She opened her eyes and faced her tormentor. “Yes, please, sir. Let’s try it again.”
Anders leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “You please me, Julianna. I knew you were teachable. It will be a privilege to harness your passion. I almost wish I could—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “Never mind.”
He lowered his head, taking her nipple between his lips and pulling it erect. He did the same with the other before moving down her body, licking his way toward her sex. She squirmed, very uncomfortable with the idea of such intimate contact, not that she had a choice in the matter.
When his tongue touched her pussy, she jumped slightly. He placed a hand on either thigh, holding her still as he began to lick with long, gentle strokes of his tongue. She couldn’t deny that his touch soothed the sting still lingering from the cane. After a while it did more than soothe. She sighed, the pleasure rising in her loins, along with the fear that he would somehow turn this into another “teaching moment” that ended with her crying in pain.
It felt good. He pulled at her thighs, causing her labia to spread wider as he flicked at her sensitive clit with his tongue. She groaned, aware she was going to climax, frightened of what would happen next. “Please, sir,” she gasped. “Can I come?”
He lifted his head long enough to say, “Not yet. Hold on for me a little longer.”
Julianna squeezed her eyes shut and tried to shift beneath his touch to ease the direct attention to her throbbing clit. She thought about Stephen, letting her rage seethe and bubble. It worked. The orgasm receded like a wave ebbing from the shore.
He continued to lick and tease her, slipping two fingers into her opening. Again the orgasm mounted and again she begged, “Please sir, can I come? Please!” He didn’t answer, but kept tonguing her with relentless attention, his fingers working their magic inside her.
“Please!” she cried. “I can’t…” This time the orgasm rose with such strength inside her there was no way to stop it. Maybe he’d given permission and she just hadn’t heard. Oh god, she couldn’t help it. She was going to come. She was sweating and straining, trying to hold on, desperate for that one word that would let her give in to the onslaught.
“Please, sir…” she gasped but still there was no response.
And then she was coming, her body jerking in spasm after spasm that lifted her from the pillows. Still he didn’t stop, his tongue moving rapidly as he held her fast with his strong hands. Helpless and nearly senseless, Julianna ground against Anders’ tongue, all fear, all thought, obliterated in the face of the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced in her life.
Finally he let her go. Julianna lay panting, her chest heaving, her body covered in a sheen of sweat. What was going to happen now? He had trapped her again. She had tried to obey—she had asked for permission and held off when he’d refused. He’d tricked her and now he was going to hurt her, to punish her. It was all a setup, designed so she would fail.
She felt the lift on the bed as Anders got to his feet. “You taste like honey and cinnamon,” he said, as if they were lovers. He bent to release the knots at her wrists and then moved down to her ankles. When she was free of the rope, Julianna curled in on herself. She had meant to stay quiet but found herself blurting, “Please don’t hurt me again. I’m sorry I came. I asked, but you didn’t answer. I asked and I asked. I tried—”
“Shh.” Anders sat on the bed beside Julianna and put two fingers over her lips. “It’s okay. I didn’t want to stop, not even long enough to say yes. You are forgiven. It wasn’t your fault. I wanted to make you come. I wanted to see how far I could take you. Your passion is thrilling. You give completely of yourself, even in the most difficult of circumstances. It’s almost a shame that—”
What had he been going to say? She didn’t dare ask, vastly relieved he wasn’t going to hit her again. She heard a beeping sound and Anders reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pager. “Seems I’ve lost track of time. Jay is waiting to take you for your lesson in comportment.”
~*~
The day was warm and sunny, a fresh sea breeze gently moving over them. Here she was on this gorgeous tropical island for how many days, and she’d barely seen the light of day—only allowed out when being moved from one torture to the next.
Lessons in comportment didn’t sound so bad, though Julianna had no real idea what this would involve. Jay led Julianna by a leash attached to her collar across the compound. At least he didn’t jerk her along, but let her walk at a reasonable pace, the leash slack between them. She realized as they walked that she was no longer embarrassed about being kept naked. She didn’t like it, but the constant blushes had faded. This was simply how things were.
