Only Pretend

by Nora Flite

  ****

  Leonide left me in my heels and lingerie, bound my wrists with cuffs he'd kept disturbingly within reach in his pockets. In the hallway, I caught my first real look at the place I was in. It was dark, echoing halls with smooth wooden floors. I knew we were on some high floor, I spotted the bannister running alongside us. For a terrible second, I debated jumping. For better or worse, I was too much of a coward.

  Death frightened me.

  The walk was short, but by the end, I was sure I was in a house. A big one, but still a house of some kind. I had no clue how Leonide had gotten me from the hotel, or how long I'd been unconscious before arriving here—wherever here was.

  Shoving me through a plain looking door, he shut it behind us. "This should do for now."

  Do for now. Turning in place, I observed the cramped room with its pale walls. There was a simple bed in the corner, a toilet partially hidden behind a roll-away curtain. It was as drab as it could be, yet somehow, because it was so fitting for the situation, it made me feel better. Everything about Leonide—his sugary smiles, warm voice, that fucking scent—had left me unsettled when juxtaposed with his actions.

  I'm a slave, no matter what he says. This is a room for a slave. Finding comfort in the bluntness of it was fine.

  His presence crept behind me, fingers touching my wrists at the base of my spine. "Would you like the cuffs off?" Warily, I bobbed my head. Leonide rubbed a finger over my inner arm, lifting tiny hairs on end. "Say please."

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I felt a rush of pride.

  "Such a spoiled girl," he chuckled. "You think it matters, choosing not to answer me? Is that a 'win' for you, Celeste?"

  I remained silent.

  Sighing dramatically, he released me. The relief was brief, his hands coming around to cup my stomach. At this familiar touch, I stood rod straight. "Such a proud girl. When you came all over my fingers, I thought you'd be easier than this."

  Heat surged from my throat to my forehead. I was baking in my humiliation, wishing I could erase or change the fact that I'd allowed Leonide so close to me. Gently, he smoothed his palms upwards, tracing just outside my breasts. Behind me, I felt his body nudge closer. The hard shape of his erection was obvious.

  "You said you weren't a virgin," he whispered on the nape of my neck. Already I was rousing, heart thumping. "I assumed you liked to fuck. Was I wrong? Do you not get turned on when you feel how hard you get a man?" Rocking his hips, he slid his hidden cock against my ass cheeks.

  It took me biting the inside of my cheek to swaddle my moan. No. No, I'm not like that! Jones hadn't been my first, but he'd been close to it. Yet, I'd never felt powerful, or excited, knowing I'd gotten someone turned on. That was something my parents would have accused me of in their virtuous fervor.

  His fingers inched, massaging the outside of my breasts. "Your tits are lovely," he said. "Responsive, and I've seen what a pretty pink your nipples are."

  Was it the bluntness, the lewdness, or both that were making my knees quake? Something must be wrong with me, why am I—I can't like this, I won't! Inhaling until my chest strained, I willed my body to calm down.

  His hands left, never touching my aching nipples. I felt mixed feelings; alleviated, frustrated. It all fell away when he glided his fingertips behind me, up the inside of my thighs. I couldn't bite back my gasp, and when he stopped short of my pussy, he chuckled. "Ah, there she is. The girl I met in Vegas."

  "No!" I snapped, shaking my head rapidly. "I'm not—you're wrong!"

  "I'm never wrong." Shoving me forward, my chest fell across the bed. He yanked me back, spreading my knees on the cool floor.

  Unable to stand, to do anything with my hands cuffed behind my back, I shouted into the blanket. "Stop it, get away from me—ah!" The slap was a crack of thunder, my ass searing where he'd hit.

  He spanked me!

  The knowledge was awful, worse than his casual observations about my behavior. Gingerly, he rubbed over what I knew had to be a giant red mark in the shape of his hand. Struggling to turn, I was amazed I'd been stuck. "Celeste, you argue too much. That won't make this easier on you."

  "I don't care about easy! Let me fucking go!"

  "Just say please." Spreading my cheeks, Leonide made an appreciative noise. "You're ass is amazing."

  I moved my feet, tried to kick him; he placed a knee on each of my ankles, pinned me. Like feathers, he caressed my thighs. The slap had made me hyper aware, his exploring fingers as expert as ever. Had he figured my body out from our one night together, or was he reading me now?

