Natural Submission

by Carmen Hunter

  Guy would show her what to do here. If she did what was expected of her, then maybe Rosamma could figure out a way to escape. Make the buyer trust her obedience, then betray that trust. It could work. It would work. So when he lowered a hand under her nose, she took it, allowing him to raise her to her feet.

  Her eyes remained down, aimed at the assortment of dress slacks her buyers wore. From quality, style, and an occasional logo, Rosamma knew these men had money to waste. A few huddled together, whispering and gesturing at her. Those who chose to remain separate from the crowd shuffled a bit closer now that she was present.

  “Gentlemen. Each of you are in possession of a special invitation that promises a package designed to your specific tastes. Meet your package.” Guy’s warm voice boomed through the courtyard as he lifted Rosamma’s arm and forced her into an elegant spin. A few laughs and claps graced her ears making the world tilt on its axis. “As some of you may know, my training regimen averages around ten weeks. I’ve reached this level of obedience in three days.”

  More applause, and the whispers of discussion became a slight roar.

  “We also got more of a live show in the past.” Someone shouted, earning a slew of agreements. God, how many women had he done this to. And if these men bought slaves once, twice, or three times before… what happened to them?

  “I suppose you did.” Guy’s own laughter joining the mix was the only warning Rosamma received before white lace was torn in half along the trail of her spine. All resolve to obey disappeared from her mind in that awful moment. She ran, guy allowing her a few steps. Then the leather on her throat constricted, dragging her to the ground with a hard thud.

  Hands descended on her body, connected to an assortment of masks instead of human faces. They tore and rendered the seams on her clothing, ripping her apart along with the fabric as they jeered and slobbered over her screams and wails to stop. Eager hands groped her breasts, clawing at the clasp of her bra, while more buyers tried to pry open her thighs.

  A sharp whistle split the night sky, and before she knew it, Rosamma was laying under the open sky in nothing but torn underwear. “Come to Master, slave.”

  There was no argument. She scrambled to her hands, freezing when she tried to stand. After a seconds thought, Rosamma slid to her knees and crawled to Guy’s voice, head still lowered. Behave, behave, behave, hammered against her temple, a barrage of basic instruction that she couldn’t seem to follow.

  “As you can see, our little Rose still needs some work. How many of you would like to help with that?” Guy shouted, the roar of cheers deafening for such as small crowd. “Would you like to see more before we start the bidding?”

  It went like that for what felt to Rosamma like hours. He spanked her for all to see, commenting on how red her skin became. He made her stretch her body tall like a ballerina, showing off how long lasting and pretty the bruises on her skin were. He even made her crawl to each of them and give a taste of what it’d be like to be called master.

  There were some complaints about the lack of excitement in Rosamma’s demonstration compared to his others. Guy put it to rest with a reminder that the buyer got to complete her training. He went easier on her for their benefit. He went easier on her. Did that mean whoever won the auction was guaranteed to be a thousand times worse?

  Too soon the betting began, and shouts and calls for ludicrous amounts of money echoed around the prison courtyard. She was about to find out.

  Chapitre Quatorze

  Ekene wasn’t the only man hiding an erection in their group, but he was likely the only man who felt guilty about it. Despite the hatred that reared its head whenever Guy touched her, a magnetic force pulled Ekene to Rosamma’s pathetic cries. He wanted to be the one earning those sounds, and he wanted her to thank him afterwards.

  For real. Not because some inhumane fuck told her to. When the bidding started, his and every other man’s hand went up. Ekene watched as his money dwindled million by million. Every now and then he’d drop from the race, only to jump back in so as not to arouse suspicion.

  As dollar amounts spouted like a fountain in Guy’s direction, Ekene found his focus purely on Rosamma. She cowered against her captors leg, nails digging into his pants leg in a beautiful need for protection. How many here wanted to exploit that need and become the sole focus of her devotion?

  With Ekene there, at least one. When a tear slid down Rosamma’s cheek, that desire became a demand. “Sixty million dollars.” his voice slashed through all the others, earning an eerie silence after so much shouting. It was a gross overbid, but he didn’t care. She was going to hit that price either way. At least this way, he might intimidate the others into halting their bids.

