Indulgence

by Liz Crowe

  I screamed against the tape again, and his hand came down on my ass. The motion caused my hips to rock harder against the vibrator, and I felt the tingling ball of tension growing inside of me.

  No, no, please don’t let it happen. I tried to force the sensations away, like I had done with Ross in the Outlook, but they pounded into my nerves too quickly. I had lost control of my mind and body.

  Tears soaked the pillow. Despite my best efforts to keep my hips still, they bucked with Gabe’s movements. More hands joined the frenzy, rubbing against the fresh welts on my back. The welts weren’t as painful as whatever Kirk had used, but the touches sent my nerves into overdrive—somehow amplifying everything Gabe was doing.

  I screamed again into the tape then buried my head in the pillows. My body rocked then jerked. The possessive orgasm wrung through my muscles, and all I could do was sob.

  I took deep breaths, trying to find air, but then I felt something large pressing between my ass cheeks.

  I moaned and twisted, even though I knew it was impossible to buck him off. Everything convulsed as he forced his erection inside my tight hole.

  “Kirk hasn’t trained his slave very well,” Gabe jeered, pulling my head up by my hair. “Guess we’ll have to fix that.”

  He slammed my head back down then rammed his cock into me. Lying down over my back, I felt his lips at my ear. “My man wasn’t the only mole, there’s a far worse one, and you’ve been sleeping in his bed,” he whispered the message for me alone and my insides turned to rock. “Do as we say, or your protector will be dead within the hour.”

  I thought that everything inside of me had died when I gave myself over to Kirk, but I was wrong. I felt it withering and rotting as Gabe pumped into me. Thrust after excruciating thrust.

  He shoved in deep, leaning over my back to untie my wrists.

  “You sure you want—” One man began, but Gabe growled and the blond shut up.

  Gabe pulled me up to my hands and knees, allowing him better access, while another climbed onto the bed in front of me. He twisted my head up to look at him. “You scream or bite and I’ll take out your teeth.”

  I heard a crash from the room behind us, before he could even peel away the tape.

  “Go on,” Gabe yelled—I assumed he was talking to the other men. I heard a scuffle, muffled words, and more banging and shouting. Then, Gabe was ripped off of me.

  I collapsed on the bed, feeling one hand touch the back of my leg while another cut my legs free. I kept my head down, but the hands gently tilted my head up and pulled off the tape.

  “Kirk,” I mouthed my larynx too sore to make a sound. He wrapped his shirt around me and lifted me into his arms. On the other side of the room, Miles held Gabe against the wall.

  “We’ll get them upstairs and let Ross figure out what to do with them,” Miles said.

  “She’s a slave,” Gabe said, trying to shake Miles’ hand off his shoulder. “And she has a sweet ass. Guess you just couldn’t give her everything she needed.”

  My eyes fell on the black form on the bed next to me. I grabbed it—the metal still warm from Kirk’s hand—and raised it, pointing the gun to Gabe’s head and pulling the trigger before I realized what I was doing.

  “Silver,” I heard two voices yell as Gabe’s body collapsed to the floor.

  Kirk grabbed the gun out of my hand.

  I heard a commotion outside, but the room started going dusky and I dropped my head to Kirk’s shoulder.

  I bobbed there semi-conscious as Kirk and Miles exchanged frantic words. Then, Miles patted my cheek, each time becoming rougher until I shook my head and focused on him.

  “Kirk fired the gun. Do you understand?”

  I stared back and started to space out again, but Miles shook my chin.

  I stared into his brown eyes, undecided if I wanted to stay with him and Kirk or let unconsciousness wash over me. “Alan,” I said.

  Miles frowned at me, and Kirk squeezed me tighter against his chest. I tried again. “Alan—” My throat was too dry and abused to make much noise without cutting out from the slices of pain. “—drove the truck that brought me here. He’s the mole.”

  Miles squeezed my forearm. “How do you know?”

  “I remembered. Only a bit.” I tried to swallow, but it was almost impossible.

  “She’s drugged,” Miles said, “She could have been hallucinating.”

  “Three men. Alan driving. Extended cab pickup,” I gritted out. I wasn’t sure how I was still even conscious, let alone talking. “Blue dash lights.”

