by Celia Aaron
Something roared to life inside me. It ripped at my ribs and tried to claw through my chest. Jealousy. Petty, overbearing, jealousy. I took her hand from his.
Tony laughed and jumped down from the platform. He gave a salute and then cut through the crowd and out one of the side doors.
“Why did you smile at him?” The ridiculousness of the question hit me only after I asked it.
“Because he was nice to me and he clearly had no idea what sort of fucked up shit you all are doing out here,” She held my gaze, challenge in her bearing. “It’s not his fault you dragged him into it.”
“I didn’t drag him into anything. I paid him well to create art on your body, and that’s exactly what he did.”
She raised her eyebrows and straightened her back. “You think the taint of this place doesn’t rub off on people? You think he’s unscathed?”
I grabbed her by the elbow. “He’s a lot more unscathed than you’re going to be.”
“Fuck you.”
Shit. Her anger shot straight to my cock, even in the middle of this crowd of devils. Her eyes flashed at me in unbridled fury.
“In time.” I gave her the smile I knew she hated, the one that got under her skin.
She lifted a hand to strike me. I caught it and pulled it down, squeezing her wrist hard. “Do that again, and I’ll hit back much, much harder. Understand?”
I wanted her to do it again, to knock my mask off so she could see the real me, the one who wanted to make it hurt, to fuck her, to make her scream. Her fear was easier for me to deal with than her anger. Her anger made me want to push her further, to take her to the edge, to make her beg me for something, anything. Her anger spurred me on to break her. Her fear let me know I was getting close.
The music piped down, the circling vultures slowing to a stop as Cal climbed atop the central platform again. “All right folks, brandings are done. Looks like we’re ready for the big show.”
Masked servants rushed in through the side doors with various pieces of equipment and furniture. Whips, chains, clamps, dildoes, spanking benches, couches, and too many beds to count. Once everything was in place, a cavalcade of prostitutes entered through the doors. Masked and nude, there was something for everyone—thin, ample, old, and young; they stood like low-hanging fruit, ready for the taking. The ballgoers flitted out and picked this one or that one, dragging the choice morsels back to their chosen spot of depravity.
I glanced down to Stella. She stood mesmerized. She’d unconsciously stepped closer to me as the hall geared up for the main event. Now, she was frozen in her horror, perhaps unable to comprehend the well of the evil in this room. It was deep, far too deep for anyone to plumb its depths. Especially not her. Naiveté swirled around her like a priceless perfume. The vein at her neck fluttered in a distressed rhythm. It was beautiful, like the pale wings of a butterfly—and just as fragile.
The orchestra kept playing softly as the dance floor became a sea of debauchery. Only a center strip was left open. The parade route.
“Come on, Acquisitions, don’t be shy. Step on up. Time to really show us what you have to offer.” Cal was gleeful.
I took Stella’s hand and pulled her through the crowd, many of them already disrobing and setting on each other like wild animals. Fucking, biting, scratching. They left their masks on, as if it made any difference. The guest list was expertly curated. Any number of governors, wealthy socialites, business magnates, and others were congregated here tonight. The entire power structure south of the Mason Dixon was in this room, rutting like pigs and enjoying the show.
I dragged my sacrificial lamb behind me as she gasped at the spectacle all around her. Men and women clawed at her as she rushed past, their hunger bleeding over onto anyone and anything. Stella’s purity was like a beacon. I sensed it, too. I wanted to drag her down and feast on her just like they did. But that wasn’t what she was here for. Not yet.
We made it to the end of the cleared section of floor that bisected the entire hall and took our place behind Bob, Gavin, Red, and Brianne. The servants had quickly placed risers along the ground in a straight line so the walkway was elevated above the thriving mass of wickedness all around. Cries rose up and were drowned out by others. The orchestra continued playing as if nothing out of place were happening.
“Time to walk the walk, Acquisitions.” Cal was crowing atop the podium as one of the prostitutes sucked his cock.
