I shook my head. “Every once in a while, but not really.”
“Do you miss the drugs?”
“More than you can possibly understand.”
I inhaled sharply when he opened the door. It wasn’t chilly outside, it was bitterly cold and I was naked.
I’d kept track of the days for a while, but had eventually given up on it.
“What month is it?”
“January.”
“I missed Christmas? And my family didn’t go to the cops?”
“You stole from your brother’s child and left without a word to anyone. They assumed this meant you knew where you were going and needed money to get there.”
The limo was already running and was warm. A large, burly man was waiting inside, and the other man got in with us, as well as another who’d walked us from the door to the limo.
Bran helped me in, but I couldn’t figure out how to sit with my arms behind me.
“You’ll get used to maneuvering with your hands bound.” He looked up. “Can one of you cut the shoes from her feet, please?”
“Who are these men?” Now I was naked with four men — all in fancy suits.
“This is Marco,” he gestured to the man who’d gone inside with him. “The rest are guards.”
One of the guards leaned down, cut the shoes off, and in no time had a zip-tie around my ankles.
Fear spiked through my body and I tried to sink into the leather seat.
A fancy L shaped bench was along the wall behind the driver and came down the left side. I was between Bran and Marco on another plush bench in the very back. This had to be a stretch limo because the inside was huge.
“Gag her and hog-tie her on the floor,” Bran told the guards. “I’d like a drink.”
Before I could protest, I found myself face down on the rough carpet. Someone connected my bound wrists to my ankles, and a large ball was jammed into my mouth. The center was hollow so I could breathe through it, and I took a deep breath and did my best to say, “You bastard!”
The inside of my left thigh exploded in pain. I couldn’t turn to see what he’d done, but I fought my bonds and tried.
“Calm yourself, Holly. In my house, consequences come swiftly. Short whips, perfect for the space requirements, are in all my vehicles. I have a feeling you and my various whips are going to become well acquainted.”
Tears formed and ran down my face, and I could do nothing to stop them. I’d been sent to live with a crazy man.
I didn’t try to say anything else for the rest of the drive. I sensed us going down one mountain, and then up another one later, but there was no use in trying to figure out where we were going. I was miserable the whole ride — my back and inner leg throbbed and burned from the whip, my legs, shoulders, back and stomach hurt from the hog-tie, and my stomach and face were scratched and irritated on the rough carpet every time the driver slowed or sped.
And the gag was awful. A pool of saliva formed beneath me, my jaw muscles spasmed, and my jawbone felt as if it might break if it was forced this wide much longer. Didn’t he know meth users had problems with their jaw?
Bran and Marco exited the limo without another word when it finally stopped, and then it moved again, perhaps a quarter mile before it came to another stop and the engine shut off.
The guards got out, someone snipped the strap holding my wrists and ankles into the hog-tie, and I was unceremoniously thrown over someone’s shoulder. My bound arms were awkward behind me and I had to hold them pointed up so my shoulders didn’t hurt when they tried to come down. My zip-tied ankles kept my feet together as they bounced on the man’s front.
And my jaw freaking hurt from the gag.
The men put me in a jail cell — an honest to goodness jail cell. They snipped the zip-ties on my wrists and ankles, unfastened and removed the gag, and left me alone. I jumped and almost peed myself when they slammed the door shut behind them.
There was no furniture. No mattress. No blanket. No pillow. I was naked and alone. Three sides of the cell were concrete, the front was bars and the door. The floor was concrete.
“Hello! Is anyone there!?” Maybe there were other prisoners I could talk to?
Someone spoke over a speaker. “If you keep shouting, we’ll replace the gag. Continued shouting once you’re gagged will earn you a whipping.”
“I need the bathroom.”
“There’s a drain for you to piss in. You’ll find three bottled waters at the back right of the cell. Food is earned here. If you go hungry, it’ll be your own fault.”