  "You're little pussy is quivering." He tugged the panties to the side, never touching my hot flesh. "Do you want me to make you cum, beautiful girl?" All I could do was moan, the heat welling in me becoming a forest fire. Leonide slid his thumbs outside my lower lips, splayed me wide. "Ah, your cunt is dripping. American pussy is so greedy."

  My face couldn't have been hotter. "Stop looking!"

  "You don't command me." He kissed my ass cheek, then spanked it again. Before my shout had ended, he slapped the other one, too. Each hit was pain, the throbbing shocking me to my core and becoming a pleasure I didn't understand. "Fuck, you do like this, don't you? Your hips are rocking, tilting that pretty ass at me."

  I couldn't answer, could barely think. Was I doing what he said? My body didn't feel like it belonged to me. Leonide hadn't actually touched my breasts or my pussy, yet the need inside of me for release was excruciating.

  Patiently, he stroked two fingers on either side of my slick mound. My inner thighs were a mess with my arousal. "I can help you, make this ache go away. Wouldn't that be wonderful?" We both heard my soft sob. "All you have to do... is ask me to please take off these cuffs."

  I dove for reasons to rationalize it. I wanted him to go away, to leave me alone and let my body stop misbehaving. I wanted to cum, to get rid of the wild pressure that left me panting like an animal. Mostly, I wanted the humiliation to end. "Please," I whispered.

  "Louder." He spanked me again, firmer than ever.

  "Please!" I squealed, shuddering at the new wave of hunger.

  Casually, he traced my slit, felt my moisture. "Say 'please, sir.'"

  I was beyond caring what he asked. "Please, sir!"

  Cold air was what he left behind, his knees lifting from me. His shoes scuffed across the floor. Confused when he didn't undo the cuffs, I twisted to follow him with my eyes. Leonide smiled, smoothing his hair while turning the door knob. "Well done, sweet girl. But you took too long. Good night."

  As simple as that, he was gone.

  Stunned, I stared at the door, expecting him to return. I'd done what he'd asked! I'd done it all, so why would he leave me trussed up?

  It was more than that.

  He left me on the fucking edge. Closing my eyes, I crinkled my nose and growled my grievance. What does he want from me? What is he doing to me? I didn't get it, how easily he made me respond. Rolling my hips, I wished for the empty, desperate ache to leave my lower belly.

  Yanking at my wrists, kicking my feet, I screamed till my throat shredded. He'd fucked me up somehow, he had to have. What else could it be? I never imagined myself like this, ass burning and pussy twitching while I ground against the edge of a mattress. Worse, it was no use; it wasn't enough to get me off.

  Breathing heavily, I looked again at the door. I hate him. I hate him so much. Tears wore me down, salt stinging. I was too exhausted by everything.

  It wasn't a comfortable position, but my body sought sleep like a starving man chased food. I wondered, as my consciousness slipped away, if this was as bad as things would get.

  He'd made it clear it was just the start. I wished ignorance could be my armor.

  But I'd told him already.

  I wasn't stupid.

  - Chapter Three -

  Celeste

  Sharp pain in my bladder awoke me. Tears had dried on my cheek, stained the bed. Sourness invaded my mouth. All at once I needed to get rid of wa
ter and craved it tirelessly.

  Rocking on the bed, I fought to stand. It took forever, my shoulders tearing in their sockets while I bent at all angles. Finally I was on my back, the edge of the bed a prop to get me on my feet.

  The heels were still there. Ever my own enemy, my body gave out; legs withering. Shouting pitifully, I tumbled to the hard floor. The coolness was welcome on my forehead, so there was that.

  I'd never felt so defeated. All I wanted was a basic right, the ability to use a fucking toilet and relieve myself. Grunting, my joints vibrated as I sat back on my knees. The tiny cut from the light bulb throbbed distantly.

  Looking at the small toilet, I steeled myself. First, I tried to kick the shoes off. The straps around my ankles were tight, making it impossible. Fine. I can deal with this. Flaring my nostrils, I ignored the cramping in my calves and swung upwards. I was close to falling, miraculously managed to stabilize.

  It was a small victory.

