First & Long

by Jesse Jordan

  “Sir, Kahled deserves his retribution,” Leon, the man in charge of The Sultan's men, says in Italian. “She broke his nose when he went into her cell.”

  “Then he got what he deserved for being sloppy,” I reply in English. Almost all of the men in The Network can understand English, even if some of the lower ranked ones don't speak it too well. “Besides, I can see it in Kahled's eyes, he's not interested in training. Let me guess.... wanted to dip his wick in the merchandise?”

  Kahled's eyes glare at me, and I smirk, he knows I pegged him right. I walk forward, past the girl without looking at her, directly into Kahled's face. “She let you get off with a broken nose, Kahled. Do you think The Sultan will let you get off with marking her?”

  “Some like marks on their slaves,” Kahled replies in his hesitant, thickly accented English. He's got a point, I've unfortunately seen over the past three years what some of the owners do to their 'property.'

  “Well, let's see if this one is worth marking or not,” I say, holding my hand out. It's a risk, I'm pushing it as it is for some reason, but something in that woman's voice makes me want to push the line. Kahled though tightens his grip, and I know that he's not going to give up his weapon, not without me knocking him the fuck out, and there isn't need for that.... yet. “Fine. But it stays down until I say so. Or else you answer to me.”

  I'm not in his branch within The Network, but I do command respect, and I have a reputation of someone not to be fucked with. Kahled nods slightly, and I turn around.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  The blonde hair still frames her face, which looks like it's been carved by Michelangelo himself, lips that, even if one side is starting to swell from taking a shot, are flawless. Her gray eyes are intelligent, this is obviously no dumb bitch from the Jersey Shore despite her angry words when I came in. They flare with rage and anger, making them even more beautiful.

  The rest of her is just as perfect, the sort of woman that any real man should want in his life. Large, generous breasts, a flare to her hips and thighs that makes my cock stir in my pants... but still, it's hard to tear my eyes away from that face. She's scared, she'd be an idiot not to be, but she's got guts, enough to stare down what's now nearly a dozen of The Sultan's men and call them out. It's magnetic practically.

  “So what the fuck you lookin' at?” she asks, and I can hear it. She's used to men being intimidated by her, either by her brains, but most likely by her body. I can understand why, it's a body that once you see, let alone touch, is going to haunt your dreams and fantasies for the rest of your life. I know men who would literally sacrifice their lives for a chance with a woman like this, and in this instant, I'm not too sure they'd be that far off. More than that though, this woman knows it.

  Because of this though, she's severely disappointed by the world. Never meeting her match, I can read her like a book. She came to Europe because, regardless of whatever excuse she used when she booked her flight out of Newark, her life bored the shit out of her. Even now, facing a dozen of The Sultan's thugs and sailors, she's bored by it.

  What she needs... is training. Not the brutal, unthinking training that Kahled wants to inflict, like a child smashing a toy that it cannot fully appreciate.

  What this woman needs is real training.

  The sort of training that I can provide. The sort of training that so many have begged for, and none have been able to take. The sort of training that only the strongest of women can endure. I need a woman who can endure that training in my life.

  But looking at her flawless, voluptuous body, I see my own desires mirrored. I see a woman who needs completion. In the spirit and strength I see in those lustrous gray eyes, I know that what this woman needs.... is me.

  “Gentlemen... I believe I have a business proposal for you.”

  Jessica

  “Well, let's see if this one is worth marking or not,” the powerful man says, holding his hand up to take the whip from Mushmouth, who I guess is named Kahled. Kahled's hand tightens though, and after a moment the man lowers his hand, nodding his head slightly, as if he just doesn't really care. “Fine. But it stays down until I say so. Or else you answer to me.”

  He turns around, and my throat instantly goes dry. His intense eyes are nearly as black as his hair, with a jawline that looks like it could be used to chop wood it's so strong, sensuous lips that twitch when he sees me, his tongue coming out I think unconsciously to lick his plump lower lip. He's picked up a scar somewhere underneath his right eye, about two inches long and decently healed, but it's still there, a bone white smile in his tanned skin.

