Forgetting his threat, Gina let out a shocked yelp.
The man slapped her again, so hard it made her ears ring. Without a word, he got to his feet, and, to her vast relief, left the room.
Her relief was short-lived, however, because he returned a moment later, a roll of duct tape in his hand. He pulled off a long piece and pressed the sticky tape tightly over Gina’s mouth. “You want to do things the hard way, then that’s what we’ll do. Gordon likes the wild ones. Says they’re a challenge. They never stay wild, though, Gina. Just remember that. Once Gordon has a go at you, you’ll learn to behave, I can promise you that.”
The walls and ceiling began to sway unpleasantly and saliva filled Gina’s mouth behind the tape gag. Black spots obscured her vision, and the man’s vile words were blocked out by a ringing sound in her ears…
When Gina again regained consciousness, she was no longer tied to the chair. Instead, she lay on a thin mattress on the floor, her hands cuffed in front of her and secured by a long, thick chain that was clipped to a large eyebolt fixed into the wooden-planked floor. She was still naked, duct tape over her mouth.
She rolled to her back. Sturdy chains of various lengths hung from the ceiling all over the room. Large eyebolts had been anchored into the floor in different configurations. What the hell was this place?
Cautiously, she sat up, struggling to balance without the use of her hands. She winced at the sight of her naked body reflected back at her from the mirrors on all sides of the room, and fell back against the mattress, moaning through the tape. What was going to happen to her?
As if in answer, Gina heard the click of a lock and then the door swung open. It wasn’t the same man as before, and she realized this must be Gordon. Unlike the casually dressed first man, Gordon was wearing a blazer and dark slacks. Very muscular, he was around five-foot-eight, with sandy blond hair and icy blue eyes. Probably closer to forty than thirty, he would have been handsome, except for his expression, which was cruel and sharp.
Without speaking, he crouched in front of Gina, who shrank back.
Placing a hand on her head, he reached with the other for a corner of the duct tape covering her mouth. With a sudden, sharp yank, he jerked it away.
Gina cried out, reflexively lifting her manacled hands to her face.
“Welcome to our home, Gina. This is now your home as well. Your old life is over.”
“Oh, my gosh,” she cried. “No, please—”
He cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand. “I don’t mean I’m going to kill you, stupid girl. I mean you’re entering a new phase, one in which you exist solely to amuse my partner and me. From this moment forward, you’re our slave, our personal whore. We will teach you to obey. You may come to love it. You may come to hate it. That’s of no concern to me. None at all. But I will tell you this.” He leaned so close she could feel his hot breath on her face. “You are not to resist us, no matter what, or you will pay. Dearly. Am I understood?” His voice was cold, and though his lips formed a smile, his eyes were flat as blue pebbles.
Fear twisted in Gina’s gut and the room began to sway again.
Gordon grabbed her by a fistful of hair. “If you faint, little girl, I’ll revive you in a way you’ll find most unpleasant.” He let go of her hair. “Stand up.”
Gina stared at him, her eyes wide, her mouth trembling. But she knew instinctively there was no room for negotiation. This monster meant what he said. Shifting awkwardly, she managed to get herself to her feet.
Gordon took her cuffed wrists firmly in one hand and raised her arms high above her head. Before she could react, he had secured the cuffs to a chain that dangled just overhead.
Gina squeezed her eyes shut. There was a low, feral moaning sound coming from her own mouth
“Nice tits.” Gordon grabbed one of her nipples and twisted it.
Gina’s moan changed to a squeal, her eyes flying open in alarm.
Gordon pulled something from the inside pocket of his blazer, and Gina saw it was a pair of wooden clothespins. Again grabbing her nipple, he pulled it taut, while simultaneously opening one of the clothespins. He let the clothespin snap down over the extended nipple.
Gina screamed in shocked pain and attempted to twist away from the madman, but the chain holding her wrists kept her from moving more than a couple of inches. Her nipple was held tight in a coiled vise of pain. Her other nipple tingled with unwelcome anticipation, and she shrank back as much as she was able as he grabbed it and snapped the second clothespin over it.
