Natural Submission

by Carmen Hunter

  Guy’s laughter crushed the growing feeling when he moved towards his sex wall and pulled down a bamboo switch. “I’ll need some time to recharge after fucking your mouth.”

  Rosamma cringed, her eyes pinching shut in a mixture of shame and feigned dignity. It was the wrong thing to do. The switch descended in slow motion, a thunder clap impregnating the silence. Another swing hit, and two identical stripes of red lit up her chest. Realization finally processed in Rosamma’s brain, a loud howl of pain tearing from her sore throat.

  Her knees lifted to protect the weak parts of her body. Guy had a solution for that, and walked back to his row upon row of tools. Rope slid through his palms, snapping as he tugged the fibers to ensure they’d hold her strong legs. “If you allow me to do this without a fight, I’ll go easy on you. Don’t, and I’ll show you how bad it can get.”

  No response whispered past Rosamma’s knees, but when Guy grabbed a slender ankle and stretched her leg to its full length, she didn’t fight. A noose wrapped around the joint, before being connected to a metal ring welded to the floor. About two feet of rope stretched taut between flesh and anchor. The same happened to her other ankle, except another ring was opposite the first, leaving her legs spread wide still without a struggle.

  Ragged breaths were the only hint of her reluctance, the rapid rise and fall of Rosamma’s chest a hypnotizing pattern. When he struck her for the third time, this time across the thigh, Rosamma’s hips raised, an erotic groan revealing her delight. With the practiced swings of a tennis player, Guy pivoted his waist, reached his arm back, and decorated her skin with marks.

  On the hard strikes she screamed, on the gentle ones she moaned, spine arched for more. Slick leaked from her pussy, a glistening treat for the eyes. It was wrong, and Ekene would hate himself forever for doing it… But his cock ached, and there was no one to witness his shame.

  Guy’s switch smacked the wetness between her thighs, Rosamma’s body lifting for more with a wailing cry of shame.

  “Ask me to come.” Guy demanded. Not ready to admit defeat, Rosamma gave a weak shake of the head. Ekene took hold of his zipper and freed the throbbing dick inside, demanding satisfaction. Starting at the root, he stroked up to the head of his cock. When Guy slapped her cunt twice in quick succession, Ekene’s balls tightened at the sounds of her reluctant sighs. “Do it. Say, Master may I come? You might like my response.”

  Anticipation flared through Ekene’s blood. This was it. The true test to see if Rosamma was what Guy claimed - a natural submissive. She’d already relinquished more power than most in her situation. After only two days of captivity, the mind’s fight response should still run full blast, seeking a way to escape.

  “I want to come-” she gasped, an attempt at compromise. But bamboo doesn’t negotiate, and Guy demonstrated this with a series of blows. All of which grazed the area around her mound but never touched her clit. Rosamma’s scream of frustration was full of promise. “Please let me come, Master!”

  Ekene watched with glossy eyes, his hand stroking the length of himself faster and faster. Guy placed the shaft of his switch between her legs, spreading swollen lips for all the buyers to see. The tip rested against her clit, swishing back and forth to tickle Rosamma over the edge. Feet planted on the ground, she strained upwards, her pussy sucking at air as she came with a soundless scream.

  Cum sprayed across Ekene’s hand, jolting him back to reality as his body jerked and spasmed. With a roar, he swiped the monitor from his desk, metal scrap scattering across the floor.

  In the dead silence there was no one to judge as he cleaned shame from his skin and clothing.

  Chapitre Onze

  Guy left Rosamma tied to the floor and covered in her own cum. Never in his life had he reached release so quickly, let alone from a virgin’s half assed blowy. The promise of her pussy and the sweet undoing of his career whispered hot in his ears. Guy had to get out of there before he sank to his knees and provided video proof of a breach in contract.

  A quick check to the tablet battery revealed it was half charged. Smirk forming on his lips, Guy pressed a couple buttons to reveal the chat and the video on screen. Constrained as Rosamma was, he placed the tablet on the left of her thigh, propping it up with a built in stand.

  “Anything typed in the chat is now viewable to our little pain slut here.” He said.

