Mara was led to the makeup chair where one of the men, after placing a protective plastic cape around her, proceeded to apply foundation, rouge, lipstick and eye makeup. He was skillful, somehow creating a final product that looked natural—adding a dewy glow to Mara’s skin without making it appear overly made up. Her eyes looked huge, her lips plump and inviting. If she weren’t aware she was shortly to be offered as a sex object for defilement by a stranger, she would almost have been pleased.
The room stilled suddenly, the quiet chatter that had been going on around her ceasing. Alex had entered the room. Her heart lurched as he approached her chair. He was holding something in his hands. “I have something for you, Mara.” He held up a necklace, identical to the one Esmé, Raeanne and Joanie wore. She held her breath as he brought the gold chain around her neck, the single teardrop gem a deep ruby red. His eyes met hers in the mirror. “You are now officially a ruby—molded to serve and to suffer.”
He brought his hand around so it rested on her throat. Placing his thumb and forefinger below her jaw, he squeezed just hard enough to remind her of his power and control. In spite of herself, a shudder moved through her frame, part fear, but also, though she despised herself for it, part desire.
After a moment, he dropped his hand and stepped back. His green eyes boring into hers, he said softly, “You belong to me now. Make me proud today.”
Chapter 6
“Ha, now I’ve got you, wench! You will never escape Blackbeard’s wrath,” Gordon blustered in a poor approximation of a British accent. Apparently taking his cue from the name of the island, the man wore a white, full-sleeved, silk pirate’s shirt opened at the neck to reveal his very hairy chest, black leather pants and matching boots, a red bandana tied rakishly over his bald head. “I won you fair and square along with the gold and other booty, and now I’ll have my way with you.”
Mara half expected him to add, “har, har, har.” The man would have been comical, if he weren’t brandishing what appeared to be a real sword as he pranced around her in his pirate getup.
As odd as Gordon was, Mara was glad he had chosen her during the presentation. Another guest, introduced as Quentin, had stared hard at Mara with cold, reptilian eyes, making the hair on the back of her neck rise. Dawn had given Quentin first choice, and Mara had stiffened with dread as he’d approached the sofa on which she’d been directed to sit. To her relief, though she felt sorry for Raeanne, Quentin had veered away from Mara at the last second, choosing her instead.
It was clear from Gordon’s behavior that he wanted to play-act. Mara stole a glance at the mirrored wall at the end of the room, reasonably sure she’d been placed in the suite that abutted the observation room, certain she was being watched by Alex on her first day out. Hoping she was doing the right thing, Mara tried to go along with Gordon’s game. “Oh, please, Blackbeard, sir, you’re so big and strong. I’m so afraid.” She raised her hands to her face, silently praying she had taken the right tack.
Gordon looked extremely pleased with her response, and Mara relaxed, just a little. “You’re a virgin, are ye?”
For a second Mara couldn’t think how to answer such a ridiculous question, given the circumstances, but she thrust herself back into the role play in time to reply, “Yes, oh yes, sir. Please be gentle with me.”
“Stand up, wench. I want to see what I’ve captured.” Gordon gestured with the point of his sword and Mara got hastily to her feet. Despite her flats, she was still several inches taller than he.
“Hands behind your head,” Gordon ordered. He touched the sharp point of the sword to her breastbone, causing Mara to take an involuntary step back.
“Stay still, wench. Don’t move a muscle, or I’ll have you tied to the mast and flogged.”
Mara did her best to obey as he drew the sword tip down her flimsy gown, ripping the fabric in the process and grazing, though not cutting, her skin. When he was done, the gown hung open and loose on her otherwise naked body.
The faux pirate stared at her with hungry eyes, the tip of his tongue appearing between his lips. Averting her gaze, Mara saw the bulge in his leather pants.
“Aha, the virgin likes what she sees, eh?” Gordon chuckled, his free hand dropping to cup his crotch. “I’ll deflower you soon enough, fear not, wench. But first, a little fun.”
To Mara’s relief he sheathed the sword. He unbuckled the scabbard belt from his waist and set it down on the bureau. Returning to where she stood, he tugged at the leather ties that held his pants closed. Reaching in, he pulled out his cock, which, to Mara’s surprise given the man’s small stature, was huge.
