by Zara Novak
“Yes, sir.”
I lay on my back, flinching at the cold stone underneath me, my legs straight and my arms at my sides. He moved around me in a way I hadn’t expected, kneeling so he was above my head and facing towards my toes. He moved over me, positioning his cock so it was just above my mouth.
“Open slave,” he ordered.
I did.
He moved his hips down, guiding his cock into my mouth. His crotch was directly over my face, his hands were on the floor either side of my stomach. He pulled his hips back and started fucking my mouth.
Hard.
Breath rushed from my nose as his cock slid in and out. He didn’t push so deep that he hit my throat, the thrusts were fast but shallow, only going to the halfway point that he knew I could handle.
I didn’t think it was possible to feel both degraded and aroused, but somehow, he had done it again. The idea of being used like this drove me wild for some reason. I longed to open my legs and have my own release, but he had been very clear about the rules.
Don’t touch yourself. No more orgasms.
I went to do it anyway, but he grabbed my hand and pinned it to the ground. He started fucking my mouth harder, his cock tensing and swelling with the speed. I realized he was coming. His breath went fast and deep, like a caveman after a kill.
With one final thrust he pushed all the way and buried his cock up to the hilt. He exploded in my mouth and throat, plumes of molten cum squirting into my throat like liquid fire. My hands moved of their own accord, under my control, not his. I threw them around his thighs and squeezed my fingers down, holding him tight and deep as I swallowed his cum down.
I counted half a dozen squirts and then it finally stopped. When he was finally done, I realized I was breathing so hard that I was dizzy. I let go of his thighs, wondering why I had decided to hold him in the first place, and let my arms drop to my sides.
He pulled out slowly, his cock completely cleaned of his cum. I had drunk it all down.
“You continue to surprise me slave,” he said, his own breath sounding a little heady. He turned around then and crouched down, straddling my body for a few seconds to kiss me. It was an unnecessary gesture on his part. He had used his slave and defiled her, a kiss was only an act of kindness, one that showed appreciation and care.
I savored it, feeling a bolt of invigoration at his unexpected affection. I was completely spent, lying on the cold stone, used, defiled, exhausted. He finally pulled away and stood up, ending the kiss that lasted only a few seconds.
“Surprise, sir?” I asked.
“You are gifted when it comes to pleasure,” he said. “Perhaps you are not completely useless after all. That mouth of yours, and those hands. It’s like they were built for milking my cock dry.”
“Thank you, sir,’ I said, unsure of what else to say.
“And now we are done,” he said with a note of finality. “You can keep the robe for now. It will give you warmth through the night.”
I looked over at the disheveled white robe in the middle of the cell. It was the only comfort I had in this prison. Without it I would probably freeze in here. This meagre gift was a reminder of this cruel reality. This man wasn’t kind or generous, he was a psychopath keeping me locked up for his own sexual amusement, and I was playing along like some horny teenager at summer camp.
Without another word he made for the door. Light poured in from the corridor outside. He stepped out, looked back at me and with a wave of his hand the door closed again. I heard the key in the lock and then nothing else.
I was trapped in here, his cum in my mouth and a plug in my ass, a bathrobe the only item of comfort in a blank stone cell.
The gravity of the situation was really only just starting to dawn on me. My captor had dissected my insecurities immediately and taken full advantage of them. Shower the deprived virgin girl with compliments. Indulge her darkest fantasies. Make this a game for her.
I had to get my head on straight. There was nothing good for me here apart from getting out. If I didn’t keep in my mind how dangerous my captor is, I would end up getting killed.
My earlier attempt at escaping had almost been laughable. I’d been stupid to think I could have got away that easily. Going forward I’d have to be a lot more careful. I’d have to plan; I’d have to take my time. I might even have to act like I was going along with his sick and twisted game.
If I wanted to get out of here alive and free, I had to start being smarter. What was the alternative, spend the rest of my life in this cell, waiting for the beck and call of a deranged madman?
Either I stayed here and played the game until he got bored of me and killed me, or seriously put some effort into thinking up a real escape plan. I knew one thing for certain, I would get out or die trying.
Even if it meant killing him.
Chapter 3
Rachel
The wind howled throughout the night, a tempest of choral shrieking that battered the stone walls outside my cell, making me feel as though I was falling through a hurricane.
At some point I must have fell asleep, because several hours later I found myself waking in the corner with the robe wrapped around me, my only comfort and warmth. The pristine white Egyptian cotton was already dirty from being on the stone floor. Just like my skin. When would I be allowed to bathe again?
Either Vincent had come back while I was asleep or I had missed it earlier, but there was a large gallon bottle of water in the opposite corner.
There was nothing else in the cell.
I sat up against the wall, squinting at the flickering torch light as I rubbed sleep out of my eyes. The torch too looked like it had been replaced. Someone had definitely been in here while I was asleep.
I then noticed something else had been left as well as the water. There was a tablet lying on the ground by the door. I pushed myself up off the floor, wrapped the robe around myself and tried to ignore how cold the stone felt on my feet as I walked over.
