Little Things

by Madison Street

  I shake away my dream and jump out of the bed, my clothes dripping wet. Derrick puts the empty bucket on the floor and slaps me hard across the face.

  He roars, “You will not dream of another man while you are mine!”

  I touch my cheek and rub away the sting of his hand. No matter how many times he hits me, the sting doesn’t get any easier to handle. I look at him and realize he’s only in his underwear. It dawns on me that as I was dreaming of Duke, Derrick was the one touching me. My stomach churns as bile threatens to spill out of my mouth. Imagining Derrick touching me makes my skin crawl and I have the urge to kick his face in.

  I can’t help but notice his erection bulging in his briefs and I roll my eyes. A shiver travels through my body and I let out a deep sigh. He’s such a fucking asshole. He grabs my shoulders and forces me to kneel down in front of him as he drops his boxer briefs and releases his dick from the bounds of his underwear. Oh god, not this again.

  He pulls my head toward his dick, “Well, you know what to do. And don’t even think about biting or I’ll bash your head into the wall.”

  I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and open my mouth wide to take him in. Instantly, he hisses with pleasure as my mouth sucks him off for his morning nut. His dick grows thicker as I continue my pace. He reaches down and grabs a fist full of my hair and pulls hard. I yelp in pain as his hand bunches my hair into knots. I suddenly have the urge to bite him, but decide to save that for another time.

  As I quicken my pace, he growls, “Faster.”

  He lets go of my hair with one hand, only to bury himself deeper into my mouth. His panting grows faster as he nears his climax. I taste a bit of his cum as it slowly leaks out of him.

  He begins to pump his hips and moves my hands to touch his dick, “Stroke me, Angel. Touch it.”

  I follow his direction and stroke him rapidly while running my tongue along his head.

  “Oh, Angel, you little slut. You suck me off so well.”

  As soon as he said the word slut, my body stewed with rage and fury. I hate that fucking word and I will not be called a slut. I feel the hatred building inside as he continues to revel in the pleasure that I’m giving him. At first, I think to stop, but decide on another course of action.

  I stroke faster and suck harder to fulfill his wish for pleasure.

  As his body enjoys my skills, he moans with pleasure as he releases into my mouth. I angle my mouth to carefully catch his cum and hold my gag reflex to prevent from swallowing. He breathes out the last burst of his orgasm as he looks down at me and slowly pulls his dick out of my mouth. I smile, still holding his cum in the back of my throat.

  He readjusts his boxer briefs onto his hips and offers his hand out to me. I grab his hand, allowing him to hoist me up off of my knees. This is it. Now or never.

  Right before he lets go of my hand, I quickly spit all of his cum into his face, aiming straight for his eyes. He yells with disgust and rubs his hands all over his face, trying to wipe off his own seed. I smirk with pride as my plan worked perfectly and mentally give myself a pat on the back.

  Derrick catches me laughing at his freak out and throws his hands around my neck, pushing me onto the bed.

  “You think that was funny?!??”

  “You said not to bite you and I listened.”

  “So, you think this is a game? Well, I love to play games.”

  He squeezes his hands around my neck tighter, but I don’t back down.

  “Go ahead! I’m not afraid of you. I’ll never be afraid.”

  “You would think that after two years, you would learn to follow the rules. Hmm, looks like you need to learn a little more discipline.”

  He bends down to whisper, “I have just the treatment to rectify your rebelliousness.”

  And with that, he lets go of my neck and exits the room quickly, leaving me to think about his threat.

  For the past two weeks, Derrick has auctioned me off every night. Usually, I only attend two auctions per week. I’m assuming this is his ‘treatment’, but fuck it, I don’t care. As long as I take my little pill and shut myself out during the personal time, I’m okay. In fact, a few of the winning bidders are what Derrick calls my regulars.

  After my first auction, I’ve run into West a few times. He keeps his distance and barely talks to me, but some days, I catch him watching me. For some reason, I’m not afraid of him, even though he’s Derrick’s right hand man. Sometimes, just catching him staring at me gives me the slight comfort that I need to make it through the day.