  Inching towards the toilet, I sat down heavily. The curtain offered scant protection, but right then, I was focused on just figuring out how to piss without getting it all over my underwear. Leaning forward, pushing my arms to the limit, I tried to inch the panties down. Fuck, this is awful! Closing my eyes, I banished a hot wave of anger. I was hurting, suffering more than anyone ever needed to.

  The sound of the door slamming stole my air.

  Leonide walked in, spotting me where I sat. His laugh was cruel, reaching his onyx eyes. "Oh, poor girl. You look like you need some help."

  My former rage became chilling humiliation. Strolling to me, he stood in front and lifted an eyebrow. "You really should have obeyed me yesterday when I first asked. Now look at you." Shaking his head, he folded his arms across his broad chest. "Let's see if you learned anything. Would you like me to help?"

  Sucking the back of my teeth, I stared past his shoulder. Looking him in the eye was wrecking my courage. "Yes," I mumbled. "Please... sir." I loathed myself as much as I loathed him.

  Smirking sideways, he hoisted me up under my armpits. With no warning, he ripped my panties down my legs. Finally, he removed the cuffs. "There," he said flatly. "Now go."

  It was comforting that he turned away, pushing the curtain forward to hide me. It wasn't real privacy; it would have to do. Cleaning up, I fit my underwear back into place to make myself decent. The sight of my free hands, my sharp heels, gave me pause. Could I do it? Leonide was behind the curtain, facing away as he waited. If I'm fast.

  I just had to be fast.

  The buckles came off, freeing both feet from the forced arches. I finally had stability; with it came confidence and silence. The weight of the shoe felt wonderful in my hand. Hit him high, aim for the head. I stepped softly around the curtain. Then I need to run out of here, find an exit, find help.

  My lungs burned. I couldn't risk breathing. One hit, one good fucking hit. It was all I needed.

  The corner of his dark vision fell on me as I swung. Had I given myself away, screamed without realizing? Once, I'd read animals could smell adrenaline.

  Leonide had smelled me. He was a beast for certain.

  Gripping my forearm, he crushed me until I dropped the shoe. Yes, I was shouting, but from pain... not desperation. "You stupid bitch," he said, not sounding exasperated or shocked. Calm as ever, he pushed me to the floor. Breath fled me, his weight settling onto my chest. One of my arms was under me, twisted and making me cry. "Shut up. This is your own fault."

  Metal 'clicked' loudly. He'd cuffed me again; not my wrists, my ankles. Feebly I kicked, unable to move my legs in a useful way. Kneeing him in the back just shoved him down on me harder, forced me to wheeze for oxygen.

  He adjusted me, pressed my wrists down to the floor at my hips. There was nothing but a whisper between us, his lips pursed like he was ready to kiss me. Such a gorgeous face; why would an awful man be gifted like that? "Celeste, calm down. That's an order. Do you understand what an order is?"

  Nodding my chin, I met his stare and went limp. On cue, he lifted himself enough so I could draw air. It was wonderful, tasting so good in my throat.

  "I thought you'd behave better today." He dug his nails into my skin, watched me flinch. "I don't like to be mistaken." He shot a glance to the bed. I followed, saw the fallen heel where it lay. "Honestly, Celeste. Did you think attacking me was a good idea?"

  I inhaled through my nose. "Yes."

  His smile fell, cold ambivalence replacing everything. Leonide sized me up, seeing something different than he had before. He'd evaluated me as easy, someone he could manipulate into obeying without effort.

  Old Celeste was weak. She would have sobbed and whimpered out of the gate.

  Against my neck, my golden hair tickled me.

  Even if it was playing pretend... I needed whatever would give me strength.

  "Aren't you full of surprises," he said. Swooping like a hawk, he nuzzled the side of my throat. His scent—that musky net woven from forests and ocean waves—ensnared me. It was tantalizing, promising me many lovely things if I just let myself swim away in it.

  Cupping my cheek, he peered into my eyes. Leonide read the song that was painted across my face in the form of parted lips and pink cheeks. "Ah," he said around his crescent-smile, "there you are. There's the girl I was looking for."

  I wrenched my head away; the damage was done. Standing, he let me go and gave my hip a quick kick with the toe of his polished shoe. "Get up. We have work to do."

  With great care, I shuffled upwards. The cuffs kept my feet a hands-width apart, forced me to take tiny steps. There would be no running to freedom in these. "What kind of work?"