  “Sixty million going once.”

  Ekene watched Rosamma’s face, his thoughts so potent and loud he swore she could hear them. Look up. He wanted her to look at him and prove that she wasn’t beyond saving.

  “Going twice.”

  Disobey, Rosamma. Look at me.

  “Sold, to our very own Mr. E!”

  Warm honey brown eyes leapt up in surprise, catching the emerald green of his gaze. Confused recognition flashed across her face before Rosamma’s chin dropped back to her collarbone. Heat spread from Ekene’s heart to the rest of his body, warming the stiffness from his joints. Good fucking girl.

  A few men pat his back in reluctant congratulations, spurring him towards Guy and his prize. Like the rest of this ordeal, there was a little showboating, and worse - a promise for more to come. But he couldn’t focus on that, Rosamma was his top priority. Something Guy seemed to understand, considering he finished his speech to the others with a farewell.

  “I believe our lucky buyer would like to test his new merchandise. Please enjoy yourself for the rest of the night with my complimentary entertainment. Everything, is of course, for sale.”

  Men with guns led a collection of naked women from inside of Fort Royal. All of them wore identical black collars with differing prices stamped on them. None were as pretty as Rosamma - but then again comparing people to supermodels was never fair. The highest price attached to their collars only reached a few million. Which was nothing compared to his own exorbitant spending.

  If it wouldn’t raise suspicion, he would buy them all. But it would. So he stayed silent as his fellow auctioneers walked the line of new product and took Rosamma’s pink leash when offered. It took Guy’s boot nudging her ass for her to crawl to Ekene’s side and sit prim and pretty.

  “Now what.” He rasped, unable to tear his eyes from her angelic form. There’s no stopping the sudden engorgement of his cock as blood rushes below his waistband. Guy pressed the only thing that could make his erection disappear into Ekene’s spine. The muzzle of a gun.

  “First, we have a few things to discuss.” A feminine scream stole the severity of the moment and Ekene’s attention. When he dared to turn his head, the image of four men sharing the same woman seared into his mind like an iron. Some of the other buyers were making their way to the speedboats, a dejected slump to their shoulders.

  Another scream, and a second slave was the victim to the lust of monsters. “Yeah, it ain’t that hard to figure out why I’m here.”

  “You want to talk in private, or do you want to air your dirty laundry in front of my guests?”

  “I kinda like the view.” Ekene drawled, sliding a hand into his pocket as if relaxing. The gun pressed to his spine lowered an inch. Distrust and hesitation kept Guy from making the fatal mistake of taking a step back, as the gun remained too close to grab without dying.

  “Spill it then.” Guy hissed, too low to overhear by anyone but them. “What the fuck is Rosamma’s former body guard doing buying her as a sex slave.” And her. She could hear.

  “Wha-” Rosamma’s question turned into a wet gag as Ekene drew the belt tighter than necessary. He knew Guy would see the brutality and enjoy it. The gun lowered another inch, and he took a slow breath. Home plate was a few feet away, then he
and Rosamma would be on their way somewhere safe and sound.

  “I think the better question is why did the head of a multi-million dollar company take a job guarding little miss priss.”

  “Sounds like a shitty knock-knock joke.” Guy scoffed. “But I’ll bite. Why d'you agree to it.”

  “Blackmail. No offense, but if I had put in one percent of my effort into keeping Rosamma safe, then this wouldn’t have happened.” Ekene imbued his words with enough confidence to make a mountain lift its skirts and move the fuck over. The gun was gone.

  “I want a name. Who the fuck has something on you?” At this point Guy’s questioning was for posturing, and any information Ekene gave him was just another point in his favor.

  “My dad. He threatened to pull his support for my company if I didn’t help. Saverio and he are close, or Saverio has some deep dark something on my dad. Don’t know, don’t really give a damn. But when my network got hold of one of your flyers, something just... clicked.”