She screamed again and began to whimper steadily. “Oh, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” she cried. “Please, take them off. Take them off.”
“Trust me, little girl,” Gordon replied with a nasty grin. “You don’t want me to do that.” He flicked at the clothespins. “Now, I’m going to whip you.”
Gina forgot about her nipples. “What?” she whispered in horror.
“I said, I’m going to whip you. But since it’s your first time”—he cocked his head, assuming a quizzical expression—“at least, I assume it’s your first time? No secret BDSM games with your little friends down in the church basement, hmm?”
Gina had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn’t seem to care, his smile mocking and cruel.
“At any rate, assuming this will be your initiation into erotic pain, I’ll start with something relatively benign.” Again opening his jacket, he produced a short-handled riding crop like something Gina imagined would be used on a horse.
He smacked Gina’s right breast just above her clamped nipple. The small rectangle of leather stung like a slap. “Please,” she begged breathlessly, “please don’t do this. Please let me down. Let me go.”
He shook his head with a frown. “If you keep whining, I’ll gag you. I don’t mind cries of pain”—the frown lifted into a cruel smile—“in fact, I like them, but stop whining and begging. It’s getting on my nerves.”
He smacked her left breast and then her belly. “We’ll soon work that blubber off you,” he said nastily.
Heat seared her face at his cruel remark, but that was the least of her worries.
Moving behind her, he smacked her ass in a flurry of stinging strokes that echoed in the empty room, each one followed by Gina’s cries. Then he began to whip her back and shoulders, the sting like wasps buzzing relentlessly over her flesh.
She was unable to catch her breath. She began to dance on her toes, twisting wildly in her chains as the blows rained over her body. When the crop landed directly on one of the clothespins, the pain was unbearable, and she screamed.
A warm stream of liquid was suddenly cascading between her legs, and she realized with shocked horror that she’d wet herself in her fear and pain.
Gordon took a step back, his face twisting into a grimace. “You filthy pig,” he snarled, his voice dripping with disgust. To her vast relief, he put the crop back into his jacket. Reaching for the clothespins, he released them both at once.
The pain was blinding, and Gina sagged in her chains, tears streaming down her cheeks. Reaching up, Gordon released her cuffs, and Gina sank to her knees in the puddle of urine.
He strode to the door. Turning back, he said, “I’ll send Frank in to clean up the mess. Tomorrow your real training begins.”
Chapter 2
Gina lay drifting on the edge of a dream. For a second, she thought she was home. The smell of coffee and baking bread pulled her closer to waking. Mom’s breakfast was waiting. Time to get up for work.
But as she opened her eyes into the bright glare of the fluorescent light bouncing off the mirrored walls, she came fully awake with a sharp cry of dismay.
The man called Frank, had come in a few minutes after Gordon had left her, a bucket and mop in his hands. She’d crawled over to her mattress by then and curled into a miserable, fetal ball.
He hadn’t spoken to her, but had only cleaned up the mess and then left her alone again. He was definitely the nicer of the two, if one m
onster could be nicer than another, but she had been too exhausted and miserable to try and plead her case again, and she knew in her heart of hearts he wouldn’t listen anyway.
Her body was stiff, every joint and muscle aching. She must have been asleep for quite a while, though it was impossible to know just how long in the windowless room. She sat up on the mattress, her mouth watering as she realized the aromas from her dream were in fact real.
There was a tray next to the mattress covered by a dishtowel. Tentatively, Gina reached out and removed the towel. There was a blueberry muffin on a plate, along with an empty mug, a spoon, a small pitcher of hot coffee, a ceramic creamer and several packets of sugar.
Suddenly ravenous, Gina reached for the muffin and took a large bite. It was unbelievably delicious, the warm, fresh blueberries bursting in her mouth. If it was going to be her last day on earth, she might was well die full.