  He spoke to an empty room with eight sets of ears listening. There were nine before the game began. Sometimes that happened. As soon as the fun bits finish, so does the viewer. Hey, their loss. Part of participating in the Unicorn package meant an ever changing list of surprises.

  Guy crouched beside Rosamma, wiping sweat soaked strands of hair behind her ears. “It would be in your best interest to make them like you. Blink if you understand.”

  Honey brown eyes closed, then opened halfway. Stuck between euphoria and agony, the bliss of her orgasm overpowered all other senses. She was drifting back to reality, enough that he felt comfortable leaving her to speak with his clients alone. How she behaved would be up to her. He wouldn’t reveal that the worst men in his circle of depravity bought fighters. Or that the kindest bought the well-behaved girls to cherish after punishment.

  If she didn’t figure it out by herself, that was her own problem. He’d given her all the hints she needed. Besides, it was in Rosamma’s nature to fold under a strong personality, that’s why he chose her. She’d be fine if she was smart.

  Guy went to the adjoining room without a backwards glance and made a beeline towards his desk. The clock revealed he’d spent much more time than he assumed with Rosamma. He caught the upward tilt of his mouth on the computer monitor's blank screen, and a scowl snapped into place to replace it.

  A quick glance at his business email revealed a slew of new messages. One was a confirmation that his ‘e-flyer’ was sent. Good. It mimicked the original Unicorn package advertisement he sent. A picture of Rosamma surrounded by clothing with hidden meanings behind the description. Except at the bottom of this one was a location and time.

  They were sailing there now at reduced speed in a private freight ship. About a thousand knots away, the travel from Rome, Italy to Cannes, France wouldn’t take the seventy-two hours his plan required. Going a third of the speed meant the other cargo they carried would arrive late… unless scheduled delivery was also three days out.

  At most, there might be suspicion from customs about why they shipped early and traveled slow. But neither of those were a crime, and a healthy bribe ensured the discrepancy needed to pull this off. He hovered the confirmation, then clicked the email right above it. It was the first of five RSVP’s from the sicko’s watching his camera feed.

  He sent the message the same time he was dishing out punishment for a reason. And that reason was already paying off. Next email. A grimace formed a V between his brows. It was a demand for payment, and a lament of guilt all rolled into one.

  With a growl he sent a quick response: You get paid when I do.

  And not a moment sooner. People have a habit of gaining morals and talking to the cops if they get their cash before the sale of human flesh goes through. People living with themselves was always a problem after bribing them.

  Whatever, Guy was certain the self-condemnation was an act to save face. What kind of person wanted a human trafficker to think better of them? Whatever, he didn’t give a damn. The only thing worth his time for the next twenty-four hours would be Rosamma.

  Possibly a nap to recharge.

  ∞∞∞

  “Please help me.” Was the first thing she said to the tablet when Guy left. “Please, if someone good is watching, please help me.”

  I love how broken your voice is. ~R

  Your screams made me come slave, scream for me again. ~ L

  A series of messages just like those continued to scroll past the screen, none of them addressing her plea for help except to compliment her begging. Beg more. Bile rose in Rosamma’s throat, threatening to spew across th
e tiny dungeon’s floor. What came out was a high pitched scream, her voice breaking as she called on the better nature of eight - no now it was nine - monsters.

  Good girl.

  Good girl.

  Good girl.

  One after the other, each message came initialed, so Rosamma could know who she pleased. Then out of the darkness, the first glimmer of light.

  Did you enjoy it? ~E

  It twisted Rosamma’s stomach to view such a horrid question with relief. But whoever this E was, he was the only creature sending a message that inquired about her. From chattering teeth she grit out her answer. “N-No, Sir… E.” She must be going insane. The name Sir E made her want to laugh. All Rosamma wanted was for him to know it was him - Rosamma was talking to him.

  What about it didn’t you like? ~E

  The question boiled in her blood, threatening to erupt in a fury of hissing howls. Rosamma bit into her tongue to hold back the onslaught of curses. Guy wasn’t wrong. This was her chance to pick and choose the Master she wanted. This mysterious E might be soft enough in his handling of her that she could escape after the auction.

