Spiked Roses: The Complete Top Shelf Series

by Alta Hensley

  “Those poor women,” I whispered as we walked. “Those assholes beat their slaves.”

  He nodded but stared ahead.

  Alec

  As we walked into the ballroom, the fucking of my brain only got worse. I knew what the ritual was. How fucked up this was going to be on Makayla, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to get her out of this unscathed. The only possibility was to just hope she could endure so we could leave with our lives.

  A nice and tidy row of dildos sat lined up on a bench. I knew they were all bolted down since I had helped carry in the piece of shit contraption into the ballroom years and years ago. Had I known then that I would be looking at the dildo bench with disgust for what they were about to do to someone I loved... Each girl would be required to sit down, force that large fake cock up her ass, and sit like that for the rest of the ritual.

  My stomach twisted to the point of near pain.

  I looked at Makayla and could see that she knew what that bench of plastic dicks was for. She knew and yet she kept walking forward. She didn’t scream. She didn’t try to flee. She didn’t look at me and beg for help. No. Not Makayla.

  She only marched forward to accept her fucked up fate.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, hating that I was so damn weak and couldn’t force our way out of here. I knew I maybe could… but then Rhett would die for sure and Makayla would never forgive me.

  As we approached the bench, she looked up at me. Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “Am I to sit on this?”

  I nodded.

  Others entered the room, and the cries and screams began. Masters began forcing their slaves onto the bench. Howls of pain and fear bounced off the walls and threatened to shatter the stained-glass windows.

  “Go slow,” I whispered, trying to block out all the misery around me. “You took this size last night. You can do it.”

  She continued to stare at me as if she needed my gaze to give her strength. She too seemed to be blocking out all the chaos all around. She reached out her hands so I could steady her and give her balance as she eased herself down on the dildo.

  “Stop,” I said. “Put the cock in your pussy first. Get it slick with your juices. It will help ease it in your ass.”

  She paused—her eyes so fucking wide and beautiful—but then shifted her weight to do just that.

  Was I really going to let her sit on this cruel sexual torture device? I couldn’t!

  I couldn’t!

  I was not a monster! I wasn’t a weak piece of shit, pathetic monster who would do nothing and allow this any longer. I had to do something.

  I needed to die before I let this happen. She wouldn’t fight. She wouldn’t beg, not that it would do any good. So, she needed me.

  I needed to fight for Makayla!

  “Stop!” I said again, with enough force to startle her. I would throw myself down on a sword before I let her pierce a part of her soul by such an evil sexually deviant creation.

  “What?” she whispered, confusion in those eyes that were somehow slowly melting all the twisted roots that had been surrounding my heart. Twisted roots that no one had been able to penetrate before. Twisted roots that were meant to keep out any humanity, any goodness, and any chance of love. Her innocent and broken-soul eyes slashed at those roots like a mighty dagger.

  “I’m going to put my hands around your neck,” I whispered into her ear, making it look as if I was threatening her. “I want you to struggle, gasp, and do whatever you can to make it appear like I am strangling you. You have to make it believable. If you don’t, we both die.”

  She nodded, but never said a word.

  Standing to my full height, I put my arms around her collared neck and nodded for her to begin. She let out a scream, then a gasp, some gagging, and allowed the tears to fall. She clawed at my hands. She writhed in fake pain. She acted like she was having the last breath stolen from her.

  “You will never say those words to me!” I boomed in my most menacing voice. “You are nothing but a worthless slave. Replaceable. You mean nothing! And I am going to show these slaves all around you what happens to women who dare call their Masters names!”

  She continued to struggle as I threw her down on the ground.

  You will kneel at my knees until I say otherwise!” I said, hoping my dictate would be accepted by all.

  I glared at all the women who had stopped fighting out of fear. They had just watched one of their own be nearly strangled right before their eyes. I hated that this act forced them all to give up their fight and submit to the awful act of sitting on the dildo, but I couldn’t save them all. I could only save Makayla. It was all I could do… for now.

