by Kitty Thomas
There’s a light tinkling metallic sound on the floor under the food slot, and I see that a key has been dropped onto the ground.
“Pretty Toy,” our captor says, “chain him up.”
I look at Seven, my eyes wide. Somehow I'd thought he would have to feed us and give Seven the drugs before he could come in here. Somehow I'd been living in the false security that I was safe at all other times inside this cell. He can't come in here otherwise without being overpowered unless he brings a weapon, and I know Seven would rush him, even if he pointed a gun.
This option hadn't occurred to me.
There’s a loud sigh over the speaker as I remain frozen, staring at that key.
“No more food comes through the slot until you chain him up. You already know I can wait you out, so I suggest the two of you cooperate. There's no point starving yourself and suffering more. Don't you agree?”
The look in Seven's eyes is stark, not because he's about to allow himself to be chained up, but because it leaves me vulnerable and because it was his need to fuck me without orders to do so that unlocked the next level.
I struggle to stand and cross the floor to the food slot. I stare at the shiny silver key for several minutes as though trying to teleport it out of this house so we'll be safe. But the key stubbornly refuses to disappear under the urgency of my thoughts.
Finally, I pick it up and cross the room to Seven.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers.
“You couldn't have known.”
“I should have.”
My hands are shaking too hard to unlock the shackles on the wall, so Seven takes the key from me and unlocks them. He gives it back before locking the first shackle on himself. He holds out his other wrist. I'm crying now.
I shake my head. “I can't.” I turn up toward the camera. “Are you going to hurt him?”
“Of course not,” the voice says. “He didn't break any rules.”
“A-are you going to hurt me?”
“Address me properly,” he says. I know he heard everything in the bathroom. Of course he must be angry that I would so easily and without prompting call Seven Master, but refuse the title to him. It wasn't intentional. I would never intentionally piss this guy off. I'm just too scared to think.
“I'm sorry, Master.”
But he doesn't answer my question. He only says, “Obey, Pretty Toy.”
I look to Seven as if he can offer me some guidance. There are no choices here. If I don't chain him up, we'll just go for days without food until I finally give in, and then I'll be half starved on top of whatever is about to happen here. But if I do lock the other chain around Seven's wrist... that door is going to open.
I can't cope with the idea of that door opening and that swirling mass of darkness coming into this cell with us.
I pace back and forth, my hands shaking so violently I drop the key.
“You're only making this harder on yourself,” our captor says. His voice is so calm and reasonable I want to scream.
“Look at me,” Seven says, careful not to use my name, careful not to break the rules.
I look into his eyes. I'm struggling to calm my crying, struggling to breathe.
“It's okay,” Seven says.
It's not okay, and we both know it. But I have no real choice. I take a deep shuddering breath and lock the second shackle around his wrist. That click is the loudest sound I've ever heard.
The chains are long enough that he's still able to pull me into his arms. He holds me, cradling my head against his chest like he did that first day in the shower. His other hand strokes my back.
“Shhhh,” he soothes. But I can't stop crying.
I flinch when I hear the metal door slide open and the sound of our captor walking into the room. I squeeze my eyes shut and press harder against Seven's chest.
“Come to me, Pretty Toy.”
I hold on to Seven harder. I can't go to that monster.
“Don't hurt her,” Seven warns.
“Or what? You'll do something heroic? Kate, what did I say about names in here? I distinctly heard you say his name in the bathroom. If you're smart, you will step out of his arms and beg me for mercy.”
Seven's grip on me tightens like he's just made up his mind to never let me go, to never let our captor have me. I wish it were that simple, but I know it's not.
Our captor comes closer, standing on the side my face is turned toward.
“Open your eyes, sweet whore.”
I bite back my sobs and open my eyes to see that cold gray gaze sliding into me. Something dark inside me awakens, and I feel the throbbing start between my legs. I try to make it stop, but it won't, even as I'm so fucking scared of him.