With a delighted laugh, Gordon crowed, “Blackbeard’s cock is second to none, wench.” He pointed to the floor. “Discard your tattered gown, take off the sandals, kneel down and open that pretty little mouth.”
Mara let the silky garment fall from her shoulders and stepped out of her sandals. She dropped to her knees, trying to do it gracefully the way Dawn had taught her. Though she didn’t want to suck this man’s huge cock, it could have been much worse. He’d put away the sword, thank goodness, and there was no bullwhip in sight.
“Hands behind your back.” The man held a small coil of rope. He walked around behind her and crouched down. He gripped her wrists together and wrapped the thin, strong rope around and around until she was tightly bound. He reappeared in front of her, his huge cock level with her face. She could smell his sweat and musk and had to resist the impulse to wrinkle her nose and turn away. Instead, she closed her eyes and imagined the ocean, and above it the clear, boundless blue sky.
The head of his cock pushed between her lips. At the same time, Gordon grabbed a handful of her hair, gripping it hard, so hard Mara’s eyes flew open, her attempt at meditation aborted by the sudden pain.
Her relief of a moment before evaporated, replaced by alarm as the man shoved his huge shaft roughly in her mouth. “I feel any teeth and I’ll make you walk the plank, wench.” Her hair still tangled in his tight grip, he thrust in deeper, pushing his cock down Mara’s throat so she couldn’t breathe.
He remained that way for what seemed nearly a minute until Mara, desperate to draw a breath, began to struggle against him, her eyes beseeching him to let her go. He looked down at her and laughed, the sound cruel and low in his throat. “Stop that wriggling, wench. We’re just getting started.”
The pressure was building behind her face, her lungs burning. Despite his admonition, Mara struggled again, trying desperately to pull back, but he held her fast, his grip tightening until she thought he was going to pull her hair out by the roots. She began to feel lightheaded and her eyes rolled back.
Then—all at once—he let go of her hair and withdrew his cock. Mara, mouth still opened wide, sucked in a huge, grateful breath. With a laugh, Gordon grabbed her head again and shoved his cock once more down her throat. This time he began to thrust back and forth. Mara gagged repeatedly on his cock, gasping for breath each time he drew back. Over and over, he thrust deep, his cock blocking her air passage until she thought her lungs would burst, pulling back just before she passed out. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, sweat dampening her skin, her heart hammering in her chest, her jaws aching. How much longer could she bear this?
Finally Gordon seemed to tire of the game. Though he hadn’t yet climaxed, he reached down and hoisted Mara to her feet in a surprisingly strong grip. He dragged her to the bed and pushed her facedown onto the mattress. Her hands were numb in the too-tight rope, her arm muscles throbbing with fatigue from the forced position held too long.
To her great relief, Gordon began to pluck at the knots and unwind the rope from her wrists. She lay inert as the blood flowed back into her arms and hands. The cool sheets felt good against her cheek.
Gordon spoke from behind her. “You were a bad girl, resisting Blackbeard as you did. You will have to be punished. I should make you walk the plank, or at the very least give you to the swabbies, but since you’re just a frightened virgin, I’l
l take pity. Twenty strokes should suffice to teach you a lesson. Get on your hands and knees, ass offered to the cane. Make sure you stay in position or we’ll have to start over.”
Biting back a sigh of exhaustion, her arms and hands tingling painfully to life, Mara did as he ordered, praying he knew what he was doing and wouldn’t cut the skin. She heard the whippy sound a fraction of a second before the cane flicked painfully across her ass. “Ow!” she cried. After a week of Alex’s intensive training, however, she managed to keep her position.
“One,” Gordon announced. The cane struck once more. “Two.” On and on it went until Mara’s ass and the back of her thighs were painted in fiery lines of stinging pain. Through it all she somehow managed to stay in position, her face buried against the sheets, her poor, stinging ass offered up for the sadist’s cane.