  The rest of him is just as powerful and perfectly put together, his arm and chest muscles straining against the fabric of his denim work shirt, his thighs making the black denim he's wearing swell.

  He looks at me, and I can tell... this man wants me. But not like any man who's begged me to fuck them before, not at all like the dozen or so assholes who want to rape me. This man wants me... but he wants me his way. It scares me but at the same time excites me, and I open my mouth, my fear talking. “So what the fuck you lookin' at?”

  The man's lips twitch in desire and amusement, and he actually chuckles. “Gentlemen... I believe I have a business proposal for you.”

  “A business proposal?” the lead thug says, switching to English again. I guess when they're talking about the merchandise, they like to discuss things in English. “What sort of business proposal, Mr. Rodrigo?”

  “Yes,” Rodrigo says, walking around me, studying me like the thugs did, but this time, I don't feel the same sense of disgust that I felt for the thugs, who never could have handled me. In fact, frighteningly, I feel a deep sense of self awareness. This is a man who can appreciate a woman like me, and I can feel his eyes burning into me as he walks around. I try to follow him, turning my head as best I can, and the whole time his face never loses the appreciative but amused look that it's had for the past ten seconds.

  “Mmmm, yes indeed. You see Leon, while Kahled might want to punish this woman, he's far too clumsy to damage such an flawless beauty. You damage the merchandise, you lose money for yourself and your capo. And you... men,” he says in such a way as to make me very certain what he thinks of Leon, Kahled, and the rest of the men, “you men are not up to the task of training such a wild stallion. You'd only hurt this one's value.”

  His words twist inside me. On one hand, I'm pissed off to be talked about like I'm a new car on the lot, like I might or might not come with power steering and in-dash navigation. But in his eyes, in the command in his voice, another side of me likes what I'm hearing. It's the side of me that's never been truly satisfied by a man, the dark side that I've never let even my deepest girlfriends in college know about, the side that wants a man like this.

  “So what you saying?” Kahled says, dropping the whip, his hand clenching in a fist. “You want girl?”

  “Who wouldn't?” Rodrigo says as if Kahled had asked if he wanted chocolate chip cookies. “Here's my offer. Give me this woman, take her out of the shipment. I'll train her, and then when The Sultan delivers her to a new owner, she'll be much, much better to him.”

  “Fuck you, I'm nobody's toy,” I hiss, and Rodrigo looks back at me, my next words dying on my lips when I see the expression in his eyes. They burn with intensity, both challenging me and telling me to shut the fuck up at the same time for my own damn good. I shut my mouth, at least for the moment.

  “Training this one could be quite a challenge. But I've got time,” Rodrigo says, turning his attention back to Leon and Kahled. “Now let her go, she's coming with me.”

  “Fuck this! I want blood!” Kahled says, pissed off. From out of seemingly nowhere he pulls a knife, I think it may have been my his waist but I'm not sure, stepping towards me. “I'll cut this bitch!”

  Rodrigo grabs Kahled's wrist and twists, the knife clattering to the concrete floor before Kahled's flipped, a bone somewhere breaking when he lands in an
ungainly thump. Kahled screams, and I see a few of the girls who'd been watching me smiling, cheering Rodrigo in the background.

  Rodrigo doesn't let go of Kahled's wrist but instead kneels on the side of the man's head, pulling until Kahled passes out. When he's out Rodrigo lets go and stands up, two of Kahled's friends checking on him before dragging him away. Rodrigo gets up, the only mar on his body being a little bit of dust on his knee, and looks back at Leon, who's pissed.

  “The Sultan will hear about this!” Leon yells, his lip curling. “You cannot fight one of The Sultan's men and get away with it!”

  “He can, if you pull your head from your ass,” the woman's voice says behind me as she steps around me. When she does, I realize she must be with Rodrigo, she's so beautiful. The hair's different, and her skin isn't so much tanned as a slight olive tone that I've always associated with, ironically, Greek women, and she's built like something from their mythology, a body and face worth starting a ten year war over. They must be lovers, there's no way that a woman like this would ever end up with a man other than someone like Rodrigo. “After all Leon, your man pulled a knife and attacked a more senior member of The Network. I'd suggest you think about that before you make threats about tattling to your.... leader again.”

