by Emma Cole
I wake up to a quiet argument. Rex is furious with Apollo. I decide to stay quiet and listen, but I’m sure Braeden knows I’m awake.
“You let them get branded! Like cattle! What the fuck, Apollo?” Was he not upset about him and Emmett? Maybe they had been warned it was a possibility?
“I didn’t have much of a choice. Robert isn’t a normal father— or person for that matter. If he even had a thought I was betraying him, he would execute us all. I’m sorry, I did what I could to stop it. He even included Brent, and that was never supposed to happen either.”
“What about the drugs? Emmett and I discounted feeling off as an environmental effect. Of course, Lark is the only one that kept voicing her concerns that something was off, mumbling about that kidnapper’s syndrome. She’s better at fighting it, too, apparently.” At least Rex had noticed I'd been complaining.
“She does seem to have some natural resistance to it.” Dr. Martins’ voice interrupts the conversation— guess his has worn off too.
“Robert demands random blood and urine tests. If you don’t have any traces in your system, he will know something is up. He at least saw firsthand that Lark isn’t very affected by it. That could also be a bad thing as he could decide she needs something stronger.” Apollo's words leave a moment of tense silence.
“One thing that hasn’t been addressed is if she’s going to be punished.” I stiffen at Marcus' statement, and Braeden tightens his arms around me.
“Why would she be punished?” Braeden is pissed, and Marcus answers him.
“She fucked up the guards pretty good, and she did it all in front of Robert. He won’t let that slide without retribution.”
“That bastard assistant of his got his revenge already.” Braeden is adamant, but I don’t think it’s going to be enough. My fears are confirmed when Apollo confirms it.
“He’ll want a public punishment to demonstrate what happens to anyone who defies him. I’ll negotiate to be the one to decide the punishment, but I’ll tell you now— it will have to be something suitable and harsh enough to appease him. I should be able to get him to agree to nothing that will leave scars, so as not to drive the selling price down.” I hate being talked about like an animal at an auction. Marcus speaks up before Braeden can get anything coherent out of his mouth.
“I’ll be the one to administer it, so there won’t be a chance of one of his guards doing anymore damage.”
“Can we just leave it for later? Apollo, I’m sure you’ll do your best, and as we’re still stuck here, I don’t see any way of getting out of it. I just want to get clean and dressed and sleep.” Ending on a snap, I start to wash with pruned fingers, but Braeden takes over, and I see the other guys watching surreptitiously as they clean up themselves. The water is tinged with the gold dust by the time he's finished with me. Marcus helps Braeden get me out, and they get all of us dried off and dressed. Moving back into the bedroom, I see what I was too out of it to notice earlier. There is one huge bed in the room now. It looks like two king-sized mattresses have been hooked together. I turn to ask about it, but Marcus beats me to it.
“It’s safer to all sleep in one bed. It will be harder for someone to grab one of you without the others noticing. We used ‘training’ as an excuse, but the single beds could potentially let someone get grabbed, and you wouldn’t notice until it’s too late. There’s a panic button on the headboard that alerts both me and Apollo and another under the kitchen counter if someone tries to do anything without one of us here. We’ll also give you the code to the training room as it can double as a safe room unless someone has the override code. As far as I know only Apollo and Robert have those.” I see the upside of the bed, but the downside is I’m going to be sleeping with all these men, most of whom I don't want near me. Good thing I’m too hurt and exhausted to get too worked up about it.
Marcus and Braeden crawl up with me in between them on one side. Although I’m a little surprised that Marcus is staying, I don’t question it. We seem to have bonded some in the last couple hours or so. I’m not sure why I don’t find him so intimidating anymore, but I don’t. I cuddle my front into Braeden with my head on his chest and Marcus spoons up behind me with an arm slung over us both. I barely register the others getting into bed before I’m out.
Chapter Fourteen
A P.I.T.A. (pain in the ass)
I wake up to voices, again. I sit up gingerly due to the pain in my leg and crotch, trying to hear what’s going on. I notice I’m alone in the huge bed. Apollo is arguing with someone, then Marcus comes into the room.