I hated the idea of him seeing Stella, of any of them seeing her. She was mine. But I kept having to share her.
Bob pushed Gavin up the stairs. “Walk.”
Gavin obeyed, tentatively placing one foot in front of the other. Once he’d made it a little way across, he was emboldened, holding his head a bit higher, his shoulders back. It made sense. After all, walking was easy.
He picked up his pace. When he got to the end of the walk, he turned to come back. Two men grabbed him, stripped off his coat, and then ripped his shirt away. He started to fight them but stopped when one held up a cattle prod. The other one pointed back down the runway.
Stella trembled next to me as Brianne broke down into gut-wrenching sobs. Red grabbed her by the hair and shook her. She screamed, high and piercing.
Stella reached out, fast as a cat, and gripped Red’s arm, trying to wrest his grip from Brianne. Her small hands did nothing to stop him.
“Get your bitch under control, Vinemont, before I do it for you.”
I wrapped my arm around Stella’s waist and pulled her back. “Stop, Stella. You’re making it worse.”
She lunged at Red again as Brianne still suffered in his grasp. I held her back and away from him.
“What, you don’t like this?” Red asked and shook Brianne again. He used his other hand and ripped down the back of her dress, leaving her top fully exposed. “What about this? Stella, is it? Do you like this?” Red ripped her dress again until the fabric fell to the floor.
“You, son of a bitch!” Stella cried.
“Oh, look over here. We have a wild one.” Cal’s voice grated on my ears as it boomed around the room.
I put my hand around Stella’s throat and squeezed until she fell back against me gasping for air.
“Stop fighting,” I hissed in her ear.
“Motherfucker. You, motherfuckers,” was all she managed to get out.
Red sneered and stepped toward us.
“Back the fuck up, Red.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll stomp another mud hole in your ass, same as I did at your sister’s wedding last year. Remember that?”
“Fuck you, Sin.”
“Right back at you, Red.”
He returned to his toy, palming her ass so hard it had to hurt as she waited her turn. He leered at Stella as he did it, but she didn’t make another move.
“You’re all best friends, aren’t you?” Stella’s voice was quiet. “You’re all the same. Let me go. I’ll be good.” She put an acid inflection on the last word.
Her comment should have stung me, but it was true. Red and I were the same breed. He was just playing the game better than I was at the moment. That would be remedied before the night ended.
I released Stella, but stayed ready to hold her again. I didn’t know what Red would do if she actually managed to hurt him. It wouldn’t be pretty. Not that I’d let him hurt her. That wasn’t his right.
She stood in front of me, careful not to touch me. The back of her dress was open so I could see her smooth skin. She was so pale against the deep green of the dress. Flawless, radiant skin. I stared, knowing that it would never look this way again, not after tonight.
Gavin was on his final run, fully nude and halfway across the walkway back to us. Men and women rose from below to touch him. I froze at the thought of one of them touching Stella. But they would. There was nothing I could do to stop them.
“Go on, whore.” Red pushed the shivering Brianne up onto the walkway. She wore only heels as she made her way between the revelers.<
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Many rushed to her, their fingers reaching to touch her pussy, her ass, her tits. Towards the middle, one man actually pulled her down and threw her on the nearest bed before trying to force her legs apart. Her scream blended with the others. Two servants approached and pulled the man off before setting her back on the platform. Now her shoes were missing and she was sobbing as she walked.
She made it to the other end and tried to stay there. It took a near miss with the cattle prod to get her moving again. By the time she made it back to us, her makeup was streaked from tears and her body shook with sobs.
“Again,” Red demanded.
She shook her head. Red advanced on her with a menacing step.
“Go, just go. Get it over with.” Stella urged the girl to pass through hell one more time. “You can do it. You have to.”
Brianne focused on Stella who was nodding at her, encouraging her.
“I’ll be here when you get back, okay? The faster you go, the faster it’ll be done. And then it’ll be my turn.”