  I looked at one man and then another. “This pet of mine will rest at my feet where she belongs.” I turned toward the terrified slaves. “The rest of the Masters will do the same if you all don’t fucking listen to them. They are your Masters!” My booming voice resonated across the room, and I knew I had scared them all, which was my desired effect.

  With my heart beating harder than it ever had, and Makayla’s submissive body kneeling under me, I walked to the far corner of the room tugging her harshly behind me. When I realized no one was stopping me, and no one was suspicious in the slightest, I kept walking until Makayla and I would be out of the direct line of sight of everyone. With long, confident strides, I marched like a man of power to the beat of my own destiny. No one even raised one eyebrow at my real intent to keep Makayla from being anally impaled like the others.

  Or so I thought.

  Two brotherhood members walked up to me and said, “She needs to be on the bench with all the others. Beat her, or do what you want later. But the ritual is about to start and we need her seated.”

  My gut tightened and it took everything inside of me not to just beat the shit out of the men looking at me, but I also knew that if I made a scene, I was putting Makayla at risk. I could be booted out of the mansion and who knew what would happen to Makayla and who she would be assigned to.

  No.

  If she had to go through the ritual, then it had to at least be with me. As awful as this would be, at least it would be with me.

  Lifting her up and guiding her back to the bench, I whispered, “I’m sorry. Understand I am doing what I have to do.”

  “I know,” she answered lightly. “I trust you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Makayla

  Alec eased me down on the dildo. Thankfully, because of his stretching the night before, because of my own pussy juices coating the phallic instrument, and my prepared mental condition, the dildo going inside of me wasn’t as bad as it could be. Especially, when I could hear the cries of women who weren’t prepared and had no idea what would happen to them. It stretched me, and forced me to try to hold my weight on my toes so as not to put my full weight on the bench, but I could survive this. I would survive this.

  “Men,” the master of ceremonies said in a deep booming voice. “Let the ritual begin!” He then began to chant in a low, haunting voice, “Credo in Deum Patrem omnipotentem, Creatorem caeli et terrae. Et in Iesum Christum, Filium eius unicum, Dominum nostrum, qui conceptus est de Spiritu Sancto, natus ex Maria Virgine, passus sub Pontio Pilato, crucifixus, mortuus, et sepultus, descendit ad infernos, tertia die resurrexit a mortuis, ascendit ad caelos, sedet ad dexteram Dei Patris omnipotentis, inde venturus est iudicare vivos et mortuos. Credo in Spiritum Sanctum, sanctam Ecclesia.”

  Six men stood, three on each side with white canes and thumped the ground hard.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four.

  Five.

  Six.

  On the sixth strike of the cane against marble, Alec unbuttoned his pants, unzipped, and pulled out his large penis. In shock, I glanced down the line of captive women to see that each of the men who stood before them had done the exact same thing, and penis after penis went as far as I could see.

  “Sl
aves. I would like for you to formally meet the man who has claimed you for the ritual. Open up your mouths, and greet your Master who you are to obey at all times. Open wide. Now.”

  His last word was so sharp that I actually flinched when the booming voice echoed off the walls. I remained frozen, not knowing what to do. As simple as the command sounded, the actual idea of having Alec’s dick in my mouth as I sat helpless before him with a dildo up my butt seemed impossible. I could hear cries and gags around me, the sound of faces being smacked for undoubtedly doing as I was—nothing. Although when Alec’s hand moved to my face, a slap did not occur. Instead, he reached for my chin, and pulled my face to the tip of his hardened flesh. He continued to hold my chin as he pressed past my lips and rested heavy on my tongue. I didn’t have a choice but to open wide as the thickness of his member filled every inch of open space in my mouth. The weight was heavy against my tongue, and as he pressed deeper inside, I struggled not to gag as his full size touched the back of my throat. He released my chin and placed both of his hands on each side of my head, and gently began rocking his hips. The friction of my lips along his smooth and velvety skin caused his penis to twitch and grow even bigger.

