Natural Submission

by Carmen Hunter

  They moved as one, Rosamma throwing herself back - but not far enough. Guy lunged faster than a python, strong fingers curling in thick mahogany hair and yanking out a few strands. Followed by a resounding slap! of flesh, a searing pain lit the side of her chest. Fire spread to her nipple as Guy gripped the tender flesh and twisted.

  Throbbing tendrils of discomfort radiated from his fingers, and in retaliation Rosamma kicked where all women were told to kick. Her knee hit something hard that cupped the shape of his groin. The back of her mind had enough wherewithal to panic over the size. Any intercourse would hurt a virgin, but adding a large cock and a lack of arousal to the mix was… torture.

  As if he knew her thoughts - no. Because he knew her thoughts (how could he not when he’s clearly done this so many times before) Guy pried open her thighs enough to wiggle two fingers against her core. The soul piercing scream earned those same fingers shoved down her throat. A heady mixture coated his fingers, the taste one she’d never experienced before.

  “That’s called arousal, you dirty whore.” His knee split her legs and ground against her cunt. “You enjoy being taken, abused and humiliated.”

  Tears sprung to Rosamma’s already puffy eyes. Guy wasn’t asking, he was telling her she wanted these cruel and undeserved punishments. Slowly, pressed between the cold metal floor and her captor, Guy’s knee began to move. Fabric rubbed a new sensation against her clit, jolting shocks of pleasure to her toes.

  “You like being dominated.” He grunted, massaging the heat from her breast with skilled ministrations. While groaning he removed spit slicked fingers from her mouth and took them into his. With a pop Guy released the two digits. “You like perversion.” He made a wet trail of saliva from the valley of her breast to the mound of her cunt. “And your tight virgin hole will love Master’s cock.”

  Before she screamed or thrashed in struggle, Guy dipped his hand to cup her sex. A skilled thumb worked her clit, his fingers spreading her pussy wide open. Humiliation flooded her body at the lewd display. Despite the darkness, his actions split her mind open and left her bare to the world in a way she’d never experienced.

  That’s when his mouth descended on her. There was enough time to sense a change in temperature on her sex, his hot breath coming in waves. Raw from the inside out, Rosamma’s limbs froze in an inescapable docile state. It felt like floating, her bed of clouds the complete ownership this mad man had over her.

  A firm tongue licked and lapped, trailing up one sensitive lip and down the other, flicking her clit, biting her clit. She tried to shove Guy’s head away, only for his curls to tangle around each finger, the softness soothing her rejection. The explosion came far too quick and far too easy, shame tearing a sob of pleasure from her throat.

  Rosamma’s hips lifted, grinding her sex against his tongue. Chuckles vibrated through her body, eliciting loud mewls. She squeaked when Guy gripped her by the thigh, and drug her closer. Was this it? Was this moment she lost her virginity; on a dirty floor to a monster? Warmth splashed across her naked chest, earning a flinch.

  “Clean it up, slave.” Guy’s husky voice dispelled the heat of pleasure that fogged her mind. If that was for her pleasure, she didn’t want to know what his turn would entail.

  “I don’t have anything.” She whimpered, trying to crawl backwards. The grip on her leg tightened, holding her in place.

  “You have a mouth.” He growled.

  Revulsion bubbled in her belly, threatening to overflow in a sea of bile. An outline of Guy’s crouched body revealed a long shaft held in his fist, angled at her breasts. Semen. He jerked himself off while enjoying his possession of a new slave.

  Rosamma hated to curse, but fuck him. Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. Alarms began to screech in the sanctity of her own head, telling her to think before she acts. As her fingers scooped the milky substance from her skin, rational said to do as Guy told her. Put it in her mouth, suck it down, avoid further punishment.

  It was so simple.

  Instead, she flung the filth from her fingers, but this didn’t hit leather shoes. Those were good as new with polish and shine. Cum landed on the lapel of his fine crafted suit and soaked permanently into the fabric. It was Rosamma’s turn to laugh, even as fear made her toes go numb. Guy’s body stilled for a moment before he wiped his clothing clean with a pocket square. His tongued clicked, the sound resembling that of a disappointed parent.