I bent over and picked up the tablet. As I did so the screen turned on and took me to some sort of catalog. A small number in the bottom corner told me I was on page two, but the arrows to go back and forward were greyed out. There were nine items on this page, and underneath each of them there was a price and a brief description. My eyes deciphered the information.
Thin bed. 3 points. Pillow. 1 point. Mattress. 10 points.
That was just the top row. There was also a sheet, a mattress cover, a toothbrush, a book, and an option that said ‘food’. There was one final square that said: Rest of catalog. 30 points.
My eyes flicked back and forth over the items, trying to figure out what exactly was going on here. I then noticed another number in the top right of the screen, next to a small gold coin. Something told me that was a balance.
I had 1 point.
“What the ever loving…” I whispered to myself, realizing what I was holding. My captor had pushed a catalog under my door, a chance for me to buy back small pieces of luxury and reclaim a semblance of humanity by earning points.
It didn’t take much to figure out. I would obviously earn points by playing along and following the rules. I had no doubt he would take them away for my transgressions.
The son of a bitch.
I pressed the button at the bottom of the tablet, attempting to exit the catalog so I could see what else was on the device. Nothing happened when I pressed the button, even when I pressed it rapidly or held it down. I tried swiping up from each edge of the screen, convinced I could find something I shouldn’t.
There was nothing.
I turned the device over in my hands. There was no protective case, just the tablet’s black shell. It wasn’t a brand I recognized; the thing was completely alien to me.
My captor had thought of everything.
I spent the next couple of minutes trying to see if I could ‘hack’ the tablet somehow, but nothing was jumping out to me straightaway, I couldn’t even find a way to power the thi
ng off and on. My own frustration made me want to hurl the thing across the room, but I decided against it, Vincent would probably see that as another punishable offence.
After a while I set the thing down in the corner and forgot about it. I went and drank a generous amount of water from the gallon jug that had been left in the corner. I hadn’t intended to drink so much but I must have been thirsty. I don’t think I’d had a proper drink since leaving my apartment.
How long ago was that anyway? By all accounts I knew I hadn’t been missing more than a day, but I already felt like I had been a prisoner here in this castle for a lifetime. I let out a sigh and looked around the empty cell. It was hard to keep track of time in a room with no windows.
It was either getting warmer outside or I was getting more used to the temperature in here.
I then noticed a crack of light coming from around one of the boarded-up windows. It must have been day outside. I was so confused about what time it currently was, sleeping through the night and waking up in the day wasn’t something I had ever done. My parents had always made sure my schedule was full of after school activities or volunteering.
I’d never had time to do the whole hibernating teenager thing.
But here I was now, trapped in a room with no windows, a crack of light the only telltale clue to tell me what time of day it might be. I supposed if I was keeping the company of a vampire now then my activities were going to be a lot more nocturnal. My captor might be impossibly fast and strong, but he definitely had weaknesses, and some of them were the cliché tropes often associated with vampires.
When I was younger, I had loved to read books like that. They were one of my secret sins, the quietest form of rebellion a girl could muster in a household of stifling rules and religious suppression. The library was often my only chance to escape and get away. My internet usage was monitored, I wasn’t allowed to talk to boys on the phone, and the only time I ever went to a friend’s house was to study the Bible.
My parents even monitored my library card of course, but a stroke of luck had given me a little anonymity when I’d joined the town library. My father had taken me on my eleventh birthday, after I had spent months hounding them for a library card. He was going to do the application with me, but when a call came in from church, I had to do it on my own.
Printing a library card is easy enough, but the old woman working behind the counter that day seemed to have a tough time working the new computer system. She ended up printing two library cards for me. One for a Rachel Chase, another for Rachel Chaise. The old lady gave me both cards and we laughed it off. I thought it was funny at the time. I made a corny joke about a chaise lounge and I was off on my way.
It didn’t occur to me until much later to try the card, and to my surprise it worked. I now had two memberships. I kept the second card completely secret, and every time my parents logged on to see what books Rachel Chase had been taking out, they found a satisfying list of books relating to religious study.
Rachel Chaise? She read everything she could get her hands on, and she had a period were overtly erotic vampire fiction was her thing. There was one particular author whose books were the exact same size as a religious reference Bible. I used to just slip the cover off one and put it on the other.
Somehow my parents, as much as they snooped, never found out. I could have sworn once though that my mother had been lifting the books from my room and reading them in secret.
Maybe she had her own vices too.
Reading those books had been an escape, and they had taught me a whole lot of useless information about things that vampires were vulnerable to. That information had seemed useless at the time anyway, now I was in this living nightmare, and I might actually be able to use some of this information to arm myself.
Vincent had already illustrated some of his vulnerabilities. He couldn’t cross the threshold of a doorway of a private space. He couldn’t stand near crosses or silver for long. Holy water had almost blinded him and burned his face off. A torch on the wall wouldn’t do anything, but I had weapons at my disposal that could actually hurt him.