  “I- I-” What would make a man she knew nothing about, happy? “I didn’t like that it was Guy… Sir E.” Her eyes snapped closed as lewd comments blurred by, each of them asking if she’d like to try their cock instead. Strong thigh muscles strained against the rope holding her ankles in place, trying to bring them up and form a shield of knees.

  There was no give from the binding, and no escape. She had to face this head on. Rosamma wrestled her eyelids open and brought them back to the message board. It’s impossible to ignore the miniature video of herself turning black and blue with each passing minute. She forced herself not to think about it.

  Figure out a way to seduce this E without being able to touch, or see, or even hear him. That’s what all of her focus needed to be on. Her lips felt chalk like in their dryness, so she licked them. Another slew of pings announced her admirers appreciated the sight. Did E?

  Rosamma forced her eyes back open, and with a ragged breath she lowered her gaze to the chat. Before she could begin scanning the awful solicitations of sex acts, things that would make the nun from her highschool faint, another ping dragged her eyes to the bottom of the list.

  Tell me about the parts you did like. ~E

  A flutter in her heart made Rosamma’s teeth gnash together. That’s so fucked up. It didn’t matter that he waited to type his message, making sure she would see it. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t considerate. Those emotions were just the past twenty-four hours bouncing around in her head, latching onto the one bit of kindness it found.

  “I liked-” her eyes rolled randomly across the room, trying to find a convincing lie. What made her traitorous body grow wet? “Hands in my hair.”

  Boring. ~L

  Rosamma’s toes twitched, and she licked her lips again. No message from E popped up, even as a few more messages prompted her for more. What part of the punishment did she like? Her eyes closed again, lips pursed as anxiety threatened to spill over. “I liked the burn of the switch.” If not E, she needed a back up. Maybe a man who enjoyed a lighter dosing of pain?

  Where did you like the sensation the most? Across your nipples, or was it your pussy you enjoyed the most? ~E

  Color bloomed on Rosamma’s cheeks, her mouth dropping open. “That’s none of your business!” she shouted, chest heaving. The words bad girl seared into her mind as all nine initials repeated them. E’s was the last in the list.

  Does the princess not like profanity? ~E

  Why did those words had a mocking lilt to them? Maybe teasing. God, it was just her own deranged mind trying to make a human connection to words on a screen. Ones that asked if she liked a red pussy.

  “N- No, Sir E.” She whispered, nibbling her bottom lip before glancing at the wall. Though she couldn’t see it, Guy centered a small camera in front of her. If she aimed right, it would be like looking into this man’s eyes through the screen. “I’m sorry for my outburst, sir.”

  A few people harshly declared she was far from forgiven; others embraced her apology with open arms. But it wasn’t their responses that had Rosamma’s heart thundering as she waited.

  I appreciate your regret. But you’ll still need to be punished, brat. ~E

  Dread wiggled low in her belly, followed by a burst of warmth between her legs. In her shame, Rosamma rotated her knees inwards, attempting to block the sight of her impending arousal.

  I saw that. ~E

  Open up those legs and let me have a look. ~E

  She knew the initial this freak chose was a coincidence, but the image of Ekene flashed across her mind. Hands behind his back, stance firm as a rock, his glimmering green eyes glinting with danger and… promise. Her knees fell open, and she shut her eyes to block the torrent of approving pings.

  Rosamma waited for the last ping! before daring to look. This time when she read the words awaiting her, she saw Ekene’s lips moving. Good girl.

  Chapitre Douze

  Rosamma didn’t know how long Guy left her to speak with the men hoping to buy her. By the dryness of her throat, and the coughs it caused, it was at least a few hours. She knew it was over when the screen on the tablet went black, and the messages disappeared. Were they gone forever? Did whatever website Guy use transcribe his crimes, as blackmail or insurance?

  Did the battery die? Probably that. A man doesn’t successfully steal a supermodel off a trireme replica in a helicopter while being stupid. Even though it sounded stupid.