When he reached twenty, she sagged with relief, though she didn’t dare to move. The mattress heaved as the man settled on the bed beside her. He pulled her down to her side and spooned her body with his, his hands circling around her body to cup her breasts. His fully-erect cock pressed hard against her lower back.
“All is forgiven,” he crooned softly into her ear. “I’m impressed with how you took what was coming to you. Blackbeard will fuck you now, as a reward.” Mara tensed as Gordon shoved his cock between her ass cheeks. For a moment she was afraid he was going to use her ass. She stiffened with panic, certain she would never be able to take that monster dick in her tight passage. To her immense relief, he slid farther down until he found her pussy.
The bed was soft and comfortable, and he held her gently, moving slowly as he nudged against her entrance. After his earlier brutal treatment, she almost welcomed his tender touch.
She let her mind drift again, focusing once more on peaceful images of water and sky, willing her body to relax, to open and receive this man as if he were her lover. Once he was fully inside her, he began to move, his arms still around her. Though she took no pleasure from the man’s touch, at least he wasn’t hurting her, if she didn’t count the press and friction of his body against her welted ass and thighs.
Recalling Dawn’s “ecstasy training” Mara made simulated sounds of sexual pleasure, glad he couldn’t see her face. It wasn’t long before Gordon began to grunt as he heaved and jerked against her.
“Yeah, yeah, oh fuck, yeah!” the man cried, all trace of his faux British accent gone. He shuddered and then stilled, save for his labored breathing in her ear. His sweat slicked her back and stung the tender skin on her ass. She was longing to pull away from his embrace, but she forced herself to stay still. Finally he let her go and rolled onto his back.
“Come here, babe,” he said in a lazy, satisfied voice.
Mara shifted onto her back. Gordon reached for her and pulled her close, forcing her cheek to rest on his hairy chest as he brought his arm around her. They lay still for a while like that. I did it, Mara thought with some satisfaction. I made it through my first presentation.
The first of how many? How long would she be enslaved on this island, forced into sexual servitude, into a life of suffering, pain and terror? She’d gotten off easy with this man. There would be others who were worse, much worse. And what of Alex, Wallace, DJ and the doctor, all of whom had carte blanche to use, torture and rape her whenever they felt like it? How long before they tired of her—before she was used up, before she was sold?
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Shit! Mara hadn’t realized she’d made a sound, but she must have done something to give herself away. Aware Alex might still be watching from the observation room, she said, a little louder than she might otherwise have, “Nothing, Blackbeard, sir. Everything is fine.”
“Oh, you can call me Gordon, now that I got my rocks off.” He chuckled. “I know the pirate thing is goofy, but it’s what gets me going, what can I say?”
Mara said nothing to this. It didn’t feel “goofy” when he choked her on his cock while he pulled her hair, or when he caned her ass. But at least the ordeal appeared to be over.
“You girls are amazing, I have to give you that. I mean, you’re new, right? I’m your first?”
“Yes, sir.”
Again the satisfied chuckle. “So in a way, you were a virgin. Ha!”
Mara didn’t reply, glad once more he couldn’t see her face.
Gordon continued, “I don’t know where Wallace keeps coming up with you girls. He must pay you a fortune, is all I got to say. No, no”—he interrupted himself as if she’d been about to protest—“I’m sorry. That was uncool, talking about money. I get it. It ruins the fantasy, the allure of this place—beautiful, responsive girls who let you do anything you want, not because they want it, but because they’re sex slaves, captives who will be killed if they don’t submit.”
Mara lifted her head, not sure she’d heard the man correctly. Is this what he thought? That the truth was in fact a fantasy? Though he was a pervert and a clueless dick, he was also kind on some level—cradling her gently in his arms after the sex, talking to her as if she were a human being rather than just a piece of ass for him to use and discard.
Now that his fantasy had been fulfilled, had Gordon sloughed off the Blackbeard persona and all its associated cruelness like the silly costume he’d worn? Was he sincere or, like Alex, would he use the hand that tenderly soothed her one moment to strike her the next?
Did she dare?