  Above me, the men stared at each other. I tried to force out the rest of the information. To tell them about the scrawny black-haired man, too, but the room started to sway and spin.

  “I’ll kill him,” Miles whispered. Then he touched my chin, rubbing his finger gently over my skin. “Silver, I need you to listen to me now. Kirk fired the gun. Say it.”

  I took a deep breath and whispered, “Kirk fired the gun.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Fire Inside

  I woke up again as Kirk opened the door to the infirmary. Everything hurt and I felt like everything between my legs was on fire. I cried out as the cold table irritated my beaten back.

  “Make it stop, Kirk. Please.”

  He rubbed his hand over my least injured cheek and lowered his lips to my ear. “Stop calling me that before someone hears you.” As he straightened, he kissed my temple.

  I jumped when Clarence pulled over a tray of instruments. I hadn’t even noticed he was already in the room, and I wondered if he’d heard my slip up. As he snapped on a pair of purple gloves, I tried to crawl off the table toward Kirk.

  “Be still, Silver,” Clarence said.

  I wished people would stop telling me to do impossible things. I remembered what he was like. The subtle enjoyment he got out of pressing and poking me to the edge of my pain limits. I wasn’t sure I could handle him touching me at all. Kirk rested his palm against my chest, while the other gently brushed at my bangs, trying to keep me lying down and calm.

  “Everything hurts,” I sobbed. I couldn’t hold back, even though crying simply made everything worse. I throbbed in places I didn’t know it was possible to hurt in. The skin on my back felt prickly and raw. Not as much pain as the whip Kirk had used, but uncomfortable in other ways.

  “I’ll take care of the pain first,” Clarence whispered, rubbing my arm with an alcohol pad and then injecting a pale yellow liquid. As the warmth spread under my skin, my body went limp, and my already heavy eye lids almost refused to move. By the time Clarence had prepared the rest of his instruments, the pain had faded to a fuzzy feeling.

  “I’m just checking your injuries,” Clarence explained. This time, his touch was delicate and slow. “You shouldn’t feel anything too painful, but if you do, let me know.”

  I nodded my head, unable to do much else. He started with the swollen patch on my face, feeling carefully around it and then laying a cold pack wrapped in towels over it. Kirk took a stool near my head and held the cold pack against my cheek, resting his other hand on my shoulder. My head bobbed to the side, I was face to face with the tribal snake that decorated Kirk’s forearm.

  I felt Clarence’s hands working down my body, applying some kind of salve to the red marks across my breasts, stomach, and thighs.

  I blinked and the snake tattoo moved as if it was uncurling from his arm. My eyes closed and I gasped, forcing them open again.

  “Pain,” Clarence asked.

  I shook my head. Kirk leaned over me, his grey-blue eyes seemed almost glittery then his pupils turned to long slits.

  “Then what is it?” he asked.

  Reaching a hand up, I rubbed his cheek, then dropped my hand down to the tattoo, which had stopped moving again. “I’m either dreaming or hallucinating.”

  Kirk’s head jerked up. “How much morphine did you give her?”

  “Enough,” Clarence replied. “And stop scowling. It was less than h
alf a dose. I was afraid of it reacting to anything they gave her.”

  It was enough, the room danced around us and shimmery figures moved across the ceiling. Much better than pain, something gripped inside my chest, waiting for the images to turn dark and scary. I squeezed Kirk’s arm, and he bent forward to kiss my forehead. “I got you,” he whispered, and I gave into the warmth.

  I lost track of time, floating on the bed, with Clarence slowly working over me. Then, he pressed my legs apart and I snapped out of my calm retreat.

  “Easy,” Kirk said softly, brushing the back of his fingers against my uninjured cheek. “He needs to check your injuries. Just concentrate on me, okay?”

  I nodded, but convincing my body to relax again while Clarence worked between my legs wasn’t so simple. He moved with care, positioning me so he could do a vaginal exam. Every poke hit a tender spot, but the drugs made it tolerable—physically if not mentally. My mind screamed, trying to crawl away from the violation. I wanted clothes, a blanket, a place to hide. Siding with my brain, my skin broke out in goosebumps.