  “You’ll not like what I have to do to punish you for this.”

  Capitulo Sette

  “Ekene. Ekene can you hear me?”

  Yeah. He heard Faraji just fine. He saw his snapping fingers an inch from his nose just fine too. But none of it was processing. The imagery, the sound, it was all background information to what his brother just said.

  Sex trafficking.

  Men who planned to sell her to the highest bidder to suck cock for the rest of her life. Which would be a short life indeed, considering the people who bought women.

  It’s been a little over forty-eight hours since Rosamma’s capture. Which meant the innocent girl he met was already gone. Tainted by the realness of a world few ever see, and even less make it out of alive. And it was all his fault. “Fuck.” It felt like the floor was falling out from under him.

  “Woah, sit down, brother.” Concern clouded Faraji’s gaze as he guided Ekene to a seat. In Ekene’s own private office, the impersonal corporate decor was missing. A leather couch, a selection of exotic plants. Even tasteful art of various landscapes, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, European countries. None of it brought comfort.

  “How do we get her back?” he whispered. That was the only question that mattered, even as broad as it was.

  “There are not a lot of options.” his brother admitted slowly, as if uncertain Ekene could take it. Of course he could. Life had made him witness things of similar a caliber before, the difference being that this was his fault. Which meant he had to separate his emotions from this, lest he risk another failure.

  “Then we start with what you know.” Ekene grunted, running a hand down his face. “Who took her?”

  “He goes by Guy. People who know who he is referred to him as Some Guy, almost like a secret code.” So they had an alias. It wouldn’t help to track bank accounts, or where he held the girls, but it would help find him in the underground.

  “What else?” Ekene demanded.

  “Greedy.” Faraji scoffed, yanking a brochure from his back pocket. Bright color clashed against black nail polish and a grimace. “They tried way too hard with this.”

  “The unicorn package flyer?” It was the first and only thing he read from the suitcase of threats Uday provided. “How does this relate to a sex trade ring?”

  “Consider it marketing for a startup.” The seriousness of his voice made it clear Faraji wasn’t joking. “Guy has been in the game for a minute. He’s in big with the international guy’s - guy's dad makes sure we stay clear of for a reason.”

  “So why make a play on such an auspicious target? If he hasn’t been caught by the police, it isn’t because he’s using a tactical team to abduct a super models.” Shit like that got you put on the FBI’s watch list. None of it made sense to Ekene. This wasn’t the play a kingpin would make because of the risk involved, and it wasn’t a play any newbie could make.

  “Hence the Unicorn package.” Faraji stated, as if reading his mind. “A once in a lifetime, have to see it to believe it, purchase. If you know how to read the advertisement, it tells you everything you need to know. Esposito blood alone skyrocketed the price, but it’s these two parts that’ll draw most of the attention.”

  Faraji pointed a dark finger at the small writing covering the pamphlet. Break in this Unicorn Package yourself! Bold words he once read himself, before tossing it aside as a harmless advertisement. Just like any other sap who might run across the colorful sheet of paper.

  His brother’s finger slipped further down and Ekene read the words out loud. “Natural leather so soft… it pract
ically does what you say. Obedience? They’re promising obedience.” Bile rose in his throat once more. There was only one-way traffickers trained girls to obey every command. People who bought women wanted to cause them pain, so you make pain all they know. First they fight. Then they accept. Until finally they crave the sweet caress of pain against their body's natural drive.

  “Not quite.” Faraji murmured. “They’re saying she’s a natural submissive. That she’ll enjoy being a slave and will greet her master… willingly. This,” he pointed at the bold again, ‘’says whoever wins the auction gets to be the one training her.”

  “How much.” The words are out not a second later. To get Rosamma back he’d pay any amount. He had to fix this. Save her. And maybe, just maybe, make her forgive him.

  “Starting price is thirty million.” his heart dropped. Even if it made him penniless, he’d empty his bank accounts down to his pockets. But his hopes of affording Rosamma blew out of the window with that starting bid. There wasn’t enough time to move that amount of his assets discreetly.