  Leon's lip curls in anger, and he looks from the woman to Rodrigo, taking a deep breath. “Perhaps The Dryad has a point. But I cannot let this woman go for free.”

  Rodrigo laughs, nodding his head. “It always comes down to money, doesn't it, Leon? Fine. Then I'll pay, full standard price for a girl like this. We can agree to let Rachmaninoff set the price. Then, when I've either trained her or broken her, The Sultan agrees to broker my reselling her. The risk is all mine then. What do you say? Full value, and you don't have to worry about feeding or caring for her on the trip overseas, and nobody else gets anything broken.”

  “It's a generous offer Leon,” The Dryad says, looking the two men over. She turns and comes over to me, studying me carefully as well. She hums to herself in appreciation, and I realize I'm a little taller than her. Not much, but a little. “You know that Rodrigo's position within The Network means he could demand much more if he wanted.”

  Leon looks at Rodrigo for a moment, holding his eyes for a moment before he caves, his face crumbling before he nods, upset for some reason. More than anything though, it proves to me that this Rodrigo is the sort of strong man others listen to. “Fine. But The Sultan will still hear about Kahled.”

  “I'm sure he will either way,” Rodrigo says, turning around. “Now, what do I do about you?”

  “You can go fuck yourself,” I hiss as he steps forward. Alpha male or not, I'm not about to be fucking sold like a cow. “I'm nobody's slave, you fucking bastard!”

  “She's got a foul mouth,” The Dryad says, her deep violet eyes sparkling in amusement. “It might be her only physical flaw. You're going to have fun with this one, Rodrigo.”

  “We'll see,” Rodrigo says. “Now, if you'd step back please? And... lock the door. I think this girl needs a first lesson.”

  “You mean like these fuckers?” I growl as The Dryad goes over to the door and closes it, a locking sound coming from behind me. “You won't rape me, you limp dicked son of a bitch!”

  Rodrigo ignores my angry words, instead disappearing behind me as he goes for something. I hear the metal locker where Kahled got his whip opening again before it closes, and Rodrigo appears again, carrying what looks like a simple poncho. “It is not a fair test to ask you to fight naked, so....”

  Someone starts cranking, and the bar that's been pulling me up relaxes. I start to sit back onto my heels, my arms screaming, pins and needles racing all the way to my fingertips as Rodrigo takes a key out of his pocket and holds it up. “Here's the test. I will unlock your left hand, and give you the key, let you unlock yourself the rest of the way. Then, if you can hurt me, if you can cut me in any way, I give you my word of honor, you will be given a full set of clothes, your identification, and put on a plane back to your home. Freedom.”

  “If I hurt you?” I ask, and Rodrigo nods. “No rules?”

  “Just what I said... for now,” Rodrigo says, smirking. “Trust me, scratching and clawing won't work.”

  “We'll see,” I hiss, seeing that I'm choiceless. He want me to fight him? Fine. Jersey's in the house, bitch.

  Rodrigo unlocks my left hand while it's still too numb to do anything before he drops the key at my feet and steps back while the bar lowers the rest of the way and I can reach down, unlocking my right hand before I bend over, unlocking my left ankle first before Rodrigo interrupts. “No poncho?”

  “Fuck it,” I growl. He obviously likes my tits, most men have since I turned thirteen or so and went from flat chested to B cups in the course of one summer with more to come later. If I can distract him with my body while I go to cut him, then all the better. I unlock my right leg and pinch the key between my fingers, a stubby sharp point as I immediately jump at Rodrigo, aiming for his exposed face.

  He wants blood. Fine. I go for the skin, the key's got a decent tooth on it, I can get something...

  In a move so fast I can barely follow it with my eyes, Rodrigo's not there, disappearing like a ghost as I fall forward, barely catching my balance. Instead somehow he's behind me, my hand caught in his unrelenting iron grip, his other arm pulling me tight against him.