I’d had a light lunch and hadn’t been given dinner. I was already hungry. Had Spencer been told to go light on my food? Jerk.
I moved the bottles of water so I could sit on the floor and prop up in the corner. I downed most of the first bottle in one gulp. The gag had made me thirsty.
Forehead to knees, I contemplated my predicament. It seemed I was well and truly screwed. Eventually, I squatted over the drain and relieved myself. I stayed squatted several long moments to try to get as dry as possible since there was nothing to wipe with. I didn’t know what would happen when I needed to do more than pee.
It took a long while, but I was finally so exhausted I nodded off — hungry, cold, and terrified. I must’ve awakened twenty times, and wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or scared when two guards walked in.
“Stand.”
I didn’t want them to leave me in this room alone again, so I stood. I stumbled and caught myself on the wall, but neither seemed to care. One turned me, the other put another zip-tie on my wrists to keep them behind my back, and the shorter of the two grunted, “Follow me.”
And so we went, with me sandwiched between two oversized guards through a dozen different hallways until I felt like a rat in a maze. Finally, they opened a door and motioned me into a room.
All white and steel, with a gynecologist table in the center of the room.
My feet froze and I couldn’t get past the doorway. Both guards were behind me, Bran was looking over a tray with medical instruments on it.
“Ah, there you are. All new acquisitions must be examined. Let’s get started.”
The first parts weren’t so bad — step on the scales, put your back to the wall with the ruler painted on it, read the eye chart.
Bran chatted as he maneuvered me and noted the various measurements.
“Abbott gave you extra supplements to help heal the damage to your body from the drugs. He says your mental faculties seem to have recovered a little, though he didn’t know you before the drugs so it’s likely you aren’t as bright now as you used to be. He feels your liver and kidneys aren’t at optimum level and isn’t sure they’ll recover. My blood has healing properties and if I give you enough, will possibly put your body back to the way it was before you tried to destroy it. My blood can’t fix your teeth, though.”
I wasn’t prepared for the thick silver choker they locked around my neck, or the matching rings they fastened around my wrists and ankles.
A woman measured me and put them on, and she glanced at Bran before telling me, “Bran’s slaves all wear these stainless cuffs and collars. You were given to him for six weeks so you won’t be trained as a long-term slave. If you stay, you’ll likely join his flock, unless you and he find a job you’re better suited to. For now, you’ll be considered slave by everyone in his household.”
Bran excused her as he moved to a wall and touched a button. A hook descended from the ceiling. “Your ankles and wrists will be bruised for a week or so until you get used to the cuffs and collar. You don’t need to tell us they hurt, we know they do at first.” He stepped to the open spot below the hook. “Unless I’ve marked you as ill or off limits, guards can use a slave sexually at any time. Refusing them will earn you whip strokes at their discretion. Since you’re cooperating, you’ll be marked off-limits a day or two, while you adjust to the way we do things.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ll call me Master
every time you’re given the privilege of speaking to me.”
I closed my eyes, considered the fact I was certain I couldn’t escape, and ground out, “Thank you, Master.”
“Needs work, but it’s a start. Come, stand below the winch.”
I moved where he pointed, and he hooked the metal rings at my wrists to the hook.
“Spread your legs and go up on your toes.”
Guards connected chains attached to the walls to my ankles so I wouldn’t be able to pull my legs together, and Bran pushed a different button this time, to raise the hook until I was on tiptoe and my body stretched as far as possible.
Brighter lights came on. Spotlights. They must’ve taken fifty pictures of me and my body parts, and every damned mole and freckle.
“Open your mouth.”
Bran stood before me again, his gaze dark. I opened it without argument.
He used a small flashlight to look at my teeth. He pulled my cheeks out, moved my jaw up and down. I felt like an animal. I knew my teeth were in bad shape, but hearing him declare nearly every tooth a disaster had me wishing I could crawl under the floor. He said a few could possibly be saved but he wasn’t sure and he’d need an x-ray. I wanted to ask if he was a dentist, but it seemed best to remain silent.