  I’ve grown accustomed to my new life. I’ve even seen Layla a few times in the past few months. She’s not as strong as me so I worry for her. I can tell that she’s been sick and has lost some weight. But what can I do? I can’t just take her to the hospital. I even asked Trish about Layla and all she said was Derrick is handling it.

  As I lie on my bed, waiting for another exhausting night of pleasuring my winning bid, Trish enters the room.

  I lift my head off the bed, “Hey, Trish. What are we wearing this evening?”

  She saunters over the bed slowly and sits next to me, “Actually, you’re not going tonight. Derrick has other plans for you.”

  “What do you mean other plans?”

  “Honestly, Raya, I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. He’s coming down in a few minutes to come get you.”

  She reaches over and pulls me into a hug, “Raya, you need to stay strong.”

  I pull out of her hug and stare at her, “Trish, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

  “I said I don’t know. I’ve never seen Derrick so vengeful before.”

  “Vengeful? For me spitting his cum in his face?”

  “Raya, it’s not just that. You humiliated him and you constantly defy him. Sooner or later, he’s going to have enough and he will break you.”

  “Well, I will not surrender to him. I can’t.”

  “Raya, you may not have a choice.”

  At that moment, West comes barging into the room and rushes toward us.

  I jump up out of the bed, “West, what are you doing here?”

  West clears his throat, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Between all of your auctions and him clearing out the cellar, he’s clearly up to something. What did you do to him?”

  I shake my head, it doesn’t matter now, “I’ll just get through whatever he throws my way. I’ve done it before.”

  Trish stands up and turns to West, “Wait, did you say he cleared out the cellar?”

  “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  Confused, I glance at them, “What’s the cellar?”

  Suddenly, the door opens and West reaches over to grab my arms, cuffing them behind my back. He whispers, “Relax.”

  I nod my head as Derrick enters the room. He stops at the sight of West and arches his brow.

  “What are you doing here, West?”

  With confidence he responds, “I was just coming to collect the girl, Sir. Do you want me to follow you?”

  Derrick walks over to us and pulls me out of West’s grip, “No, I’ll take the girl. Go stand watch at the north corner.”

  West accepts the order, “Yes, Sir.”

  As West turns to exit, he looks at me, his eyes offering a glimmer of hope and strength. Derrick turns to Trish and tells her to lock up behind us. He grabs my arms and drags me out of the room. I allow him to lead me deeper into the tunnel and farther away from everyone else.

  The cold, hard floor cuts into my bare feet as we make our way to the cellar. As we travel deeper, I notice that the wall lamps are cut off, no longer providing the light needed to guide our way. Derrick pulls a flashlight from his back pocket, clicks it on, and continues the hike.

  After several twists and turns, we arrive at a wooden door. Derrick unlocks the door and pushes me inside. The room is pitch black—nothing is visible. He releases my cuffs and brushes up against my body, smelling my hair.
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  He snickers behind me, “Enjoy your company, Angel. I’ll come for you when you’ve learned your lesson.”

  I spin around to stop him from leaving, but it’s too late. He’s already shut the door and locked it tight. Complete darkness fills the cellar and all I hear is my own heartbeat pounding against my chest. I reach my arms out to try and find the adjacent wall, but I can’t even see them out in front of me. I start to tremble as I’m on high alert for anything and everything.

  I inhale a deep breath and take a small step, hopefully toward the wall. I stick my hands out in the air in front of me, trying to grasp anything in reach. As I continue to take one step at a time, my right foot catches on something on the floor and I trip, unable to brace my fall in the darkness.

  I crash, hitting my head as I yell out in pain. I lie still for a few seconds to gather my surroundings and inspect my head, feeling for any cuts or signs of blood. All clear. I slowly sit up and crawl on my hands and knees, trying to trace my steps before the fall.

  I softly tap my hands on the floor in front of me, searching for whatever I tripped over. Soon, my right hand touches something on the floor. I crawl closer and continue to move my hand up further and realize it’s a person’s arm. What the hell?