  I looked up at him, and for the first time since he entered the room, he wasn’t staring at me. Instead, he had his eyes closed, his head tilted back slightly, and it appeared as if I were giving him pleasure by having my mouth around him. I glanced to my right and saw the woman beside me crying as her Master jammed his veiny penis forcefully into her mouth. At least Alec kept his pushing and pulling at a steady and almost gentle rhythm. I wasn’t crying, nor was I gagging anymore. Instead, I focused on the actual act itself. Tasting the saltiness, smelling the musky odor, and feeling the black hairs that circled his sex brush up against my face each time he drove as far into my mouth as he could. I simply held my position, kept my mouth open, and tried to tune out all the moans, cries, choking and mewling all around me. I think it helped that Alec kept his hands firmly placed on my head. It offered me the support and guidance that I so desperately needed.

  “That’s it, slaves,” I heard the master of ceremonies call out from a distance. “Suck those cocks. Worship that cock in your mouth. You are to do exactly as your Master orders. The penalty for disobeying orders is death. So, make your choices wisely. Is your pride worth dying over?”

  The entire time the man spoke, Alec kept his pace. In and out he went, plundering my mouth with his cock. As time went on, I could hear the sound of deep moans coming from the other men beside me, more gagging, and even spitting all around. A few slaps, even more cries, but I ignored all. I simply watched Alec’s face tighten, his breathing increase, and his thrusts grow in aggression. A deep moan came from the depths of his belly and exited his lips on a growl. Hot liquid shot from his cock and coated the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow the salty, milky matter. My body heaved, and I desperately needed to inhale a deep breath but his member still blocked my air passage. A new sense of panic set in when I wondered if I would choke, but was granted a reprieve when Alec’s cock pulled out of my mouth completely. I gasped and shook, but managed to not vomit as some women did around me. Alec released my head from his grip, and with a gentle touch of his fingertip, he swiped at the remnants of his release that seeped from the corner of my mouth.

  After a few moments, as I struggled to regain my breathing and normal heart rate, I heard, “We have entered the next stage of the ritual, slaves. Congratulations. Your part of the ritual is over. Although, you are to be on your very best behavior and remain planted where you are.”

  I glanced up at Alec who slightly nodded at me, and I knew he meant it when he said all would be all right. We were halfway through the dark tunnel out of hell. Almost there. Almost there.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alec

  The women weren’t allowed to move, and I didn’t want to try to remove Makayla off the bench again and draw attention to us. Not now. It was almost over. Or at least the part involving Makayla was over. She had survived the part of the ritual that involved her, and now all she had to do was sit and remain quiet.

  Though I knew that would be next to impossible soon enough, and it would be asking too much for anyone to do so.

  “The final part of the ritual is ready to commence,” the master of ceremonies announced. “Bring in the players.”

  I leaned down to Makayla’s ear and whispered, “Remain quiet. I know this will be hard, but don’t say or do a thing.”

  She nodded, and I knew that if she had any control over her emotions, she would obey. But I also knew that it would be next to impossible, and I wouldn’t be able to blame her one bit.

  The doors opened to the ballroom and six men marched out single file. They were each blindfolded with a black scarf and were led to a circular table in the middle of the room.

  Hearing Makayla’s gasp at the same time I saw Rhett, made the situation even more devastating. The woman I cared about was no doubt shattering into a million pieces next to me as I watched my best friend walk toward what could ultimately be his death. The only good thing at the moment was that Rhett was blindfolded and wouldn’t be able to see his daughter sitting naked on the bench with a dildo up her ass. I assumed he had no idea she was in the room, and at least me knowing this gave me some comfort. No father… nor man… should have to witness his daughter or any woman go through what the victims lined up next me just had to do.