My gaze drops to the cane in his hand.
“Master, please, please...”
But he's not concerned with me right now. He's turned his attention to Seven. He props the cane against the wall and pulls a syringe out of his pocket. He removes the protective cap from the needle and pushes the air out, tapping the side of the needle.
“You can release her to me, or I can inject you with a sedative and take her. She'll be punished worse if I have to do that.”
I feel Seven's arms slacken around me in defeat.
“Good. Now, Kate, come, throw yourself on my mercy.”
I know what he wants from me. There is this almost psychic link that formed between us that day in the dungeon. I've had to start trying to think like him to survive this total mind fuck he's got me under. I pull myself from the warm, safe circle of Seven's arms, turn away from him, and kneel in front of our captor. I think of him as our captor, but the thought that really keeps coming to the front of my mind is my master.
I've been trying so hard for days to not think that phrase, to not let it burrow inside my soul and set up camp there. But it's useless. This man owns me, and both Seven and I know it. He may also own Seven in a sense, but he has this twisted desire to bring my would-be protector over to his side of the good and evil divide, leaving me alone, helpless, and at the mercy of both of them.
I want to convince myself that this isn't possible, but look at how he's already conditioned me. And I know how much Seven wants me and how the word Master affects him. It's only a matter of time before my one safe haven is gone.
I let the tears fall because there’s no point in being brave. I don't think bravery wins me points with this man. He wants to watch me break and crumble at his feet. And so I do. I give him what he wants. I let him see this absolute vulnerability and how broken I am. I think that if I do this, somehow I can hold onto a small piece of myself and hide it and keep it safe within me.
“Master, please. I beg you. Forgive me. I'm sorry I disobeyed. Please... spare me.”
He chuckles. “Oh, yes, my sweet whore. You know exactly the way I like it.”
He derives a real pleasure from these words I speak, these tears I cry, my total despair kneeling at his feet. He seems to get the kind of satisfaction from this that most men get from a blow job.
I flinch when he starts to stroke my hair.
He reaches down, takes my hands in his, and pulls me to stand. Then he spins me around so that my back is pressed against his front, so that I'm exposed, facing Seven. He holds my throat in a possessive grip with one hand as the other moves slowly over my body—as though he's displaying a pretty object he intends to sell for the right price.
“Look at her,” he says to Seven. “She’s so fucking perfect. Already she's so perfect. You will soon come to appreciate all the work I'm doing. Watch her.” Then he whispers in my ear. “Look at him. Do you see the lust? He's not your hero. Remember that, Pretty Toy. Remember that when he goes dark. Because he will.”
There’s anger at our captor in Seven's eyes, but beneath that I do see it. I see the lust. I see the animal way he wants me. One side of him wants to break free of these chains and protect me—and he does make a valiant effort as he pulls on them with all the strength he has. But the shadow inside
him wants to feed.
“Now, I need you to be a very good girl for me and go stand next to your chains facing the wall. It's time for your punishment.”
“Please,” I whimper. I'm falling apart in his arms. I can barely hold myself up as the terror of that cane grips me.
“Shhhh,” he says, “I'm very pleased with your begging.” He cups his hand against my mound, pulling me back against him. I feel his hard length pressing into my bare skin through his pants. “You've earned some mercy. Now go, before you lose it again.”
He releases me, and I stumble a few steps forward. Seven reaches out and catches me. His thumb strokes over my arm—a barely perceptible gesture of comfort. I look away from his gaze, right myself, and go to the other end of the cell, turning to face the wall.
When our captor comes to me, he's collected the cane and the silver key. I think I may hyperventilate as he unlocks the shackles and locks my wrists into them. These are smaller than Seven's for much smaller wrists—like mine.
“Press your hands flat against the wall, up near your face to support yourself,” he growls in my ear. “And do not move them. You're getting five.”
