stayed wide, and I stared at him.
This was Grimm staking ownership. This fuzzy feel of happiness was so out of place, here, now.
I hummed around his cock, in a sort of stunned yes.
That didn’t count. Wouldn’t. This was false. How dare he be....be nice. I could tell tricks. He was making me like him, somehow. It was a mesmer trick.
Tears squeezed thickly from my eyes. Then he pulled out enough that I could haul in a ragged breath.
My eyelids fluttered and I gasped, as another man drove into my ass, subtle as a truck.
That shouldn’t feel so good, but my clit expanded, swelling with the awareness of an oncoming orgasm. I shook, pinned, made to feel. There was no choice in this and I recognized the telltale sign of Einar making me, just before...
An orgasm fucked with my head.
Shuddering, spine bowing, muscles in lockdown, I rasped, low in my throat. Coils of mesmer played, flirted, stirred me into nonsensical babblings.
Calm descended in a foggy blanket.
I groaned, realizing that my mouth was bereft of cock because Grimm had withdrawn while I climaxed. For the best. I’d likely have bitten him.
If not him, someone else. My forehead met the table with a bump.
“Stick it back in, Grimm. If you come, she isn’t yours. We’ll count to fifty.” He laughed, low, menacing.
Was that Kaage making that ludicrous claim?
A microsecond before they both, Einar and Kaage, reinforced that one command, I knew what was about to happen.
Then...
My mind pretzeled into a mess.
The cock invading my mouth, it was my task to make the owner of it come. I applied myself, tongue and teeth and throat. I sucked with gusto. Slippery cock, swelling cock. Mine to tease. The groans of the owner made me smile around his thickness, as he slid along the wet runway of my tongue.
One, two, three, four. Someone counted as Grimm commenced to fuck my mouth. On twenty-one, I felt the tremor and swell in his shaft that meant a man was close to coming. On forty-five, I felt it again and I hummed in pleasure. On forty-nine, I knew he wasn’t going to hold out for the whole fifty. Eyes rolled upward, I watched Grimm toss back his head groaning.
I writhed, overcome by the sense of this impending orgasm from this man who had his fingers sunken into my hair and my scalp so he could direct his cock precisely into my mouth hole, where he needed to stuff it.
The outstroke made me squeeze my thighs together. Soon.
His cock felt twice as thick as it re-entered. Soon cum would fill my mouth.
Fifty.
“No!”
I could tell his teeth were gritted as he denied, denied the need. I knew that need, intimately. I felt it stream molten through his mind. Felt it ram from him to me. I screeched. I jerked into the table, mind-blown, thrown into a new orgasm, teeth snapping shut as his cock yanked from my mouth.
Coming. My eyes jammed together, ensnaring me, wringing me out, making me shake, making me...
Fuck.
Shivering, I pooled onto the table like some melted creature.
Someone released my wrist. I heard the fumble of limbs, felt his forehead rest beside mind, heard the gasps of his breath.
“You didn’t come, Mister Grimm?”
Einar? Time had flatlined. Things were fuzzy.
“No,” he grated out. “I didn’t.”
I had a notion that Grimm had forced his orgasm into me. Another violation.
One I didn’t mind. Or not yet. I lay there, a puddled mess, and only wished we were alone so I could truly sort out what was happening in my head.
Chapter 18
Zorie
Curling up in a fetal position on my bed seemed the best thing to do. They left me alone, as they seemed to when something ha
ppened that reset one’s mind extravagantly.
What the fuck was I doing here?
The question ran around in my head, screaming, though I only lay there blinking, with the occasional tear wandering from my eyes and across my cheeks, my nose.
From Reuben, I knew how madhouse things could get with mesmers. I should go. Escape. Three days was too much.
I should fucking go.
And yet...
Cherie. She was here, or she had been here.
The need to save her was thick, clingy, ever-present.
I should stay.
A memory popped up – a gruesome one of that swinging victim. I remembered something standing just within the pool of light surrounding that scene, and was sure it had been the tops of the handles of a pair of boltcutters. What they might be used for, I didn’t want to consider. If I could find that room, if it were on the other side of that black glass, I could cut Grimm loose. Then he could lead me out of here.
That room had been locked. Maybe if I persisted, one night I would find it open? Because, really, the chances of Grimm cutting his chains off that wall point were small. Even if he could, I’d be insane before then. I could feel the creep of darkness inside my head. The games Einar and Kaage played weren’t just sexual.
Yet I was scared to go out into the corridors. If that person had been dead, what was happening here was on a far worse scale than what Reuben had done. Even if they weren’t dead, if that had happened here, that red stuff had looked like real blood. Why pour fake stuff over someone?
Jeez. I didn’t have enough facts. I should stop meandering down logic paths that were really screwed up.
Grimm though. I had seen him, touched him. He was real and he was changing. More fucking facts that I lacked. To know what he wanted, what he meant to do, and not just those words he’d spouted at me, I needed to see inside his mind.
He’d stuck his cock in my mouth while the others fucked me. To save me from having my mouth fucked by them? Haha. Oh yeah, that so made sense.
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