Next he said he was checking muscle tone. He felt my arms, my legs, my back, my bottom, my stomach. He made me tense muscles and relax them, and noted his observations clinically. “Poor. Weak. Less than average.”
When he finished, he plumped my left breast with one hand and poked at it in circles with the fingers of his other hand. I tried to jerk away, and I screamed, “No!” but he ignored me.
Finally, he stepped back and met my gaze. “Don’t like to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I’m not sure I’d have taken you on as a slave unless it was as a favor to Abbott. The drugs have taken a toll on your body. I can’t imagine the shape you must’ve been in before he started feeding you good food, insisting you exercise, and scheduling your sleep to be sure you got enough.”
“You’re a doctor?’
“No. I’m a vampire. Next comes the part of the examination I’ll like most but you’ll likely loathe.”
Two guards moved in, lifted me, and the next thing I knew I was on my back on the table, my legs in the stirrups. My hands were connected to little metal rings in the table near my waist, and a guard closed something over my shins so my lower legs were strapped in the stirrups.
“This is rape! You can’t examine me there without my consent!”
“My dear. The Abbott himself gifted you to me as a slave for six weeks. The word rape doesn’t exist where slaves are concerned. That being said, I’m not fucking you, merely examining you. All slaves go through an intake process. Sometimes I have my people to do it, but I usually prefer to handle it myself.”
He sighed and slapped the inside of my left thigh five times, hard. I fought my bonds and screamed, but I refused to cry despite the knot in my throat.
“As I said earlier, you’ll address me as Master every time you speak to me. You failed to follow instructions twice. Trust me, you don’t want the whip when bound as you are.”
I closed my eyes and imagined myself somewhere else. Anywhere else. God, I wanted a fix. An escape.
3
A slick finger invaded my ass and I once again jerked and fought the restraints holding my wrists and legs in place. I squeezed my ass as hard as I could, but he didn’t seem to notice.
The finger left and something else pushed in. Metal. Hard. Unforgiving. My eyes flew open and I tried to look down, but couldn’t see.
“Anal speculum,” he said. “I’ll need to watch the skin stretch, see how far I can safely take you before you tear. Most junkies are used to taking it up the ass, so I assume we’ll have to go pretty big before I hurt you for real.”
“I’m not a junkie!” My gaze met his and I didn’t care if I pissed him off. I used when I needed some energy or wanted to feel good. I wasn’t a junky.
He lifted a brow and started to say something, and I quickly added, “Master!”
Stupid egomaniac. I glared at him and hoped he could read my mind like Abbott so he’d know what I was thinking, though I’d gotten the feeling he couldn’t. Still, I didn’t say it out loud.
“Abbott found you totally out of it in a downtown park, crashing after a days-long binge. Tell me, what’s your definition of a junkie?”
I glared at him and he opened the speculum a little, making me gasp. He looked down to focus on my butthole once again, and I squeezed my eyes closed while he spread me wider, and wider, and wider.
I tried so hard to keep quiet, but I finally had to scream. I didn’t beg him to stop, though.
He slowed after my scream, but didn’t stop. Wider, and wider, and wider still. Cool air hit me in places it isn’t supposed to, and I was sure I’d never been opened this much before.
“Please!” I finally begged. “Master! Please no more!”
He stopped and screwed something, which I supposed held it where he’d stopped.
“Very good. It seems you do know some basic manners. If you don’t prove able to learn any productive skills and only have worth as a sex-toy, I think we’ll work you up until two of my well-endowed guards can take your ass at the same time. You aren’t quite there yet, but it should be fun stretching you until you can take them.”
Two people at once? In my bottom? I’d taken more than one guy when I’d been tweaking, and a few times when I needed a fix, but never in the same hole, and never because I wanted to.
“I’m not a slut!”