She tugged at the leather cuffs that were clipped around her wrists, but couldn’t see a way to get them open. Giving up, she poured some coffee into the mug and added cream and sugar. Just as she lifted the mug to her mouth and took the first sip, the door to her prison opened. Startled, Gina slurped the coffee, which burned the roof of her mouth. She set down the mug with a shaking hand as Frank entered the room.
Still dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans, he had a large duffel bag slung over one shoulder, which he dropped just inside the door. “Good morning, Gina. Sleep well?” he asked conversationally, as if such a thing could have been remotely possible. “I see you’ve found your breakfast.”
He walked toward her and crouched in front of her. “I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself last night. I’m Frank.”
Gina hunched forward, drawing up her knees in an effort to hide her naked body. “Look,” she said, her voice trembling, “my dad has money. If you want money, I promise I can get it for you. The church—”
He cut her off, laughing. “You ridiculous little girl, we don’t want your money. We want you. You’re our new toy, sweetheart. The sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be, I promise. There is no going back. Forget your past life. Gordon and I are your world now.”
Gina shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real. “My parents will find you. The police will track you down. You’ll go to jail—”
“Enough.” Frank’s tone sharpened, his eyes narrowing. “If they find us, then we haven’t done our jobs and deserve to be found. Meanwhile, you belong to us. We’ve stolen you, if you like. You are our possession, to be used as we see fit. Now hush or I’ll lose my temper. You wouldn’t want that.” He clapped his hands. “Finish up your breakfast. The day’s a wasting.”
Gina stared down at her half-eaten muffin, but her appetite had vanished. She pushed the tray away.
“Not hungry?” Frank shrugged. “Fine. You could stand to lose a few pounds, anyway.”
A hot blush moved over Gina’s face and throat, and she scooted back on the mattress.
He wrinkled his nose and grimaced. “I cleaned up the piss from the floor, but you could definitely use a bath.”
The heat intensified in her face, and she turned away, desperately wishing she could sink into the floor and escape this bastard and his cruel comments.
“Gordon doesn’t like dirty toys, so we better get you cleaned up.” He rose to his feet and reached into his jeans pocket. Pulling out a small key, he said, “Stand up and hold out your wrists.”
As she did, he unlocked the wrist cuffs and let them drop to the mattress. “We’re going to leave this room. I’m warning you now, don’t even think about doing something stupid like trying to get away. Gordon and I are both very strong, and we live miles and miles from anywhere.”
Placing his hand on the back of her neck, he led her from the mirrored room, down a hallway to a bathroom. There was a window beside the shower, and outside the sky was a deep blue, a bird twittering on a branch just beyond the glass. How could that bird possibly be singing when Gina was so miserable and afraid? How could the sun be shining when she had been plunged into this dark, waking nightmare?
Frank pointed to the toilet. “Need to go?”
Gina shook her head, though she did. There was no way she was going to pee in front of this man.
“Suit yourself, but I’d better warn you, if you piss on the floor again, you’re going to be punished. If you want to hold it in, make sure you do it more effectively than last time.”
He led her to the shower and turned on the water. “Cold shower, I’m afraid. You’ll have to earn a hot one.” Frank forcibly guided Gina into the icy spray.
She gasped and tried to back out.
“Stand still like a good girl, Gina, or I’ll make you.”
The steel in his voice and the look in his eye convinced her she had no choice. She stood shivering beneath the water as Frank rubbed a bar of soap over her body and lathered it up.
“Hands behind your head, feet apart,” he commanded.
Gina assumed the required position, her teeth chattering.
Frank washed her hair first, and then her body, lingering over her breasts and between her legs while Gina’s face burned with shame. Stepping back, he allowed her to get out of the shower, but instead of giving her the towel, he insisted on drying her himself while she stood, mortified and shivering. Finally, he combed her damp hair and then led her back down the hall to the mirrored prison.
It was warmer in there, and though Gina was still shivering from the cold shower, she was grateful for that small relief.
Frank walked to the duffel bag, picked it up and came over to her. He led her to a spot on the floor between a grouping of eyebolts. “Get down on your knees,” he commanded, pointing to the ground.