  As the blindfolded men were guided to their seats, I looked down at Makayla who sat with her eyes wide, her lip trembling, and complete panic washed over her face.

  I anticipated that any moment, Makayla would shoot up off the bench and charge toward the table. Hell, it was taking everything I had not to do it myself. But we were both wise enough to know we couldn’t stop the fates. We couldn’t stop the brotherhood. Even if we tried, we would fail.

  The master of ceremonies began to chant, “Domine, Redémptor noster, qui teipsum morti tradidisti, ut omnes homines salvi fíerent et ad vitam possent de morte transire, clementissimam pietatem tuam humílter deprecamur, ut digneris omnes servos tuos intueri lugentes et pro amisso propinquo suo suppliciter exorantes. Illi omnia peccata dimitte, Domine, qui solus es sanctus et summe misericors, qui per mortem tuam portas vitae tuis fidelis reserasti. Ne fratrem nostrum a te separari, Rex aterne, permittas, sed virtute gloriae tuae locum ei lucis, beatudinis et pacis largire. Qui vivis et regnas in saecula saeculorum.”

  Six men holding canes rapped them loudly on the ground.

  The antique revolver was placed in the middle of the table, and I heard Makayla gasp again. I looked down to see tears streaming down her face, and yet she still remained in place, not drawing attention to herself. I couldn’t have her watch this. I couldn’t just stand there and watch it myself. Something had to be done. Someone had to stop this. Enough was enough, and if it meant me dying to try then I would.

  I took a step forward and instantly felt Makayla’s hand on my thigh. “No,” she whispered. “Don’t get yourself killed too. I couldn’t live with that.” Her voice was so low that fortunately with all the Latin chanting, she couldn’t be heard.

  “Let us begin,” the master of ceremonies said.

  I had to do something. Anything. I couldn’t allow this to happen. Someone was going to die. Yes, maybe it wouldn’t be Rhett… but what if it was? What if Makayla had to sit here and watch her father pull the trigger and die? Would she ever recover? Would I ever recover? Would I be able to live with myself knowing I just stood with all the others and watched my best friend test the fates and see if the bullet in that gun tonight was meant for him?

  No. No.

  I couldn’t.

  I wouldn’t.

  “Stop!” I called out, having all eyes turn to me. I stepped forward and away from Makayla in hopes that no attention would be brought her way. “I would like to sacrifice myself for Rhett Knox. My name is Alec Sheldon, life member of The Iron Colt Brotherhood, and I would like to cast my name for t
he game tonight. I would like to take Rhett Knox’s seat at the table.”

  I had seen a sacrifice like this be done when I was much younger. A grandfather stepped in for his grandson to save a man who he felt still had his whole life ahead of him. The grandfather had felt he had lived his life, and he wouldn’t allow his grandson to die before him. The act of bravery did not end with a happily ever after, however, because it was the grandfather who ended up putting a bullet through his head instead.

  I didn’t need to look back to know that out of all the gasps and murmurs flooding the room, that Makayla’s was one of them. But I wasn’t going to turn and see for myself. I didn’t want to face her. I didn’t want to see those eyes that melted every fiber in my body, and I didn’t want to see her pain. I didn’t want to give myself any reason to turn back and try to run out of this room like a coward.

  I just had to tell myself that I was a lucky man. I had always been a lucky man. Hopefully luck would be on my side tonight. And at the very least—even if I died—I wouldn’t have to watch Makayla’s heart be ripped out of her chest if her father was the unlucky bastard who would die tonight.

  The master of ceremony looked around at who I assumed were the governing council and when each man nodded in approval, he walked over to where Rhett sat and removed his blindfold.

  Rhett blinked away the harsh lights and settled his eyes on me, clearly confused as to what was going on. I walked over to the table before I lost my nerve, and to hopefully get to him before he saw Makayla so I could help diffuse the situation.