His eyes went hard and I added, “Master!”
His face smoothed back over and I picked up a hint of approval, though he said, “Well then, you won’t fit in here at all. An enjoyment of sex is pretty much a requirement.” He talked as he slid the speculum out a few inches, and finally released it so it went narrow and he removed it entirely. “Though, we have someone who enjoys hating sex, which works well for my purposes since she’s agreed she doesn’t have a choice.”
He stood and looked at his hands, and I hadn’t realized he’d been sitting. “Humans and your need for hygiene.” He turned and walked across the room but kept talking. “I’ll wash my hands before we begin on your cunt. Tell me, how are your orgasms? Are you lucky to have one, or do you have them one after the other?”
How was I supposed to answer that? It was never the same, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had sex sober. “I don’t know how to answer, Master.”
I finally remembered to call him Master, but it came out rude and obnoxious even to my ears. He didn’t mention it, though.
“I’ll ask again later and we’ll discuss specifics. What I want to know is how your orgasms are when you’re with someone you care deeply for, and how they differ when you’re fucking someone just to get a fix. Also, how they are when you’re stoned and open to all comers. Answer as best you can now and we’ll dig deeper later.”
I practically whispered, “I’m not sure I remember the last time I had sex when I was sober. I was drunk when I lost my virginity. It’s possible I’ve never…” I trailed off. Surely I had? Yes, right after rehab when I was a teen, with the guy I’d met in rehab. It was awful. Horrible. Disgusting. I didn’t tell Bran about it though.
He must’ve spent five minutes looking at my clit. Okay, maybe only two, but I wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere. He pulled the hood back to look at it bare. He blew on it until I wanted to pump my hips, but I stayed frozen. Once he let the hood back, he touched and moved the skin all around it, and finally spread everything out so he could see my clit all by itself.
“You have to know what comes next.” His voice sounded kinder than it had yet.
“I don’t want you to. Master.”
“Tell me something personal, something private. Something Abbott didn’t tell me. Satisfy me you’re opening up, and I’ll only do what’s necessary to check depth and map your g-spot. I’ll get a genera
l idea of how loose or tight you are from that, and we’ll begin working on vaginal strength tomorrow no matter what I find.”
“And if I don’t, Master?”
“Then I’ll open you up with a speculum to get a good look at your cervix, and I’ll see if you can take my fist.”
I searched my mind for something to tell him while he stuck one finger in, then two.
“I don’t know how to be an adult, or a mom, or anything! When I try to be grown up I somehow just end up looking like a child, and I can’t… I can’t…” The tears finally came and I couldn’t stop them. My hands were bound and I couldn’t cover my face so I turned my head to the side in a feeble attempt for privacy, but my chest heaved with sobs and I had to straighten my neck to breathe.
“Oh, dear.” Within seconds he had me loose and across the room, wrapped in his arms while I sobbed. He sat on a sofa and held me in his lap, cradled my head against his chest, and caressed my back. “The examination can wait. You honor me with your honesty.”
Someone put a blanket over us, and Bran wrapped it around me. “If you’ll allow me to borrow some of your warmth? I’d love to taste you right now. So much sorrow and grief.”
Taste me? He wanted me to tell him he could bite me. He was being nice and I didn’t want him to be mean again. They’d also told me he could and would do whatever he wanted. Would it be easier if I told him he could?
I nodded, and that was apparently all the consent he needed. His teeth sank into my neck with only a brief instant of sharp pain — over before I felt the memory of it.
And then heat raced through my veins. All of them. My body relaxed, my hips moved, and I curled in closer to him. His lips pulled and sucked. My body warmed from the inside out. I grew drowsy. I floated. I never wanted it to end, and I moaned when he gently removed his teeth. I felt him doing something with my neck but didn’t care. Licking. Pushing his tongue into the bite holes.
“You’re mine, Holly dear. Say it.”
An Elegant Weapon Page 2