  “Did you enjoy being a little slut for my clients?” Guy demanded as he stormed into the room. He arranged his expression into a neutral mask. One that stretched tight over his skull to reveal roiling frustration. This fear didn’t shoot between her legs like the image of Ekene commanding she open them.

  “No, Master.” She cringed.

  His lips twitched, and she didn’t know if it was out of approval or anger. “You forgot the first rule.”

  Rosamma’s eyes dropped, the constant drum of her heart invading each of her senses one by one. “I’m sorry, Master.”

  “Are you?” he growled, stepping between her spread eagle legs. From the tingle of her scalp, Rosamma knew he leveled a gaze cold as steel at her. “Are you sure you don’t wish it was someone else holding you captive?”

  The conversation with E flashed through her mind. Specifically, when she claimed that the part she hated the most about her imprisonment and punishment... was that it was Guy doing the punishing. “I was only trying to make them like me.”

  “Which would make you a liar-”

  She tried to interrupt by crying out, “You said to, Master!”

  “Meaning any word coming from those pretty lips of your are worthless.” But he continued speaking as if she had said nothing.

  His stance shifted and Rosamma prepared for the worst. Body tensed for the blow, surprise and pain ripped through her muscles as Guy released tje shackles restraining her arms. She screamed, hot fire tearing into her shoulders at the sudden rotation as they fell to her sides. Only by sitting still did the agony in her muscles gradually fade to an unpleasant, pounding numbness.

  “Master, wh-what are you doing?” Was his irrational jealousy demanding he whip her more black and blue than she already was? Would he come up with something worse than taping her shame and distributing it to who knew how many people?

  “Rule number three, you will request Master’s permission to speak.” He snapped, striding to her legs. When he crouched, his gaze came up, low enough to meet hers. Rosamma squeaked, shoving her eyes upwards. And he chuckled. The bastard was laughing at her sorry attempts to obey and remember his rules.

  Her leg came free, but despite the urge to close her thighs and block him out, the twinge in her muscles reminded her of what happened to bad girls. Calloused fingers ran up the inside of her naked legs, testing her ability to remain frozen. Another chuckle, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming in fr
ustration.

  “A couple of beatings, some cock,” he said, with an incredulous sigh of delight, “and you’re already so well behaved. Gods above Rosamma, you outshine my other girls in every way.”

  A violent shiver took hold of Rosamma at the admission. It was better not to think about the other women who were being strung up and trained just like her. Self preservation was all that mattered; she couldn’t be sympathetic towards others. With Guy’s constant flux in mood, she had enough to worry about.

  When Guy moved from her feet to his perverted sex wall, a crack of light coming from the door made her freeze. That small amount of tension sent spasms down her limbs; a cruel laugh coming from her side at her desire to flee. Rosamma would collapse in seconds if she tried. But his back was turned, so she had to try.

  Palms flat against the ship's metal wall, Rosamma tried to push off the floor. Her feet were swollen and numb, but she forced them to be still as she tried to stand. When her body was halfway up, bent in the position of a bridge, she collapsed to the floor with a dull thud. After days of starvation and Guy’s ‘attention’ she was too weak to even stand.

  Tension made his arms and back ripple with ill intentions at the sound, yet he didn’t turn from his wall of fun. Another minute or two ticked by, and when Guy finished with his selection, he graced her with his attention. Between long graceful fingers, slid a pink leash complete with a leather collar covered in rhinestones. Except rhinestone didn’t sparkle like that.

  Real diamonds. She’d worn them a thousand times for expensive jewelry adds. Her own collection was the envy of thousands of models. But she’d never worn such priceless gems on a more undeserving article of… enslavement.

  “Move an inch, and you’ll see what I do to girls who try to escape.” Annoyance mixed with disappointment in Guy’s voice, digging a hollow center in her chest. It was a test. One that he expected her to fail, despite hoping she wouldn’t.

  While his hands slid the collar around her throat and locked the leash in place, she didn’t move. Rosamma got through the moment by vowing to always run when given the chance. She may be a ‘natural submissive’, she might have even enjoyed a lifestyle of consensual BDSM with the right man, but she would never let Guy or anyone else break her.