  I rush closer and reach out to the touch the body that’s on the floor. My hands roam over the soft fabric as I try to decode the mystery. Is this a dress?

  My heart drops and my eyes grow wide in horror as the realization hits me.

  I reach up to touch her face, “Layla!!!”

  Her long hair falls flat on the hard floor as I lift her head and cradle it in my arms.

  “Layla, can you hear me?”

  I tap her face and rest my head on her chest. Oh, thank God, she’s breathing.

  Shaking her body gently, I try desperately to wake her up. Tears spill down my face and onto her unconscious body.

  “Layla, please wake up. Please, Layla. Listen to my voice. Wake up!”

  A few minutes later, she murmurs as her body stirs awake and I let out a sigh of relief. I cradle her head into my chest and kiss the top of her head.

  She whispers, “Raya?”

  “Yes, yes! I’m here!”

  Her panicked voice echoes, “What happened? Where are we?”

  I help her sit up, “We’re in the cellar. Derrick brought us here.”

  “Why?”

  I bow my head, “Because he’s punishing me.”

  She gasps, “Raya, what did you do?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Come on, we need to find a way out. I was looking for the wall, before I tripped over you.”

  I stand up slowly and pull Layla up beside me.

  I grab hold of her, trying to keep her steady. “Hold on to me. Don’t let go. This room is pitch black and I don’t want to lose you.”

  She grips onto my hand, “I won’t let go.”

  “Okay, I’m going to slowly walk forward. Place your other hand on my right shoulder and follow me.”

  She places her hand on my shoulder and follows my direction. I slowly reach out my arms in the open space, praying I touch a wall in front of me.

  Layla whispers, “Raya, I don’t like this. I can’t see anything.”

  “Layla, just relax. There’s no point in getting all worked up. I’m trying to find the wall and then we can work from there, okay?”

  I hear a breath escape from her mouth as she sighs, “Yes, okay.”

  We continue to walk a few steps at a time until we finally reach the wall.

  Layla exclaims, “Oh, thank God!”

  I pat the hard wall, trying to feel for a light switch or something. My hands glide against the wall and I come up empty.

  “Fuck! I can’t feel anything. Layla, try to find a switch or doorway, anything.”

  As Layla and I inspect the hard, smooth wall, a deep chuckle echoes from across the room.

  We both spin around and Layla questions, “Did you hear that?”

  I grab on to Layla’s hand, “I was hoping it was just me who heard it.”

  Layla’s hand trembles in mine. Or am I the one trembling? I can’t really tell.

  Another low and malicious chuckle sounds off, but this time, the origin is much closer.

  I squeeze Layla’s hand, “Layla, we are not alone.”

  In that split-second, someone rushes past me, ripping Layla’s hand from my grip as her fearful scream rings throughout the room.

  Raya

  I reach my hand out in search for Layla’s hand, but come up empty.

  “Layla! Where are you?”

  A muffled noise sounds off as the panic in me builds up higher and higher.

  “Layla! Talk to me!”

  The sound of bodies scuffling echoes from across the dark room, so I decide to follow it.

  At that moment, I hear Layla gasp and scream for my help, “Raya, help me!”

  I rush to her plea for help, diving right into the eerie blackness. Instantly, I collide into a strong, solid body. Whomever this person is, he’s hurting Layla. I fling my arms out to try to claw his face and hopefully get a good shot at his eyes.

  The man grunts as he pushes Layla out of the way, clearly making an easy trail to attack me. He grabs on to my wrists and twists them behind my back. I cry out in pain as the sting sends chills up my spine. Suddenly, Layla brushes up against us as she punches him over and over again.

  She screams, “Let go of her!”

  He instantly backhands her and she goes flying, crashing into the solid floor. As he returns his focus on me, I try to remember a few kickboxing moves and give him a swift kick to the lower knees. He buckles over, letting go of my wrists.

  Pushing off of him, I run to find Layla.

  I bend down to the floor, crawling to find her. “Layla! Reach for me!”