I whimper as he slowly and gently drags the tip of the cane over my back. I find myself arching toward these soothing pleasurable sensations, but then he pulls away.
The pain from the first strike across my ass makes all of my nerve endings cringe, trying desperately to escape his reach. The instrument he just used to give me comfort has transformed back to its true form—a thing to be feared. My scream bounces off the walls of the cell. There’s no way I can handle four more of these.
“M-master, please...”
“Ooops. I promised you some mercy. I forgot. It's so easy to forget rules. I'm sure you can relate.” His voice drips with acid.
“I'm sorry! I swear I'll never speak his name again.” It pains me to say this because I really like the sound of Seven's name on my lips. When I forget it's a number, the simple sound of it is comforting and sensual, like a far more sophisticated and worldly Kevin.
“Good girl,” my master says.
The next four strikes are tolerable but still leave their searing impression into my flesh. Tears slide down my cheeks in response to each harsh kiss of the cane. My body trembles, but I can handle it. It doesn't feel like the world is on fire. It doesn't feel like I am on fire.
This time he keeps his word and stops after the fifth strike. He leans the cane against the wall and begins to carefully rub the welts he left. Then he's kneeling behind me, his tongue trailing over them, causing me to shudder against his warm questing mouth. He presses a kiss against my skin and rises.
“You will be a good girl from now on, won't you?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good.” He presses his hand between my legs and chuckles. “I knew you would be wet for me after your punishment.”
He strokes between my legs for a moment. I try not to grind against his hand, but I fail. He stops, only needing to make the point that my body belongs to him whether or not my mind has fully caught up yet.
He unlocks the shackles, and I slide bonelessly to the floor, leaning against his leg for support. But he’s far from done with me. I feel the energy in him change, and I brace myself for whatever is coming next.
I chance a glance at Seven. He looks broken, like he was the one who just got caned.
“Let's play a different game,” he says. “Today it's lady's choice. I can fuck you while Seven watches, or I can give him a punishment to spare you this indignity.”
“I'll take the punishment,” Seven says without hesitation even though he just truly healed from the last one.
“Are you a lady? I wasn't asking you. That's not how this game works. She gets to choose.”
I bite my lip, willing myself not to cry anymore. I hate how much I cry now, how weak and fragile I've become in so short a time. He steps away from me, and I manage to catch myself, my hands bracing against the floor.
I look up and his cold gray gaze settles on me. He knows what I'll choose. I can't let him beat Seven. I can't choose for him to beat Seven. He already took a punishment to spare me.
“I'll take the punishment,” Seven says, more insistent, this time to me. “It's okay. I can't watch him force himself on you.”
Our captor laughs at this. “Oh, believe me, it won't be forced. Our Kate has a secret. She wants me. And she hates herself for it. But she does want me. We have a connection. I felt it. I felt the way she surrendered in the dungeon and gave herself over to me.”
“She's terrified of you!”
“Yes. But her desire runs far deeper than her fear. And she's so grateful for the way I awakened her to a new level of pleasure she didn't even know she could feel.” He turns to me then. “Tell me, Kate, and be honest, you know how I hate lies. You've thought about what it would be like when I fucked you. You've gotten aroused by it. Haven't you?”
I can't stand to say these words out loud, but I’m sure he will punish me again much worse if I lie. “Y-yes, Master.”
“So, see, Seven... it actually won't be some big horror for her to let me inside her pretty pussy. What bothers her is that you will watch and maybe judge her just a little for what a dirty whore she is. And you will watch. I would hate for her to have to degrade herself like this only for you to cheat on our game. Then I'll have to fuck her and punish you.”
“Listen to me, you don't have to do this. I’ll take the punishment,” Seven says, his hazel gaze capturing mine before I look away again.
I notice he's not saying my name. He knows what will happen if he does.
Our captor notices it, too. “Oh yes,” he says. “I forgot. You don't have anything to call her. Hmmm. If I'm going to share ownership, you need a pet name for her. How do you feel about Slut?”