What about daylight, or a stake to the heart?
Maybe I could get out of here after all.
I went up to the blocked window closest to me and inspected the wood again. The wood was solid and fixed well, there was no doubting that, but the small crack of light gave me a small hope that this fixture wasn’t invulnerable.
Before long my optimistic streak and my resilience had worn thin. I went back to the corner where I had fallen asleep and crouched down on the floor with the tablet on the ground next to me. I hugged my arms around my legs and tried to mess with the tablet some more.
No success.
I dropped my head into my knees and urged anything to happen. I had no idea how much time passed. Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like an eternity. At some point I looked up again and noticed the light around the edges of the window was gone. It must have been night again.
Did he really just expect me to sit in here and rot away, like a mindless animal?
The thought alone made me angry. Even prisoners got a fucking TV. Where did this bastard get off? Did he know nothing of compassion?
For the first time since arriving here I got on my knees and prayed. I hadn’t done this so far because I’d fallen out of sorts with my faith after finally getting away from my parents. I wasn’t turning my back on God, but faith so strongly reminded me of my oppressive upbringing that it left a bad taste in my mouth.
I guess I was figuring things out on my own and waiting for a good time to go back to him.
Now seemed as good as time as any.
Maybe turning my back in the first place had been my mistake. This was my punishment. I had fallen straight into the arms of the devil. Literally.
“Please God,” I said, my hands in front of me and my knees on the ground. “Send me something to get me out of this darkness. Save me from this monster. Deliver me from evil. Save my soul. Show me a sign. Give me something.”
My prayer ended with a flinch, which came from me reacting to the door opening. I about jumped up to my feet as he walked through the door, his entire aura projecting an air of cool confidence.
“Good evening, slave,” he said, purring the words like a bored housecat. “I had a servant leave you gifts while I slept. Did you find them well?”
I looked down at the tablet on the ground next to me. “I did. You left water too, how thoughtful of you.”
He ran his tongue over his white teeth, seemingly amused by my tone. “It’s probably best for you that we don’t get off on the wrong foot tonight. I’m in a bad mood, and I will take it out on you.”
Try it fucker.
“Yes, master.”
“I believe the tablet is probably simple enough for a girl like you to understand. You can buy luxuries. Your behavior is your currency. You will note you currently have one point.”
“The pillow,” I said. “Give me the pillow.”
He twisted his mouth as if thinking something over. “Sorry, I should say, you had one point. He pulled a small remote from his pocket and pressed a button. “That has now been subtracted for your tone just now.”
I couldn’t fucking believe it. I picked up the tablet and the catalog automatically filled the screen. The number in the top-right corner, my balance, was now at zero. I huffed my disbelief, shook my head and bit my lip. He was something else.
The urge to open my mouth and let him know what I thought was strong, but I bit it all down. There was no point in giving him what he wanted, he was trying to get me riled up. The angrier I got, the more points he took away.
With a calming breath I put on my best smile and nodded. “A very good decision, master. Most brilliant.”
Vincent let out a sharp laugh. “Excellent slave, you are learning very fast. Keep up the good behavior and you might have a point by dawn. As things stand the night is young and we have matters to attend to.”
/> I swallowed back my fear—which was also part curiosity—and blinked. “Matters, sir?”
“Unexpected visitors,” he said. “A diplomatic concern that I have to deal with. Unfortunately, I need to have something on the end of my arm, so we will have to get you cleaned up and make you presentable. Come with me.”
Victor stepped back so I could walk out the door. I didn’t move straight away, I turned my head and looked at him. He looked back at me with impatience blazing in those crimson red eyes.
“Did I stutter, slave? Hurry up and walk before I make you.”
“You’re not telling me everything,” I said. It seemed obvious enough. Why else would he spring me out of the cell after just one night? What interest did he have in parading me about in front of others? “This isn’t just some routine thing. You need me.”
His eyes flashed with the promising swell of rage. I didn’t particularly want to test him or push his buttons, he was still the one holding all the cards, but the axis of power had shifted ever so slightly—even if only a small amount—in my direction, and there might be something I could do here to give myself an advantage.
The vampire didn’t flash forward as I expected him to. He let out a curt breath and looked at me in a way that inspired utter fear. “You have already delayed me by forty seconds. Waste another and I will double the punishment I already have in store for you. Move. Now.”
This time his tone alone was enough to get me moving. I walked forward out of the cell and stepped into the corridor outside. The idea came to me that I should properly start learning my surroundings and the castle’s interior layout as best I could, so I could one day use that information to my advantage when I next tried to escape.
The corridor branched off in two different directions. I looked both ways and made a note of any landmarks. Paintings that stood out or any other identifiable items. The corridor to my left carried on for about fifteen feet before turning out of sight. At the end there was a large portrait of a knight on a white horse. On the right there was a table with a Ming vase on it. Vincent exited the cell, the door closing behind him.