  She whispers softly a few feet away, “I’m over here.”

  I crawl beside her and nuzzle her neck into my chest. I feel blood running down the side of her face and tears spill over her cheeks.

  I kiss her forehead, “Layla, I’ll get us out of here.”

  A deep and malicious voice whispers behind us, “Oh no you won’t.”

  He grabs a fist full of my hair and stands me up on my feet. I let go of Layla and land a right hook into his face. A few seconds later, his rough fist crashes into my cheekbone and all I see is cloudy dots and stars as I try to focus. My body sways in his grasp as his next hits knock the wind out of me.

  I receive another hit to my lower stomach, and another, and another. Hit after hit collides with my body and I slowly begin to collapse. His fists grow stronger and the punches dive deeper into my fragile frame, slowly weakening me until I can no longer take anymore.

  I let go of every ounce of strength left in me and slam into the solid floor below. Pools of blood form underneath my oozing head as I try to breathe through the excruciating pain. Determination and loyalty keep me from closing my eyes and I shake away the fogginess, trying to get a glimpse of Layla.

  The dizziness escalates as the pounding in my head grows louder and louder. I try to reach my arms out to her but the pain is too much.

  My voice cracks, “Survive, Layla. Survive.”

  She responds with only sobs and whimpers. Heavy footsteps pass by my beaten body and move toward Layla.

  She pleas, “No, please don’t hurt me.”

  The nefarious voice commands, “This is her fault. Remember that.”

  And with that, I hear her cry out as he inflicts pain on her. She gasps as he hits her body over and over again.

  I scream for her as tears run down my face, “No, stop! Hurt me! Hit me instead!”

  He ignores my request and continues to slam his fist into her, blow after blow.

  After several minutes of hearing gut-wrenching punches, she begins to make a choking sound, gasping for air. Panic instantly rises and I’m suddenly about to vomit.

  My breath hitches as Layla co
ntinues to gasp for air. I have to save her.

  I take a deep breath and muster up the last shred of energy I have left, forcefully lifting myself to stand. I rush into him and try to pull Layla out of his grasp.

  “Let go of her!”

  All of a sudden, a sharp and instant pain in my lower right side explodes and I groan in agony. There is a tug at my side and I fall back to the floor. Pressing my hand to my side, I feel a gush of blood rushing out. Fuck, I’ve been stabbed.

  I reach my other hand up toward Layla and grab a sliver of her dress. Her body sways back and forth as he continues to strangle her with his hands. Her gasping breaths burn into my skull as I try to form another plan of attack.

  “Please stop! I’ll behave! Just stop!”

  The gasps stop and her whimpers cease. At that moment, her body slumps to the floor next to me and I slide toward her. I grab hold of her wrist, trying to find a pulse. Please…please…

  I press my fingers against her wrist and feel…nothing. No pulse, not even a blip.

  I rest my head on her chest to listen for a heartbeat, but all I hear is silence. A pang of heartbreak scorches through my soul as I hold on to her lifeless body.

  Tears gush down my face, “No!!! Please don’t leave me! Layla, please.”

  I shake her body, hoping to revive her anyway possible. I pound her chest hard but nothing happens. No sign of life.

  “Please, Layla, please. I need you here with me. I can’t get through this without you.”

  As I cry into her lifeless body, he grabs my arm and I yank it out of his grasp.

  “Don’t fuckin’ touch me! You did your job, now leave me alone!”

  His evil chuckle vibrates, “Remember, this is your fault.”

  And with that, he stands up and walks away, exiting the room.

  The darkness surrounds us as I hold on to her with the last amount of hope and love I have left. The uncontrollable wails and sobs escape from within and echo off the dark walls in the room. The hole in my chest expands as my heart rips into shreds with the loss of another loved one.

  Why? Why is this happening to me?

  I stay with her for as long as I’m locked down here, never letting go. The night passes by and I lose track of time. My stomach growls with hunger and my dehydrated body aches with thirst. I promised I would never leave her, so I lie at her side until someone collects me.