  “Nobody costs that much.” He whispered.

  “Exactly. A nobody costs upwards of a million dollars depending on looks and training.” And she was a supermodel whose training consisted of hands on material. Due to fund requirements, the people bidding on the auction were no doubt acquaintances of hers or Saverio’s. Revenge, unreciprocated lust, it’d all drive the price up, up, up.

  “What do we do?” Ekene whispered.

  Annoyance flickered across Faraji’s face. “I knew you wouldn’t even think of asking dad for help, so I did it myself.”

  Ekene wanted to be angry. He wanted to summon the desire to punch in his brother's nose, yet all that swirled in his chest was appreciation. His mouth opened. No sound came out.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Faraji muttered.

  A loud ringing came from his brother’s pocket, turning his dark skin a pallid shade of gray. About ten years out of date, he withdrew a flip phone that Ekene immediately recognized as a burner. Blood continued to drain from Faraji’s face the more he read the text. With a deep sigh, his brother went to the office desk and plopped behind the computer. “The preauction entertainment is about to start. That was the link to the streaming service.”

  Faraji typed the URL, referencing his flip phone when needed. Before he hit enter and turned on the camera feed, Ekene yelped, “Stop!”

  The invasion of another’s privacy never felt so… atrocious. That link, and whatever lay on the other side of it, was a one-way ticket to hell. One paved with the laments of an innocent woman publicly being violated against her will. While Ekene had to admit he enjoyed the depravity of sex and pain, this was something he never fantasized about.

  “If we win the auction, someone has to go collect her.”

  “Me. I’m bringing her back.” Ekene hissed, teeth bared in a feral display. “I’ll watch it. Alone.” It wasn’t much, but limiting the amount of witnesses to her humiliation felt like something.

  Faraji’s brow furrowed into a sharp V, but the green edges of his skin spoke volumes. His little brother didn’t want to be doing this, and he sure as fuck didn’t want to witness what’s about to happen.

  “You need to figure out who this guy’s inside source was. He couldn’t have pulled this off without help.” With a slow nod, they switched places, Ekene taking the computer desk and Faraji out of view of the monitor.

  A single button press is all it takes for Rosamma’s naked body to display on the monitor. Bruises coated her once clear skin, a high quality camera capturing the violets and golds beautifully. By clicking an instructional arrow, Ekene changed the camera angles to view every inch of her body. They were all set up with arousal in mind, seven eyes staring at a young woman bound face down to a king size bed with rope.

  Around the corners of the lenses existed the information he was examining this for. Over Rosamma’s left shoulder was a porthole which meant they were on a boat. The size of the room was rather large for a crewman’s cabin, which meant whoever was in the room with her was the captain or the owner. Only a fool would rent passage on a third party ship with an untrained pleasure slave tagging along. They had a bad habit of screaming.

  When the door to the bedroom opened, Ekene flipped to the lense focused on her backside. Angled the way it was, for a moment he could see a sliver past the steel door and bolts keeping Rosamma imprisoned. Then a silhouette entered, striding with confidence any man could possess when their prey was already declawed.

  “Some Guy.” Ekene breathed. The man was handsome; he had to give him that. Dapper was too mild of a word for the kind faced Greek god that slid a hand along Rosamma’s quivering flesh. “He’s wearing gloves.”

  “The ad promises she’d be ‘untouched’.” Faraji muttered. Green eyes flicked up from the computer screen, a sense of relief coupled with a horrid desire to keep watching washing over Ekene. Without the desk his brother would see the semi hard cock stretching his pants, and disgust would sour their relationship.

  “Why don’t you handle the research, and I’ll handle-” A sharp crack! crack! crack! burst from the computer speakers, followed by a hollow wail. “The rest.”

  Faraji’s legs knocked together from weakness. Murder, kidnap, narcotics, Uday had his children do it all. But never rape. That was the action of a lesser man, a beast in human clothing. “I’ll start putting together a believable cover for purchasing her.”

  Another scream came from the computer making Faraji blanch before running from the room. When his brother left, and he was certain no one would return, Ekene turned back to the screen. What he saw made blood rush to his cock, shame latching onto his soul.