Red turned and put two fingers to his mouth in a ‘V’ before sticking out his tongue at Stella. “I can’t wait.”
I wanted to take out his knees, pound him into the ground, and then piss on his fucking corpse. Stella ignored him.
Brianne took the steps back up and made her final pass, far more quickly this time without heels. When she got back, Stella moved to embrace her but Red cut her off.
“Excellent work, whore. Maybe I’ll only beat you once tonight.” He turned to Stella. “Strip, bitch.”
I hit him. I dropped him. I didn’t even think. I just acted. Mistakes always seem to happen that way.
He rolled on the ground, hands to his face. He pushed his mask off and felt around his eye. “The fuck, Sin?”
Shit. This was not the plan. Getting angry and decking one of our number was definitely not part of a winning Acquisition.
Cal’s laughing voice boomed over the sound system. “Now that’s a show, ladies and gents!”
Chapter Thirteen
Stella
Red picked himself up. He was shorter and smaller than Vinemont, but clearly angry. “You want to go outside?”
“No. But I may go over to your mother’s place and release some aggression later.” Vinemont smirked, clearly baiting Red.
Red swung. Vinemont backed out of the way easily and rushed forward, tackling Red to the ground. They devolved into a rolling, punching mass on the floor. I looked around. The nearest guests were focused on the fight. I took a few steps backwards, then a few steps more, then I was in the thick of the masked crowd. Some of them glanced at me and went back to their work. Others couldn’t tear their attention away from the fight.
I turned and ran. I had no thought except escape. It was as if a host of klaxons were ringing in my head, my heart, alerting me to the mortal danger. I cut through the reaching hands and past the servants around the edges. I ran through the first open set of doors, my heels almost going out from under me as I turned the corner. I sped faster until a man stepped in front of me. I slammed into his chest and he wrapped his arms around me.
“Going somewhere, Stella?”
I knew that voice. “Lucius?”
He dragged me sideways into an antechamber off the main hall and kicked the door closed behind us.
“The one and only.” He held me close to him, his hands pressing into the bare skin at my back. A deep emerald mask hid his face, but I could see his eyes, light yet piercing. “Where were you going?”
“J-just away from there.”
“Wouldn’t that kill your father?” He slid a hand lower down my back.
Guilt crashed down on me. I had run from pure instinct, just as if I’d pulled my hand away from the fire. I couldn’t do things like that. I had to leave my hand in the flames until it crisped and charred. My father’s life depended on it.
“Yes.”
“I could save you, you know?” His hand went lower, and slid beneath the fabric of my dress.
“What?”
“I mean, you’ll still be an Acquisition for a year, nothing to be done about that. But you could choose me. You could tell Sin you’d rather be mine.”
“You’re even worse than he is.” I tried to back away, but he held me fast and pinned me against his chest.
“Am I? Am I the one who threatened your father? Who prosecuted him? Who forced you into the contract?”
No. Vinemont had done all those things and more.
“See, Stella. I haven’t hurt you or trapped you.” His hand smoothed along my ass as he put his other hand at my chin and pulled my face up to his. “I could make this whole thing more bearable for you.”
“I don’t trust you.” My voice was so breathy, like he’d taken the air from the room with his seductive words.
“You shouldn’t.” He leaned down, his lips so close to mine.
The door burst open as Vinemont rushed in. “Stella?”
“Another time, then?” Lucius whispered to me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Vinemont rushed to me, a trickle of blood flowing from his busted lip. “Get away from her.”
Lucius released me. “I was just talking to her.”
“Like hell you were.” Anger rippled off Vinemont. “She’s mine, Lucius. Leave her alone.”
Vinemont stood behind me and wrapped a possessive hand around my neck. “Mine.” It was more of a growl than a word.
Two servants rushed in behind Vinemont.
“I think you’ll find this man doesn’t have an invitation. You’ll need to escort him out. Roughly.”