Seven practically roars. He's so angry that for a moment I'm almost more afraid of him than our captor. Despite his evil, our captor remains calm, calculated. He doesn't do anything without thinking five moves ahead. But Seven is pure, raw emotion. Pure anger. He jerks on the chains so hard a part of me thinks he actually can pull them out of the wall and somehow save me... save us.
But the chains are solid, bolted into the concrete, too strong for even the greatest anger and protective instinct to break.
“Okay. No Slut,” our captor says. “You could have just vetoed the choice. For fuck's sake. You are such a drama queen.” He paces like he's really thinking this through. “So something cute then? Something sweet? How about Kitten?”
Seven catches my gaze, and there’s a question there. I nod. I like Kitten. And I would especially like it coming out of Seven's mouth, which makes it seem impossible that our captor will actually allow us this small kindness.
“Excellent. Kitten it is, then. See how easy that was? Not everything has to be a fight, Seven. Not every discussion is a dragon for you to slay. We can come to terms you and I. We can share her. We already know how much you enjoy her. So let's enjoy her together.”
Seven ignores the taunt and turns back to me. “Kitten, let me take the punishment. You have a choice. Use it.”
I shake my head. “I can't, Master.”
He flinches almost imperceptibly when I say this, but I'm afraid if I don't use the title, more punishment will come to me.
“Good girl,” our captor says softly, reaching down to pet my hair. “You're learning.”
I lean into his touch without thought.
Every word out of his mouth is true. I don't emotionally want him, but my body craves him. A twisted part of me does want to know what it feels like to have him moving inside of me. How will he fuck me? Will he be rough like Seven was in the shower? Or will he maintain this calculated calm?
And I do hate myself for this. He is evil. He can do any terrible thing he wants to either of us. This man quite literally has no soul. No conscience. There’s nothing behind his eyes beyond the simple amusement of his game and we, his pawns. We are the pieces he moves aroun
d his game board with impunity.
I can only hope he truly doesn't get bored and that his creativity doesn't turn to brutal torture. It feels like he's inside my head. I'm sure he studies and analyzes me with the help of his cameras. Always. He studies Seven, too.
He knows exactly which button to push with me and exactly when and how to push it. This is the most terrifying thing about him—how smart he is. I've never known somebody this smart. If he had been violent from the start with me, I might have quickly rushed to obey him, but it would have been only out of fear.
And I do fear him, more than anything I've ever feared. But he’s right; the desire is louder. And it wouldn't be there if he hadn't been so patient, so gentle with me so far. Yes, he's punished me, and it hurt, but he hasn't done any of the extremely violent things he could have so easily done. And he didn't rape me. And it isn't because he isn't capable of these things. I saw that clearly enough on Seven's back.
All of this combines with his physical beauty to create this gratefulness and need—this sick part of me that finds myself wanting to please him to pay him back for these small kindnesses.
But I don't kid myself about this. He wants to break me. He is breaking me. But he wants to do it with pleasure. That's the cruelest way to do it. I know this, but still I want him. And though I feel a deep shame at the idea of Seven watching me fall... the throbbing wetness, this continuing and growing ache between my legs tells me, part of me wants him to watch.
“Make your choice, Kate. Let me fuck you while Seven watches, or let our noble hero take another punishment for you.”
“Kitten...” Seven says. It comes out a low rumbling growl.
Our captor is right. There’s this bizarre connection between us. I know what I'll choose, and I know exactly how he wants me to phrase it. I know what will please him the most to hear.
So I look up at him, still kneeling on the floor. My lip trembles as I say, “Please, Master, fuck me.”
“Good girl,” he says, a slow, amused smile spreading across his face.
I barter with myself in this moment. I promise myself I will only give my softer feelings to Seven. I will only love Seven, because I know I am beginning to love him. Who wouldn't? He's perfect in every way. I'm safe with him.