  Guy’s laugh made Ekene want to cringe. The sincerity was sweet, believable, and charming - he’d have no trouble luring all kinds of women to his van. But once in, they’d never get out. “That’s called retribution, my guy.”

  “Nah. Retribution happens when I pay you with his money.”

  “Let’s get this squared away then, shall we?” Guy gripped Ekene’s shoulder in camaraderie, giving him a friendly shake. “We’ve got a few details to go over about the Unicorn package, mostly about the training aspect.”

  ∞∞∞

  Guy and Ekene spoke as if Rosamma wasn’t there. In a sense, she wasn’t. How could she be when they talked about things that no other person could overhear? She was just a thing to these men. The bodyguard who was supposed to keep her safe, and the slaver who made him look like a fool.

  She never blamed Ekene for what happened to her until now. No one could have anticipated a helicopter attack on a super model. That kind of thing doesn’t happen - there’s no money in destroying entertainers. But it turns out there’s plenty of cash to be made by selling them. Even if it cost ten million to capture and hold her, Rosamma would still make Guy a fifty million dollar profit.

  “Follow me.” Guy said, turning on his heel and striding towards the sheek helicopter sitting at the edge of the courtyard, pilot on standby. Instinct drove Rosamma to try to follow, only for Ekene’s grip on her leash to tighten.

  “You serve me now, girl.” He growled, the sound reverberating through her heart and shattering it. After all those times she used his face to make her time with Guy bearable, it felt like a betrayal to know how he really felt. Now it made sense why it took so long for Ekene to dethaw on the plane; he hated her long before they met.

  “Yes, Master.” She whispered, unable to keep from rubbing her jaw against his leg like a cat. She wanted him to be her knight in shining armor so bad - she needed him to be. Anyone else, and she might have escaped. Not with Ekene. If the only reason Guy beat him was because of a lack of care, what hope did she have?

  Despite the dismal thoughts dancing through her mind, when they began their walk towards the helicopter, a spark of arousal lit between her thighs. The weight of her leash was loose in his hand, a device for punishment and ownership, instead of the noose Guy wielded. But Ekene strangled her too… when she spoke out of turn.

  “Master, may I ask a question?” she whispered at the ground to keep her mouth hidden from sight.

  Tension tightened Ekene’s muscles for a moment before he let out a soft breath to relax. “Speak.”

  “Are you here to save me?” Ekene missed a step, almost drawing attention with his stumble. It was a stupid question. But he’d been her rock for what felt like years, not three days. And he’d been the Mr. E who enticed her arousal even behind a chat screen.

  A harsh whistle came from his nose, and she couldn’t help herself. Rosamma glanced at Ekene’s face, meeting the intense emerald of his gaze. A spark zipped between the air keeping them apart, scattering goosebumps across the canvas of her body.

  “What’s the hold up?” Guy barked, tapping an impatient tune on the side of the chopper with his knuckles. Ekene jerked his head up and offered an oily smirk.

  “Rosamma’s just asking if I fantasized about brutalizing her since the moment we met. The answer is ``yes``.” Not even Guy’s laugh could kill the joy soaring in her heart. Maybe it was a cruel lie meant to garner good behavior until they could drag her to the whipping room. In this moment, Rosamma didn’t care. That was code for he was here to save her.

  A gentle tug on her leash prompted her to keep moving, a strange warmth making her skin tingle as she followed him. She didn’t mind walking behind him like this, and she wouldn’t even if there were a hundred eyes on her. If Rosamma cared that people saw her underwear clad body, a modeling career would’ve been a bad way to make a living.

  When they reached the side of the chopper, the blades spun and kicked up dirt. Rosamma coughed, covering her nose with an arm to block the debris so close to her face. Warmth encased her bicep and pulled her up. “If you behave, you can sit on my lap in the helicopter instead of on the floor. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” She murmured, keeping her gaze lowered and submissive. A hum of approval lit a spark of warmth in Rosamma’s belly as Ekene swept her into his arms. She wanted to melt against his chest and release a kittenish purr. But that would blow his cover.

  False shivers racked her body as Ekene climbed into the aircraft, his hands squeezing in a combination of appreciation and approval. Or that’s how she read it. Guy would think it was to keep a good grip on her. One of them was right, and Rosamma prayed it was her.