Jay led her to a sort of open-air pavilion, a makeshift floor created with palm fronds neatly woven together beneath a large canvas tarp stretched over high poles set in a circle. There was a small raised stage on one side, with several rows of folding chairs in front of it. A woman with dark skin and hair in a white silk dress awaited them, and when they were close enough, Julianna saw that it was Alma.
Her face lit up upon seeing them, which confused Julianna until she realized Alma had eyes only for Jay. Their exchanged look was a kind of embrace, though no words passed between them.
Jay unclipped the leash and stepped back. He turned one of the chairs to face the women and sat down, stretching out his legs and putting his hands behind his head. Alma turned her attention to Julianna. “You are okay?” she asked, touching Julianna’s shoulder.
Julianna glanced to Jay and back to Alma, not sure what new trap this was. “Oh,” Alma said. “No cameras out here. It’s safe to talk.”
“But…” Julianna’s glance darted again toward Jay, who had leaned his head back and closed his eyes. She hoped he stayed that way, not eager to have him watch whatever these comportment lessons turned out to be.
“It’s okay. Jay is a good man. He won’t say anything. We—we have an understanding.”
Julianna didn’t know what to say to this. She recalled now that brief but bright smile the two had exchanged at her bungalow, the only real smiles she’d seen on this godforsaken island, and now their shared look of love. Yes, it was the look of lovers. But that made no sense. How could Alma, clearly kept on the island against her will, have fallen in love with one of her captors?
Alma again touched Julianna’s shoulder. “I know your number, but I don’t know your name.” She said it almost shyly, and smiled.
Julianna felt a small, fierce rush of gratitude at the question. “Julianna,” she said, savoring the syllables. She was not a number. She was Julianna Beckett.
Alma nodded, repeating the name in her lilting accent. “You look well. They are feeding you? You are adapting?”
A small hysterical laugh welled up in Julianna’s throat. “I look well?” Julianna tugged at the thick leather collar around her neck and then wrapped her arms around her naked body. “I guess, for being half-starved and kept prisoner and tortured every waking moment, I’m just fine and dandy.” She heard the bitterness in her own voice. She put a hand over her mouth, hardly able to believe she’d just said that out loud with Jay only a few feet away, but Alma only smiled sadly and nodded.
“I am sorry. You are right. I forget sometimes there is a world beyond this place. It almost has come to seem normal now, the only life I know. Until Jay came—” She glanced at the man, not finishing her sentence.
Julianna’s curiosity was piqued. “Until Jay came…” she prompted. When Alma didn’t answer, she ventured, “You aren’t, uh, for sale? I mean, not like the other women here. Like me.” Like me. For sale. I’m for sale. How fucking bizarre is that?
Alma shook her head. “No. I used to belong to Jason. But he,” she lowered her head, sadness moving over her face, “grew tired of me. Now I serve all the men on the island, and help with some of the training of the new girls.”
I used to belong to Jason. Before Julianna could probe further, sh
e heard someone approaching from behind them and whirled to see Anders, broad shouldered and smiling, his golden hair glinting in the sun. Jay sat up abruptly in his chair at Anders’ approach and leaned forward, his hands now resting on his knees, his expression alert.
The lines of Alma’s face fell into a bland sort of calm. She dipped her head gracefully toward Anders. “Good afternoon, sir.”
“Hello, Alma.” He moved toward Jay and, grabbing one of the chairs, pulled it alongside the other man and sat. “I found myself with a little free time and thought I’d watch the lesson.”
“We were just getting started,” Alma said. She turned to Julianna. “Today we will focus on walking and kneeling. If we have time, we’ll cover a few of the basic positions as well.”
“Come over here,” Anders called. “Have her do it in front of us to keep her properly motivated.”
Julianna saw the briefest flash of irritation move over Alma’s face, a tiny ripple in the calm, but when she turned toward him she was smiling and again dipped her head submissively. “Yes, sir, as you wish.”