  "Your training must begin." He held my wrist and tugged me close. I could see the perfectly groomed hairs along his jaw. "I've already had inquiries about you, lovely girl."

  Inquiries. My heart filled my throat. Oh god, people who want to marry—no, call it what it is—buy me! It was a chilling reminder of my situation.

  "Don't look so shocked. A girl like you, well. I imagine you must catch many an eye normally." Wrinkling my nose, I looked away. His fingers, pinching the tender skin inside my wrist, pulled me back with a screech. "Listen to me. Listen very closely. If you have people showing interest now, you will have a groom soon enough. That means we must start right away with the basics, yes?"

  No. The answer is no. Grimacing at his wicked touch, I nodded helplessly.

  Leonide released me, studied how I cupped my bruised skin. "I'm going to take you out into the main house. You are going to listen to me completely when we leave here. There is no option. If you don't obey the rules, I will not be so forgiving anymore."

  I bit back a bitter laugh. This is him being forgiving? Lifting my chin, I dropped my arms to my sides. "Fine. Tell me the rules so I won't accidentally break them."

  "Accidentally?" Palming his neck, Leonide sighed. "Simple rules for a simple girl." I tightened my jaw at his insult. "You will address me as 'sir' at all times. You will never walk ahead of me. Behind or at my side, as I direct. If I tell you to do something, you will do it instantly. Let me repeat that." Bending close, he pushed my hair behind my ear, causing my heart to bounce. "Instantly. Understood?"

  My tongue worked to moisten my lips. "Yes... sir."

  "Good girl." Blessing me with a grin, he walked to the door. "Don't speak when it isn't needed. A good wife does not chatter endlessly." Leonide paused, spotting how I wasn't following him.

  I waved a hand down my body. "I'm supposed to go out there in just this lingerie? Er, sir?"

  "Yes, that's right."

  "I—but why?"

  "Because," he said, waving me to walk around him. I did so reluctantly, squeaking when he smacked me on the ass as I passed. "I said so. Correct?"

  Because you're a sick and twisted freak! Rubbing my backside, I frowned harshly. "Yes, sir." He seemed satisfied, standing in front of me in the hallway. As instructed, I followed behind him, needing two steps for every one of his. From heels to cuffs, I tho
ught in disgust.

  The house looked lighter than when I saw it last. Is it daytime? I still had no clue on the hour or my location. We walked the upper level, my attention wavering between trailing Leonide while peeking down at the floors below. For such a big home, it seemed so empty. Where are the women who undressed me yesterday?

  He took me down a staircase, my descent slow as I gripped the bannister. Things were bad, but I wasn't ready to break my neck.

  Leonide pulled up short; it was a miracle I didn't slam into him. Opening a door, the scent of something sweet hit me. The rumble of hunger in my stomach was excruciating. "Come along," he said.

  Inside was a kitchen, three women—one of which was the braided girl I recognized—all working on various things on the counters and stove. Wide-eyed, I stared over the bowl of fruit, the dough being rolled, and prayed I wasn't drooling.

  "Looks like you have an appetite. Good." Nodding to one of the woman, he nudged me towards the stove. "Go get two plates ready."

  "I—what? I mean, what, sir?"

  "Two plates," he said, eyebrows rising. "Get me my breakfast, Celeste."

  Too famished to quip, I covered myself and shuffled after the woman with short, black hair and an apron. No one was staring at me, I could have been fully dressed as far as they were concerned. I bet they've seen this before. Glancing back at Leonide, I was revolted. Other girls. He said there had been others.

  She snapped her fingers by my nose. Startled, I blinked, focused on what she was showing me. By the stove, there was a platter of scrambled eggs and a tray of thick, spongy looking pancakes. She spoke to me, not a word of English. "What language is she speaking?" I asked, eyeing the man where he reclined at the dining table.

  "The most beautiful of languages." His grin split his face. "Russian."

  Russian! Of course! I wanted to slap myself. Now I knew what Leonide's accent was, what caused his words to roll through me like molasses. "I don't speak Russian," I said nervously, shaking my head as the woman kept dictating.

  Taking my wrist, she placed a spoon in my hand. Then, she pointed from the food to a stack of dishes. It seemed obvious. Grabbing a plate, I piled it with eggs and pancakes. Now, I was actually salivating. The hole in my belly grew with every whiff of breakfast-foods.