  “I’ll grab her a blanket,” Kirk said, “she’s freezing.”

  I caught his wrist as he rose, terrified of him leaving me. Under my grasp, the serpent tattoo moved again.

  “I’m just walking to that cabinet,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I won’t be out of sight.”

  I kept my eyes on him as he walked the five feet to the cabinet, but as soon as his back was turned shadows grew from the corners of the room, slipping out of the cabinets, under the doors. I whimpered, pulling my arms around myself and Clarence stopped his work. “Silver.”

  Kirk draped it over me and cupped the side of my face. I struggled to inhale as the darkness strangled my lungs.

  “It’s not real, Silver,” Kirk whispered. “Breathe.”

  My body started to calm again and he returned to the stool next to my head.

  “There doesn’t appear to be any vaginal bleeding,” Clarence said. I sighed in relief, but given the amount of pain, I couldn’t believe it was really possible.

  “There is a lot of bruising, and some chafing.”

  I wrapped my fingers around Kirk’s, and he squeezed my hand. The worst of the hallucinations were already starting to diminish. “Your tattoos stopped moving,” I mumbled, my throat felt like a gravel pit.

  “Were you having any hallucinations before Kirk brought you up here?”

  “I wish. Snapped out of it once.”

  I felt something pressing against my anus again and groaned.

  “Shhh,” Kirk cooed, caressing my cheek and wiping away the tears.

  “No rectal tears. She’s going to be sore for a while, though. I’ll give you some Vicodin to hold her over. You should probably keep a close eye on her for the next few days.”

  Clarence stood and lifted my legs from the stirrups pulling the foot of the bed back out and laying my legs gently across it. “I need to have a look at her back now.” He touched my arm. “Can you roll on your side? Toward the door.”

  They both helped me roll over just as the door to the infirmary opened. As the cool draft drifted in, followed by the smell of Ross’ cologne, I was thankful for the blanket.

  “Can I talk to you, Kirk?”

  “Please,” I begged. I didn’t want him to leave. I feared what Ross would do to him. To us.

  “I won’t leave the room,” he whispered.

  I shook my head. “The shadows will get me.”

  “Are you still seeing things?” Kirk asked.

  Ross approached and grabbed his arm pulling him toward the door, but Kirk held his ground. A black hooded cloak rose up, enveloping Ross. Death had come to claim my Master.

  My body clenched and I kicked to get off of the bed. A hand grabbed me from behind.

  The cloaked hand dropped away and Kirk crouched in front of me, putting his hand to my face. “Breathe, Sugar. What do you see?”

  I shook my head, digging my fingers into his wrist. I blinked, feeling once again like I had just come out of a dream, but just as quickly reality slipped into darkness.

  Clarence roused me, but I didn’t want to leave my stupor. “I need you to answer some questions, can you do that?”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s important, Silver.”

  I opened my eyes enough to see Kirk and Ross across the room. Kirk leaned against a wall, his arms folded over his chest, his gaze never leaving me as Ross spoke.

  “Silver,” Clarence repeated my name.

  I didn’t want to speak, but I nodded.

  “What’d they hit you with?”

  I definitely did not want to go there. Why the hell did it matter enough to make me conjure up the memory? “Belt, “I replied quickly.

  “Anything else?”

  Fucking hell. I fought, trying not to slip back into the memory. “A stick or something. Didn’t see.”

  “Did they rub anything on your back?”

  Rub? What? My back, prickly, hot, pain. I remembered their hands on me. “Maybe.”

  Kirk broke away from Ross and came back to my side.

  “Does your back itch?” Clarence asked.

  I moaned, trying to decipher the rush of messages I was getting from almost every inch of skin and muscle. “I guess.”

  “What’s going on?” Kirk asked. Ross stood behind him, grimacing. I had a feeling he wasn’t through saying everything he wanted to say, but Clarence continued his own inquisition.

  “How does your throat feel?”

  I wasn’t sure where the line of questioning was going or how he was jumping from my back to my throat. “Sore. Itchy. Dry.”

  “Clarence?” Kirk growled.