Taking Julianna gently by the arm, she led her to stand in front of the men. Jay’s eyes were on Alma, which suited Julianna just fine, but Anders was gazing at her, his eyes moving over her body like a caress. She felt herself flushing and looked down.
There was a shoebox on the ground nearby. Alma took out a pair of very high heels, which Julianna regarded with dismay. She took Julianna’s hands to support her as she reluctantly stepped into them. “The key here,” Alma began, “is to get used to the new positioning of your weight in the shoes. Stand still for a while and then turn slightly to each side.”
Julianna tried to obey, feeling ridiculous in front of the men, naked save for the high heels. Alma put a hand on Julianna’s lower back. “Posture is crucial. Stand straight and proud. Good. Now you will take a few steps. Keep your legs as straight as possible and close together. Start off with slow, short steps, placing your heel down first and then rolling onto the flat of your foot, the ball and then your toes.”
Julianna tried to follow the complicated instructions, wobbling forward. “Not too bad,” Alma said. “Remember to swing your arms as you walk. This will help you to keep your balance. With each step, point your feet as straight in front of you as you can.”
She took one of Julianna’s hands and began to lead her back and forth in front of the men, keeping up a running commentary as she went. Julianna had no idea there was so much involved in just walking in a pair of fucking shoes. “Remember, the more relaxed you are, the easier it will be to keep your balance. Back straight, head up, and round out those shoulders. That’s it. Good. Very good.”
Finally Alma let her take off the shoes, which had pinched her toes into an uncomfortable V. “Next, we’ll work on kneeling,” Alma said.
“Take off your dress so she can see the positions better,” Anders interjected. Julianna thought she detected a faint flush move over Alma’s tan skin, but she didn’t hesitate as she lifted the white dress over her head, revealing her naked body.
She had heavy breasts, the nipples large and brown above a short but slender waist that flared into generous hips. She, like all the women on the island, was shaven smooth. She seemed to take no notice at all of the men staring at them, completely focused on Julianna and their task. Julianna tried to imitate this behavior, but her eyes kept flitting toward the men, who watched them, Julianna thought, like slavering dogs waiting for their bones.
Julianna tried to copy Alma’s positions as she demonstrated various ways to kneel. Alma was so elegant and graceful, as fluid as a swan gliding on a lake, while Julianna felt awkward and clumsy beside her. The whole thing was made much worse by Anders’ presence. He was watching her so intently. She wondered worriedly if he was keeping some kind of score for which she would be punished later. It was hard to concentrate. She was hot and thirsty. Her muscles were growing tired and her temper growing short.
Suddenly they heard men shouting nearby and all four of them turned to see what the commotion was. “She stabbed me! That fucking cunt stabbed me! With my own goddamn pen, she stabbed me!” Vince lurched into view, his hand clutched over his left thigh, blood spurting between his fingers. Anders and Jay leaped up. “Number fucking thirty-one, that little bitch,” Vince whined. “She took off into the ocean! Get her!”
Anders nodded toward Jay, his voice tense. “Send out an all-alert bulletin on your walkie-talkie and get the boat. Make sure Jason knows. I’ll stay with the girls.” Jay looked at Alma, who gave the tiniest of nods. Her eyes were wide with fear.
Number thirty-one. Sandy!
Vince collapsed onto one of the chairs and Anders crouched beside him, examining the gash on his thigh. Julianna stared at them, thinking of the petite waif of a girl, wondering how she had managed to get the pen from Vince’s hand, thinking how hard she had to ram it into his leg to create that wound. Before this, back in that other life when she’d taken the occasional self-defense course, they’d always said the best thing was to get away. Run! She’d liked this approach, squeamish at the thought of actually hurting someone else. But that was before she’d truly learned what rage felt like. She knew now, if she’d been the one with the pen and the chance, she wouldn’t have gone for Vince’s leg. She would have plunged that pen right into his eye, gouging it out without the slightest hesitation.