“How long have I been asleep? Where is everyone else at?” Marcus helps me stand— I’m disoriented from sleep and need to pee, but otherwise feel much better.
“You’ve been out for sixteen hours.” I can’t believe I slept that long. I make it to the bathroom, and Marcus doesn’t move from the doorway when I try to close it. “I think you can piss in front of me after everything. I need to tell you what’s happening as soon as possible, before you leave this room. Apollo can only stall for so long.” My punishment. Should have known it would be sooner rather than later. I give up on the door and sit down to do my business, not looking at Marcus. I expect it to burn, but it isn't as bad as I'd thought it would be. I guess all the sleep let me heal up some. “The others will stay with the doctor in the training room, and it will just be me, you, and Apollo.”
“What’s my punishment?” I don’t really care. I actually feel slightly detached. I don’t want to be present in this nightmare anymore. Being in this suite and training room are bad enough, but dealing with the sick perverts that enjoy the pain and degradation of human beings disgusts me. Marcus must be able to tell I’m on the edge of checking out.
“Hey now, none of that. Stay with me here. We’ll get you out of here as soon as we can. If they aren’t all rounded up and brought down together, none of us will ever be safe.” I hadn’t thought of that aspect. I just wanted to know why no one had come to get us yet. “I’d rather not tell you. It’s not horrible, but I just want to keep you calm. And no worries on the drugs— there won’t be any lubricant. Clean up and put your hair in a bun on top of your head. I’ll leave a robe on the bed, and you won’t need anything else.” Of course, I’ll be naked, what’s new?
I nod my head, seeing no point in fighting it. “I’ll be right out.” I clean up and prepare as instructed. I’m nervous and want to know what’s going to happen, but at the same time I don’t want to know. All I can do is trust that Apollo managed to intervene on my behalf. I find it strange that I trust him enough to believe that neither he, nor Marcus, would deliberately hurt me— not if they could avoid it, anyway. I suppose it’s something to do with knowing what they’re trying to accomplish and the fact that they really haven’t hurt me, well, besides the whole drugging thing. Completely fucked up in their sexual activities, but I’m not sure how normal I would have been in the same environment all my life. I come out to find Apollo and Marcus waiting on me. Marcus indicates some slippers on the floor, and I slide them on. Apollo puts his arm around me and raises one hand to tip my face up to his using my chin.
“Marcus will be performing the punishment, and I will supervise. Be prepared for someone to request for you to be fucked afterwards. If that happens— I will do it. No one else will touch you. Before we leave, I want to change your bandage and check the mark for infection.”
Marcus peels the adhesive off, and I have to hold in a squeal. That shit hurts! After he gets it off, he spritzes it with some disinfectant and blots it. Applying a fresh layer of salve, he covers it with a new clean bandage. “It looks pretty good, actually. How is the pain level?”
“It’s really sore, but as long as I don’t touch or move it too much it’s tolerable.” Apollo nods, as if he expected as much, and opens the door. I follow him down the hallway while Marcus brings up the rear. I almost snicker at that thought. Bringing up the rear. That’s so appropriate here.
***
We g
et back to the same room with the dais, and there aren’t as many people as last time, but enough to make me even more nervous about what will be happening. The guard with the broken nose is there glaring at me, as well. Robert is waiting and makes his announcement as Apollo takes up position at the base of the dais and Marcus leads me up on it.
“My son has brought his training slave for her punishment. A pound of flesh is what I requested. Instead, I’ve agreed to give her a pound of flesh instead.”
I don’t understand what he’s talking about, but as I’m being lead towards a bench that is going to put my ass and pussy on display as soon as I bend over it, I’m slightly distracted. I cooperate with Marcus— disrobing— before leaning over it. He gets me into position and secures my hands at the small of my back. My feet and knees are placed in holds made for them, and I’m squatting like a frog tipped upside down, completely exposed. A strap comes over my back, threaded under my arms and holds me down to the bench. More come around to bind my legs into position.