  When they slid into place on leather seats, Ekene positioned her to sit like a doll on his lap. Her legs hung over his knees, and her head rested on his shoulder. Strong fingers brushed her thigh, stroking a lazy path that made the hairs on her arms raise. Held against Ekene’s chest like this, Rosamma was brave enough to peek at Guy from the corner of her eye.

  Jealousy. It burned hot behind his eyes as he watched the hand fondling her thigh. The twisted desire to spread her legs wide and let Guy watch as Ekene took away his toy was overwhelming. If it would hurt him, Rosamma wanted to do it. But her better nature fought the impulse, and she remained still as the helicopter lifted into the air.

  “So where are we going? I have a plane ready to go at the airport.” Ekene drawled, keeping his voice relaxed and casual.

  “That’s not going to happen.” Rosamma felt the tension roll through Ekene’s body, yet he remained silent, allowing Guy his chance to speak. “We have a set up in the forest outside of Cannes, that’s where we train our normal girls. You may stay the full duration of this slave’s training and be the only one who touches her. If your schedule doesn’t allow for a vacation, you can leave some training to me, or I can even complete the training process.”

  “That wasn’t part of the deal.” Ekene snapped, his nails digging into the tender part of Rosamma’s thigh.

  “Training human obedience is more than violence and requires mentorship just to do a shit job at it. If one of my girls escapes, or worse, misbehaves with my name attached to her-” Guy clicked his tongue. “All of my clients disappear. These are your options; if you don’t like it, then I’ll go to the next highest bidder. Mr. L I believe.”

  A soft keening escaped her lips at the name, true shaking claiming her body. That was the man who always demanded Guy do something worse to her. Who wanted her to scream so he could revel in it. Rosamma cuddled against Ekene’s chest, his hand mindlessly coming up to stroke her hair.

  “Aw. She likes you better than the alternative.” Guy sneered.

  “You said it’d take ten weeks?” Ekene growled.

  “With her, we can do it in six. Maybe sooner.”

  Hot puffs of air ruffled the top of Rosamma’s hair when Ekene sighed. The tight grip on her leg disappeared, returning to a gentle massage. “I can do that. But I’ll need to make a few phone calls
to manage my affairs while I’m gone.”

  Guy grinned. “First things first. We have a wire transfer to do.”

  Chapitre Quinze

  Even in darkness, the wilderness of Cannes was breathtaking. The house hidden beneath the foliage more so. It was a testament to modern French architecture. Stilts lifted the majority of the house off of the ground, the walls were sleek white lines that formed interesting angles. As the helicopter descended, Rosamma saw more of the building. The two stories, the second-story porch, the sliding glass doors.

  And the helipad in the backyard. God, how much money did this man have before this one transaction? Enough to put a lot of evil in the world. Now he had more, and the means to continue. In six weeks would another girl visit this training house before being sold?

  Or would they be like Rosamma and already purchased by a master ready to take the belt to them? Either way, there would be no knight in shining armour coming to save them. Silent tears slid down her cheeks and soaked into Ekene’s suit. The helicopter touched land, gave a sputtering whirr, before turning off.

  When the door opened, Rosamma waited for a soft pat of permission on her thigh before moving. She tried to slip to her knees, but Ekene caught her arm. “You’ll not crawl on rough surfaces.” His voice was hard, a command. But Guy’s eyes narrowed at the kindness. “I’m the only thing that will bruise or bloody you, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” She whispered, appreciation blooming in Rosamma’s chest as she waited for the men. Ekene smacked her ass to get her walking, the possession of his action mixing pleasure into the appreciation. It didn’t feel wrong and dirty enjoying these things with him, like it did with Guy.

  Stepping past the threshold of this house didn’t sign away her life - so long as it was Ekene holding her leash. The inside was just as beautiful as the outside. Guy positioned designer furniture with minimalist intentions. Couches, a little table. Brown covered the kitchen walls, while white covered the living areas. And on every door and window… an electronic keypad.