“Come on, Sin.” Lucius smiled.
Lucius’s snake-like charm didn’t work on Vinemont.
“Out.”
Each servant grabbed one of Lucius’ elbows and hustled him from the room.
“Later, Stella,” he called. His voice echoed along the now-empty marble hallway.
Vinemont turned me around so I was forced to stare up into his unmasked face. “Did he hurt you?”
“Did he hurt me? Do you even hear yourself?”
Oakman strolled into the room. “Come on. Can’t wait forever. The natives are getting restless for her walk and the rest of the festivities.”
“Just another minute, Cal, if you don’t mind.” Vinemont didn’t even turn to look at the host.
“That’s all you’ll get.” The gameshow host tone drained from Cal’s voice like water through a sieve. “Tradition can’t be broken.”
He shut the door behind him as he left.
“You can’t run, Stella. I’ll catch you. They’ll catch you.”
“The only one who caught me was Lucius.”
“And you were lucky this time. You won’t be so lucky again. Trust me.”
This was such a mindfuck. He acted like he cared one way or another what happened, but I knew all he cared about was winning this twisted competition. He wasn’t fooling me. No one was. Fuck him. Fuck all of them. I stepped away from him and walked to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To do my walk of shame. Are you going to help me out of this dress or what?”
I’d never seen shock on his face. If he weren’t a monster, it would have been almost cute. He followed me back into the ballroom, new debauches going on all around as the ballgoers got their second wind. I didn’t see the other Acquisitions.
Once lined up at the walkway, I reached behind me to unhook my dress. Then I realized I had no idea how Enid had put the thing on me.
Vinemont was at my back then, his fingers pulling the fabric together and unhooking the closures that must have held it together along the center seam. He moved his hands up to my shoulders and inhaled deeply before slipping his fingers beneath the lace straps and letting the dress fall to the floor in a feathery heap.
Cold air rushed over my body, and the nearest revelers stopped what they were doing to watch me.
Vinemont moved his hands down my sides, feeling my curves before
his hands settled at my hips. His breath was warm against my shoulder. His familiar scent was oddly comforting.
I took one step, and then another. I kept my head high as I walked. I fixed my gaze far across the room on one of the particularly beautiful chandeliers. Crystal drops hung from it, multi-faceted and shimmering despite the mass of human ugliness beneath it. It was untouched by the hideous inhabitants of the room. Maybe I could be, too.
I slapped away hands and fingers, refusing to let them degrade me any more than they already had. I ignored catcalls and whistles. When I reached the end, I turned and repeated my travel, glaring at Oakman as defiantly as I could. He stared back intently before unzipping his fly and motioning for one of the women below to “assist” him.
I dropped my attention and caught Vinemont staring at me, fire in his eyes like never before. He didn’t look down my body, just held my gaze as I walked, as if he were pulling me toward him with some strange gravity. I reached him and turned, making the circuit one more time under the watchful eyes and the grasping hands.
I reached the far end where a wrinkled man with a protruding erection waited for me.
“Ms. Rousseau, so pleased to see you again.” He grinned, a red mask obscuring his eyes, while his date for the night—a handsome man of no more than twenty—stood close behind him.
I knew his voice. My stomach flipped and soured. “Judge Montagnet?”
The judge’s date reached around and began stroking Montagnet’s cock, though the set of the young man’s mouth was less excited and more apathetic.
“Well, I must get back,” Montagnet said. “I just wanted to congratulate you. Keep up the good work, lovely girl, and I certainly hope the Vinemonts prevail this year. Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on your father for you.” He disentangled himself from the younger man’s grip and knelt down on all fours on a nearby divan. I turned my head away before I saw anything more.
The judge’s threat was a strangling vine around my heart, choking out any love or warmth, leaving only cold fear. I was foolish, so foolish for running. Never again. I was captured, bound by the invisible vise of these people, their power. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to turn. I scanned the crowd, wishing I could burn the chateau down on their heads.