Robert continues after I’m secured, and the close up monitors come on. One is directly in my line of sight. I don’t doubt was done on purpose. “A pound of ginger flesh, a figging she won’t soon forget.” What the fuck is figging, and what are they doing with ginger? I watch as Marcus pulls out a monster ginger root that resembles a hand. As I’m wondering what he thinks he’s going to do with that I see him take a knife and cut out a finger-like stem through the meaty part of the root. It's at least as long as his hand and several fingers worth in diameter if not a little more.
I didn't even know ginger looked like that. Marcus begins peeling it and every so often dipping it in a bowl of ice water. Soon, he has a phallus shape that hasn’t lost any of its size with a notch about a half inch from the base like the dildo plugs. I have a feeling I know where that’s going. And Marcus said no lube. He places it in the bowl of water with the ice in it and moves on to another piece. This one he makes into two small flat discs, and after he rinses them, he gets behind me. Using a clamp with flat plates and a screw-type tightener, he pulls my clit down, stretching it until it burns, and I make a small noise of complaint. He tightens the clamp down, and before it’s as tight as it goes, he slides those wet pieces of ginger on either side and another I didn’t notice before, almost a tiny ball up, under the hood of my clit. He tightens it all down until it’s secure and leaves it to hang. Two clips from it attach to my outer pussy lips to help keep it in place.
I don’t notice anything right away, but Marcus grabbing a flexible paddle looking thing gets my attention quick. The first blow gets a surprised squeal from me. It stings and makes a loud cracking noise, but it doesn’t hurt too bad. He continues on, alternating from cheek to cheek and each slap gets progressively more painful. On top of that I’m feeling a burning on my clit and can’t wiggle away from it. I’m bracing for another blow when the slap comes between my legs, directly against the opening of my cunt. I see Marcus lick the paddle and realize I’m wet and turned on, and I’m silently crying. I don't know if it's a kink I never knew about, the ginger, or both, but this is not the place I should be finding out. My ass is on fire, and the fact that I’m wet seems to spur him on.
I can see out of my peripheral vision the rapt gazes of the audience, and I want to die of shame that they can see me in such a state. I don’t actually care about Apollo and Marcus. As I discovered earlier, I’m comfortable enough with them now. Marcus comes up and holds my hole wide, glistening pink in the light above the clamped and obscenely stretched flesh, as he slides two fingers in, twisting them around to gather my juices. He walks to Apollo to offers them up. Apollo accepts and leans in, sucking the fingers clean, causing me to break out in a full body flush that they'd do something so vulgar.
At least the audience can’t take their eyes off the show, and it’s giving me a reprieve from feeling their attention. Marcus comes back and pulls the ginger rod from the bowl and my eyes widen when I see him headed for my ass instead of my pussy.
He quietly addresses me. “I can’t use lube, or it will block the ginger from working.” I'm not sure if it's true or not, but that's all the warning I receive before he places the freezing tip to my hole and starts to slide it up.
My clit is burning, and I dread what’s about to happen in my ass. I screech at the forced intrusion, unable to hold it back. The water isn't doing anything to help it move inward, and my body strains to get away against the straps. He works it in, rocking and pushing until he gets it fully seated, and the ridge holds it in place. I don’t notice anything at first, and Marcus resumes his paddling to my sobs. He's aiming at the backs of my thighs, avoiding my wound and my buttocks. I’m still twitching with the pain when the ginger starts to work.
As soon as he notices I’m wiggling more fervently, he begins massaging my butt, and I try to move in vain. Marcus pushes my cheeks together, crushing them around the root, and I scream at the intensity of the sensation, like my insides are on fire. He spreads them, and it’s a small, short-lived relief until he presses them together again, pulling another yell from me. I don't know how long he alternates this way, but I’m crying loudly now, the haze of pain making everything unclear. And the audience, the sick fucks, are eating it up.
Finally, Marcus works the root out, and I hope it will stop burning soon. Before I can recover, I feel a wet finger going in my ass just barely inside, and I see Apollo with his condom covered dick out— his dry dick. Marcus smears a very small amount of lube on him, and I know it’s not enough to take him in my sore ass comfortably. I’m trembling in dread and anticipation and breaking out in a nervous sweat on top of the burning I still have going on. I’m a mess.