She stared at the big, stupid oaf of a man, who was still cursing and whining. “Stupid, fucking cunt,” she heard him mutter. “When I get my hands on her…”
Silently Alma touched Julianna’s arm and using her body as a shield from the men, pointed between the palms toward the shore and the ocean beyond. Julianna peered out, her heart giving a wild jolt at the sight of a small blond head bobbing in the current. Sandy was swimming out to sea!
In the distance, Julianna could hear the sound of the boat’s engine.
“She won’t make it,” Alma whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
Never give up.
Go, Sandy, go! Never give up! The words rose like a cheer in Julianna’s throat and she had to bite down on her lip to keep from shouting them aloud. Fuck you, Stephen! Fuck you, Jason! Fuck you all! Julianna had no idea how far other land might be, or if there was any way in hell Sandy would make it alive. Maybe a boat or ship would spot her and pull her to safety before these monster set out to track her down. Go, Sandy. Swim hard. You can do it Never give up!
Whatever happened, for this moment in time, one of them had beaten the system—she’d beaten them all. The tiny shoot of hope that had burrowed its way through Julianna’s fears flowered at that moment, all of that hope focused on the brave young woman swimming away from this wretched place, against all odds.
Julianna took Alma’s hand as they watched Sandy disappear from view.
Chapter 9
Anders used his walkie-talkie and a minute later Jorge and Pete appeared. They took Julianna back to the slave quarters, hustling her quickly along. As they went, Julianna could see Jason and Stephen standing on the shore, their hands raised to shield their eyes as they scanned the ocean for the missing girl. Jay’s boat was moving in a wide circle over the water.
As the men led her along the corridor of the slave quarters, Julianna decided to take a chance. She didn’t know if the guards knew what was going on or not. Somehow she suspected these two hadn’t been clued in. She whispered, “It’s Sandy. Uh, number thirty-one. She got away!”
She watched as the two usually implacable faces suddenly showed a spark of real interest. They looked at each other and then at her and she was pretty sure they hadn’t known until that moment. Her growing feeling that these two men were also slaves of some kind on the island strengthened. She waited, hoping they would say something, offer a bit of information, show that they cared or even that they didn’t. Something. But that spark passing between them was all she got before the masks were lowered again.
These were big, strong men! Why did they allow themselves to be use
d and controlled? What hold did Jason have over them? They seemed to come and go freely on the island. Was her gut wrong? Were they there of their own free will? Did they enjoy what they did? Did they get paid well to do it?
Without a word, they led Julianna to the closest empty cell. As Jorge opened the barred door, she tried again. “Do you think she’ll make it? She looked pretty far away when I saw her. Does she have a chance?”
“You talk too much,” Jorge said. “Silence is better.” The door shut with a clang and the scraping of the lock, and then they hurried off. She realized with a small shock that they hadn’t even taken the time to chain her to the bed. They must have been more affected by the news of Sandy’s escape than they let on.
She moved toward the door, gripping the bars and trying to see down the hall, but there was nothing to see. She could hear a woman nearby crying softly. How many of us are there here, she wondered. There were eight cells in total, but she had only seen two or three occupied at any given time. How many men were on the island? Anders, Stephen, Jason, Vince, Jay and the two guards. How quickly did they move the women in and out? She was number thirty-eight, and Sandy, thirty-one, had still been on the island, meaning there could be as many as eight women there, though some might have been sold in the interim.
Sold…or worse. Maybe Sandy wasn’t the first to escape. Or the first to die trying. What would happen to her if they caught her?
With a deep shudder, Julianna sat on her bed. She was hungry and thirsty, but she had grown used to that. She lay down and stared at the ceiling, mentally going over the setup of Stephen’s torture chamber and Ander’s training room. What was in there that she could get hold of? She knew she wouldn’t hesitate to attack Stephen, but what about Anders?
Dark Obsessions - Volume I: Four Intense Capture Fantasies in One Sizzling Collection Page 10