Before she could stop herself, Mara lifted her head and moved close so her mouth was against Gordon’s ear. “It’s not a fantasy, Gordon. It’s the truth,” she whispered. “Don’t react, please. We’re being observed, but I have to tell you. I have to try. I was kidnapped and brought here against my will. They’ll kill us or sell us if we try to get away. Please, please help me. Please help me get out of here. Please help all of us. I’m begging you.”
Gordon pushed her gently away and hoisted himself on his elbows. He stared at Mara for a long, moment, his pale blue eyes boring into her face. Her heart was smashing in her chest. Would he believe her? He had to! She was panting, her entire body coiled with tension, adrenaline spurting through her system.
She waited, both terrified and hopeful.
After several long seconds, to her shocked horror, Gordon began to laugh, a big guffaw, his head thrown back. Mara’s blood froze in her veins. “That’s a good one,” he managed in a gasp, shaking his head. “Jesus H., I actually believed you for a second. You are good. You should consider a life on the stage, if you ever get sick of selling your pretty ass.”
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, still shaking his head. “Like that could actually happen—a bunch of sex slaves held against their wills right in the good ole U. S. of A.” He stood and walked to a chair near the bed, reaching for a white bathrobe that lay over the back. Wrapping the robe around his body, he continued, “Like Dan Wallace, one of the top businessmen in North Carolina, would possibly involve himself in something like that! But I have to admit, you had me going for a second there.” He chuckled again.
Mara closed her eyes, unable to move, unable to think, unable to react. She had whispered, but his loud voice would have carried into the hallway, even if the suite wasn’t bugged.
What had she done? Oh god, what had she done?
She lay stiff, not sure what to do, if she should try again, or make a joke of it, or what. Gordon had moved to the bar set up in a corner of a room. He put ice into a glass and poured from a bottle of liquor. He turned to face her and lifted the glass. “Cheers.” He drank it down, made a face and then said, “Good stuff. They know how to treat you in this place.” He lifted the glass once more in her direction. “Sorry, want some?”
Mara shook her head, her thoughts still churning. Maybe everything was okay. She would need to find another way off the island. These guests were too invested in the process to risk getting involved. What had possibly made her think otherwise? Maybe it was good the guy hadn’t believed her. Maybe she’d dodged her ow
n bullet.
Then, like a death knell, there came a soft but insistent knock on the bedroom door. Instinctively, Mara grabbed at the sheets that were tangled at the end of the bed and pulled them close around herself.
Gordon, tying the sash of his robe, looked toward the sound. “Yeah?” he called out.
“It’s Alex, Gordon,” came the voice through the door. “Sorry to disturb you. May I trouble you for a moment?”
“No trouble,” Gordon called out. Clearly unaware of the danger, he actually winked at Mara.
As he strode toward the door, Mara curled into a fetal ball on the bed. Maybe Alex hadn’t been watching through the two-way mirror. Maybe he hadn’t overheard them, or hadn’t understood what he’d heard. Maybe his knock was coincidental. Maybe he just wanted to see how things were going with the new girl.
And maybe the tooth fairy would swoop in behind him and sprinkle fairy dust in his eyes while Mara made her escape through the sliding glass doors.
Gordon pulled open the door and Alex stepped into the room. He glanced at Mara, though she could read nothing in his implacable expression. He faced Gordon. “Forgive my interruption. Mr. Wallace was just wondering if you’d care to join him and Gene Stamos for lunch this afternoon on his yacht. I wouldn’t have disturbed you, but I wanted to give you a chance to get ready, in case you were interested, since the boat will leave the dock in less than an hour.”
Gordon stared at Alex, his eyebrows lifting and mouth dropping open in a comical display of disbelief. “Gene Stamos?” he echoed incredulously. “The Gene Stamos of Stamos Enterprises? Are you shitting me? That guy is on Pirate Island? Dan Wallace wants me to join them for lunch? On his private yacht?”
Alex’s mouth lifted into a cold smile. “Certainly. You’re an esteemed guest and a good friend.” He flashed another glance in Mara’s direction. “That is, unless you’re still being entertained by our newest addition. Mara is quite the young actress, is she not?”
Dark Obsessions - Volume 2: Four Dark, Delicious Capture Fantasies Page 9