Watching the monitor with trepidation, I can see the horrid clamp on my lips and clit that is still twitching with the burning sensation from the ginger. Meanwhile, the tip of Apollo’s dick gets closer to my puckered hole. Marcus spreads my cheeks wide and puts his thumbs on either side of my rear opening— pulling outward and exposing the pink flesh inside— allowing Apollo to begin breaching me. He continues to push until he’s made it past that tight ring and slides up into my rectum. The friction from the lack of lube makes me scream again, not to mention this being the first time I've ever been fucked in the ass. If I could move, I would hit him.
“Get off me! Fucker, get off!” I start spewing obscenities at him, and Robert gestures to one of his thugs. At the same time, Marcus comes up and tries to gag me with a rubber ball on a strap, but I thrash my head, avoiding him. Behind me, Apollo withdraws and then slams into me, making me stiffen and shriek, giving Marcus the opportunity to gag me. By the time I’ve recovered enough to stop crying, Marcus has the strap firmly secured. Apollo begins moving in and out rapidly, and I continue to scream behind the gag. Snot and tears are everywhere, and Marcus is fiddling with the clamps. As they begin to release and the blood rushes in, I briefly black out from the pain. When the darkness recedes, Apollo buries himself deep and pulses his release into my ass. Pulling out, the condom he wore is tinged with blood, and I know I’m not going to be sitting down comfortably any time soon. My hole is slow to close, and before it closes completely, Marcus rubs something that burns at first then numbs my opening before manipulating it shut. All the while, my face burns in embarrassment and rage.
The torso and leg straps are removed, but I can’t stand once Marcus gets me upright— my legs are asleep. He wraps me in my robe and swings me up in his arms, turning to Apollo, who has at least tucked his dick back in his slacks, for permission leave. I’m still gagged with my hands bound behind me.
“Take her and clean her up. I’ll be along shortly to discuss resuming training with Dr. Martins.” Apollo moves to his father and begins speaking with him as Marcus carries me from the room. I glare at him, and his silver gaze meets my artic one.
“I’ll remove them after you’re out of danger.” No apology, no sympathy, nothing. He obviously knows I’m going to attempt some damage as soon as I can. Once we get to the suite, he tak
es me straight to the bath and quickly removes my gag, seeming surprised as well as wary that I don’t immediately start yelling at him. "Braeden and the others are in the training room with Brent, Apollo will let them know you're back," he explains as he unties my hands.
As I shake and rub them together the best I can, trying to get the feeling back into them, I'm glad Brade is busy. Besides being me embarrassed, I don't think his reaction would be a good thing.
Chapter Fifteen
R & R - Retribution and Reprieve
As soon as I can, I turn the shower on scalding, climb in on still tingling legs, and sit in the built-in seat as gingerly as possible. I detach one of the heads and let the water run over my belly, vagina, and across my ass. Marcus knocks, then opens the door, holding a glass of water and two red ibuprofen tablets. He takes in the scene as I reach, first for the pills, then the water. Eventually, he seems to get up the courage to speak.
“I’m sorry, Lark. It had to be believable, and if I hadn’t gagged you, Robert would have sent one of his men to join in to silence you. Apollo will be hating himself for hurting you, but it got the punishment over with quickly in a manner that kept in line with what his father would expect." I nod and look away, ignoring him, and he eventually closes the door and leaves.
After a while I hear noises in the bathroom, but can’t muster the will to rouse myself to see who it is. Apollo appears, naked, in the shower with Marcus. He goes to pick me up, and I swing my fist and nail him straight in the balls, before grabbing what I can between his legs, giving it a twist. He grabs himself and groans, hunched over.
“Fuck, Nightingale, I think you popped one," he hisses, checking out his parts. "Marcus said you weren’t talking, should have known you were waiting on me.” He's eventually able to straighten up and reaches for me again, warily this time. I let him, although I’m not sure I want him touching me. He settles back down with me in his lap and starts rubbing my hip. It feels good, so I don’t complain. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I panicked when you started yelling and needed a distraction. It could have been so much worse than that. Will you let us make it up to you?” I’m not positive what they mean by make it up to me, but I can guess. I’ll go along until I decide if I like it or not.