  “You've got guts, I'll give you that,” Rodrigo whispers in my ear, then something slides around my neck, and all I feel is pressure before the world goes red... then black. Just before sleep comes, he whispers again.

  “Guts won't be enough.”

  Rodrigo

  She fights me until the last, which actually in a lot of ways makes it easier, the move comes on faster the more you fight it. Her body presses against mine as I carefully lower her to the ground, looking up at Larissa who looks both amused and disappointed. “What?”

  “You didn't have to make it so quick,” she says in her normal unique sense of humor. “I barely had time to ask about a single bet.”

  “Yeah well,” I reply, looking around quickly at Leon and the other members of The Sultan's men, “bring me that poncho, and some rope, quickly. She won't be out long, and I want her fully tied up before then.”

  “No problem,” Larissa says, turning and barking some orders at The Sultan's men in Arabic, the other language that all of The Sultan's men know. Two of them jump to follow her orders while Larissa brings the poncho over and helps me wrap the woman in it. “Never seen you make such a quick purchase.”

  “Didn't exactly have time to haggle over things,” I respond as I wrap the woman up like a burrito, pulling the hood tight over her beautiful face, leaving her just a small breathing hole. I can't afford for her to know where exactly I'm taking her, not yet. After using two of the corners of the poncho to tie it to itself, I tie her upper body in two more places, then once each around her knees and ankles. Not a perfect job, but I think it'll be good enough.

  One of the The Sultan's men returns with some flat nylon webbing and I get it around her for a final binding just as the woman starts to stir. I don't have a choice, I put pressure on the side of her neck again until she passes out one more time, but I can't risk it again, it's not healthy. “Can you go get my truck?”

  “You're going to owe me,” Larissa says with a chuckle as she takes my keys and leaves. I pick up the girl and heave her over my shoulder, perhaps not the most dignified of carries but effective as I grab her behind her knees and carry her towards the door, using the nylon webbing to help balance her better.

  “I'm taking my purchase back to my villa,” I say to Leon, who follows me. “The Dryad will stay and supervise until I come back. If I hear of any of the other merchandise being mistreated while I'm gone... whoever it is will answer to me personally, regardless of if you work for The Sultan or not. Understand?”

  Leon gives me a surly nod just as Larissa brings my truck around, grinning when she throws it into park. “Fun! I shou
ld get one of these!”

  “I keep telling you that,” I comment as she opens the back of the crew cab. The girl on my shoulder starts to stir, her voice slurring. I quickly put her inside and stretch her out, buckling the lap belt on the middle seat around her waist.

  “What... who? Fucker!” she starts to yell, and I put my hand on her shoulder, holding her down.

  “Listen to me very carefully,” I say quietly, soothingly in her ear. There's a time for iron, and there's a time for velvet, something I know very well. “You're blindfolded for your safety. If these other men thought you knew where you are, they'd kill you regardless of how many asses I can kick, and even I can't handle ten on one odds. Now, I'm taking you to my place. If you stay quiet the whole trip, I'll make your new room more comfortable. If you don't, if you kick or damage my truck, you're going to be thrown in there as naked as you are right now. Your choice, but either way, you're leaving the slave pens as mine. Now, what's your name?”

  The woman squirms a little, but stops after a second. “Jessica Prince.”

  “Okay Jessica Prince, do you understand what I just told you?” I ask, leaning in close enough that I can smell her scent even over the moldy reek of the poncho. She smells like a real woman should even, rich and authentic. My cock stirs in my pants, and I tell it to shut the fuck up for a moment, I've got more important things to worry about. “Just a simple yes or no will be fine.”

  “Yes,” Jessica says, and I pat her on the shoulder.

  “Very good. Now, lift your head up, I'm going to close the door,” I say, nodding in approval as she does just that and I get to close my rear door without any issues. I go around to the driver's side, where Larissa is waiting for me. “I told Leon that you'd monitor until I get back?”

  “Don't take too long, you wouldn't want Scoglitti or The Sultan thinking you're being slack,” Larissa says with a chuckle, looking in my back window. “She's beautiful. You're going to have a lot of fun with her.”