  “She looks like she’s having an allergic reaction. I’ll have to wash the site and make sure all of the allergens are gone then I’ll put on an antihistamine cream.”

  I blinked and it was like watching a movie that kept skipping. Kirk and Ross were once again huddled in a corner. Something warm and wet rubbed across my back and I jumped.

  “Easy, Silver,” Clarence whispered. “I know it’s sore, but I’m almost done.”

  “Will I forget?” This time I wanted to forget. I’d been searching so long to get back the memories of how I got here, but now I wondered if I wanted those either. “They gave me something, tasted soapy.”

  “GHB. It’ll clear from your system pretty quickly.”

  “And I’ll forget?”

  “I don’t think they gave you enough.”

  “I forgot last time. Forgot how I got here—” My voice caught in the back of my throat and I coughed.

  “I’m sorry, Silver. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

  “Can I have water?”

  “Sure,” he nodded. For a moment, I felt completely alone even though Clarence was only a few feet away, and Kirk was still in the room. I was exposed. My soul carved open and left on the table. The morphine felt like a blanket under my skin, but it also made me feel even weaker. I hugged my arms around myself, wishing Kirk and Ross would get their conversation over with.

  Clarence returned with a small cup and helped me roll to my back. Then, he raised the head of the bed up so I could drink.

  The voices across the room grew louder, and for the first time I could make out their words.

  “It wasn’t your call,” Ross said. “You need to get it in your head that she’s a damn slave.”

  “It was me,” I said, my voice quivering.

  They both looked my way, and I saw Kirk’s head shake slightly.

  “Let your Master handle this,” Clarence whispered, patting my shoulder. He looked up and shook his head. “She’s on pain killers, she’s been rambling.”

  I have not, my brain shouted, but I managed to silence it. I had been hallucinating, and to be honest I couldn’t be sure whether I had been rambling or not. Ross crossed the room and looked to Clarence. “How bad are her injuries?”

  “You know, I don’t mind taking care of the girls, but stuff li
ke this. It shouldn’t happen.”

  Ross nodded. “Can you tell me what happened, Silver?”

  I wanted to shake my head, but I knew he wouldn’t be as patient and forgiving as Kirk or Clarence. “He said you wanted to see me. Had the master keys. They… they beat me… and… and…”

  “It’s okay,” Kirk said.

  “They saved me. Miles and Kirk.”

  Ross raised an eyebrow and looked at Kirk, it took my mind a few seconds, but I finally realized my error. Master. Master, damn it. No wonder Kirk always yelled at me for using his name.

  “Then what?” Ross asked.

  Concentrate, Silver. I glanced over slightly to see Kirk, but my eyelids were getting so heavy that every time I blinked I could barely get them open again.

  “Gabe started shouting, tried to get away from Miles. Master shot him. Master kept me safe.”

  A half grin spread on Kirk’s face and I closed my eyes. I wanted sleep to reclaim me with that image in my mind, one tiny moment of satisfaction within the storm of chaos and pain. Through the haze of drugs, I told the story I was given.

  But my body shook, a hand patted my cheek.

  “She’s hurt and high on pain killers, Ross,” Kirk yelled.

  “Best time to get an honest story.” Ross leaned over me until I could smell the coffee on his breath. “Anything else I should know.”

  “Alan took me.”

  “From your room?” He scoffed, “He’s not even here today.”

  I shook my head. “Brought me here. Drove the truck.”

  Ross looked to Kirk, and Kirk nodded at me. “You wanted her information.”

  Ross made a growling sound in his throat. “She’s still hallucinating.”

  “I’m not.” Well, maybe I was, but not about what I remembered. “Extended cab pickup. Blue lights inside. I remember.”

  “What color was the truck?”

  “Isn’t the blue light enough. Alan had the lighting installed two months ago.”

  Ross ignored him, staring down at me. His hand moved and I twitched away.

  “I don’t remember anything else about the truck. There were two other men. One with black hair held me, another in the front seat. I never saw his face.” I pushed out the information as fast as possible, unsure I could fight unconsciousness any longer and fearful of what Ross would do if I fell asleep without permission. I bit my lip then looked to Kirk wondering if I should bring up the dark haired man.