  Red hand prints formed an angry block of color that would bruise by morning on each bouncy ass cheek. As his flipped through the camera angles, he hesitated on a closeup of her face. Flushed cheeks could be mistaken for pleasure, a slack jaw completing the illusion. Another click, and he was staring at the other end of her.

  Leather whipped her ass, the tongue of Guy’s crop kissing her thighs with each downward swing. Crack! and she’s howling in pain, slender limbs pulling at the rope restraints. There’s no escaping the professional knot work, not even tugging and twisting as she was. Warmth seeped from the timbre of Guy’s voice, making Ekene’s teeth grind together.

  “The more you move, the more bits and pieces I’ll hit.” To punctuate his warning Guy allowed the crop to land on her hip.

  “You waited!” she wailed, bucking against the mattress.

  “Of course. I only correct bad behavior.” Turned from the camera as he was, Ekene couldn’t see Guy’s smirk, but he heard it. Followed by the repetitive slap of skin as Rosamma’s new master rained blow after blow upon her honeyed skin. Countless red lines marred her backside and thighs, her screams reaching a high-pitched crescendo.

  It took twenty minutes of lashings separated into four sessions of beatings and rest for Guy to reach his intended destination. Rosamma’s body seized, a forlorn moan whispering from her throat. Her hips rose in the air like a beacon begging for more abuse, spasms shaking her body.

  Guy’s laughter crawled into Ekene’s head, eternally distorting the idea of face value kindness. He was the boy next door, if the boy next door was built like Grecian statue and possessed a hand heavier than marble. No amount of curly brown hair or bright grey eyes would wipe away the rottenness eating that man from the inside out.

  Suddenly all the camera feeds shut off. All but one. Enlarged on his computer screen, Ekene couldn’t help the raging erection kick started to life by the sight of Rosamma’s glistening wet pussy. This was just a confirmation of goods. Proof that the ‘Unicorn’ the buyers were interested in would really grow wet without emotional and psychological work.

  There’s no denying it. Not as Rosamma’s cunt continued to pulse and twitch from the orgasm a leather crop delivered. Fuck. Ekene closed the link, his breath growing ragged as he struggled not to grip his cock and imagine it was her sma
ll hand stroking it. Had she been a willing participant, her struggles would be ‘vanilla’ in the same community he frequented for one-night stands.

  For that very reason he was the worst person to save her, and the only one who could. If forced to participate Faraji would break on the first strike. And even if their father were willing to come to Italy… an unpleasant ache centered under Ekene’s diaphragm bubbled like heartburn at the thought of Uday touching Rosamma. Not because of Ekene’s discomfort with his father, but because he wanted to be the one whipping her ass all the way to salvation.

  He wanted it to be his cock that breached Rosamma’s virgin pussy if the situation called for it. And it would be.

  Capitulo Otto

  Rosamma didn’t wake thinking she was somewhere else. All the images of last night slammed right between her eyes in a hangover-esque sensation. Pain was a glass of cold water that didn’t allow the mercy of confusion. There were no blissful moments of foggy memory that she gradually worked her way out of. She knew exactly what happened to her from the unfamiliar throb of her backside and the hard surface underneath her. Only the end where she passed out seemed to be missing.

  In the middle of her beating Rosamma ceased to exist, her mind becoming a blank sheet of white hot pleasure. It was the tickling that drug her back to reality. The loud whisper of leather on beaten skin. Guy dragged his crop up her leg, over a hip, across a birdlike expanse of shoulders, then back down.

  With gradual precision, he made her relax against the mattress. Then the gentle kiss of his toy brushed her backside, and Rosamma’s muscles contracted. He slapped the place between her knees enough to sting, and she liked it. “Thank Master for coming.”

  Rosamma released a keening sob, the crust of sleep aggravating her eyes. Last night had been so messed up. When she didn’t follow his command, Guy gave three more strikes to her ass, each one harder than the last. She screamed her thanks for his beating her. It was then that he took a remote from inside his suit and pressed a button.