Gina glanced around the room with a half-formed notion of using some kind of weapon against him, but all she saw was her own naked form, reflected ad infinitum in the mirrored walls. Miserably, she knelt as ordered.
“Place your hands on the floor, arms stretched out in front of you, forehead touching the ground, ass raised.” As Frank spoke, he pulled and pushed Gina into the desired position, and then deftly re-attached the leather cuffs to her wrists. He added a pair on her ankles and a thick leather belt around her waist. He clipped chains to the O-rings on the cuffs and belt, and attached the other ends to the eyebolts embedded in the floor.
And then he left her alone in the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
As the seconds turned into minutes, Gina couldn’t stop trembling. She tried to calm herself. She was still alive. That was a good thing. Maybe this was a trial for her to endure, like the prophets had to in the Bible. She didn’t know why this was happening to her, but she had to be strong and rely on her faith.
It was hard to keep this in mind as she glanced sideways at herself in the mirrors. She was bound and splayed, her entire body, including all her private bits, completely exposed. It was uncomfortable to be bent and bound as she was, and if they kept her like this much longer, the discomfort would turn into pain.
And she still had to pee.
Tears seeped out of her eyes and splashed onto the wooden floor. Her knees ached. Her heart ached. What must her poor parents be going through?
The sound of the door opening made all thoughts fly from her head. The horrible man called Gordon came in on bare feet. He wore black jeans and no shirt. He carried what looked like a long, thin stick in one hand.
He crouched beside her. “Good morning, cunt.”
Gina was shocked to hear that awful word said aloud.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head up, causing Gina to gasp in pain.
“When I greet you, I expect a response,” the wicked man said calmly. “Now, repeat after me: ‘Good morning, Master. I am your cunt slave.’ That’s your response, got it?” He spoke slowly, with little inflection, as Gina’s blood froze in her veins.
Mercifully, he let go of her hair. “Now we’ll try that again, shall we?”
A sharp slap across her face stunned her into silence.
“You are very stupid, aren’t you, Gina? You can’t follow the simplest command. Luckily, I have plenty of time. You certainly aren’t going anywhere. So we’ll start again. But first, a punishment to help you remember to obey. I’m going to mark you with my favorite cane. It’s a very effective instrument.”
Gordon picked up the cane and waved it in the air, creating a menacing whooshing sound that made Gina wince. “Every time I correct you with this cane, I will expect you to kiss it in thanks for being taught a lesson.”
Gina began to cry in earnest, but Gordon seemed entirely unconcerned. His mouth was stretched into a tight smile and his eyes glittered, hard and bright.
He moved behind her and whipped the slender cane through the air.
Gina yowled, the pain like a searing line of fire across her ass.
Gordon returned to stand in front of her. He bent down and held the cane in front of her face.
Terrified of another stroke, Gina forced her lips into a pucker and touched them to the rod.
To her relief, Gordon nodded and took a step back. “Now, let’s see if the lesson stuck. Good morning, cunt.”
“G-good morning, um, Master,” Gina faltered. “What else? I can’t remember. Please don’t hurt me again!”
“Good morning, Master,” Gordon said in a patient tone. “I am your cunt slave.“
“Good morning, Master. I am your…” Her voice trailed to a whisper.
“I can’t hear you, cunt. If I can’t hear it, I’ll add another welt to your fat ass.”
“Oh, please, oh no!” She sniffled loudly and forced herself to begin again. Words. They were only words. “Good morning, Master. I am your c-cunt slave.” The word actually hurt to say, sticking in her throat like broken glass.
“Better. We’ll work on it.” He patted her damp head. “How ridiculous that a simple word should embarrass you even more than your position there on the ground. Your nasty, hairy twat is on display for all to see. I’m looking at it, cunt. It’s probably dry as a bone. Is it, Gina? Is your twat dry as a bone? Tell me your twat is dry as a bone, cunt.”
Dark Obsessions - Volume I: Four Intense Capture Fantasies in One Sizzling Collection Page 18
