by Fawn Bailey
“It’s beautiful,” she admitted. “I have never seen anything quite like it. I haven’t gone for a swim yet, but the girls say it should be warm enough in a couple of weeks to do it.”
A silence fell between us as I wondered whether I’d ever be allowed to go outside again. I’d spent some time on a balcony - they’d allowed me the small mercy to soak up some sun and help my too-pale complexion.
But I still felt trapped - always with a guard standing watch or sometimes Pia looking at me with contemptuous eyes that spoke plainly of the dislike she felt for me.
“I have to ask,” Amber finally said, and I looked up at her curiously. “I… I don’t completely understand what’s happening here.”
I stayed quiet, waiting for her to go on.
“It’s… it’s not a ballet training camp, is it?” she asked gently, and I shook my head slowly, looking down at the beautiful hardwood floor.
I felt tears pricking my eyes, but I didn’t want Amber to notice. I felt responsible for her being there, guilty because she was made to stay in the Mansion with me. I wanted to explain so badly, yet I feared what would happen to her if she knew the whole truth. I knew what was going to happen to the other girls in the house.
They would be sold to the highest bidder.
I couldn’t imagine a fate like that for Amber, my innocent friend from back home. Even though we were the same age, it felt like she was still a young girl while I’d been forced to become a woman, and I couldn’t doom her to a fate similar to my own.
“It’s not,” I whispered, hating myself for giving her the truth that would no doubt be her downfall. “It’s something else.”
“I had a feeling,” she said. “Will… do you think we’ll ever get out of here? Do you think they’ll let us go?”
I looked into her beautiful eyes and struggled with my answer.
Amber was a beautiful girl, a gorgeous redhead with porcelain pale skin and a pretty, petite body. I’d seen the way the guards in the Mansion looked at her and did my best to keep them away, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to watch over her forever. Sooner or later, one of them would slip through the cracks, and she would be lost, just as I had been when Thorn took over my body.
“Not me,” I replied finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave. I don’t think he’ll let me.”
“Thorn?” she asked softly, and I found myself nodding.
I’d wondered what she thought about the man who had taken me. They hadn’t interacted much, but he seemed to treat her somewhat like a younger sister. For that I was grateful - it meant he would protect her from any harm that could come to her in the house.
“He… cares about you,” she said, and I responded with a sad smile that spoke volumes. “I can tell. The way he looks at you… he must feel very deeply about you.”
We were avoiding the elephant in the room, the ever-present question that neither of us wanted to address.
Why had Thorn taken me? And what was going to happen to Amber?
“I wish I had all the answers,” I finally said. “I wish I understood what they’re trying to do here. I don’t know why Thorn brought you here. I don’t know if you will be able to leave. And every day, I hate myself for being responsible for you being here. I’m so sorry, Amber. I truly am.”
I felt tears burning my eyes, and I turned my head to the side, not wanting her to see how emotional I was feeling because of the turn of events.
“Hey,” Amber said softly. “Let’s take things one day at a time. Marchante is an incredible coach. My dancing has gotten so much better since I’ve been here.”
It was true. She connected with our new teacher and blossomed under his slightly less strict approach. I, on the other hand, missed Madame more than I ever thought I would.
She’d always been especially strict with me, but now that I was training with someone else, I found myself wishing I’d been more grateful when I’d had the chance to work with her. I knew she wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I felt powerful under her strict approach; it suited me. I struggled to find the same connection with Marchante, a kind older man who never went too hard on me. But Amber loved it.
A sudden desire to get away from everything overtook me, and I glanced around the room to make sure we were alone. The door to the new dancing studio was left ajar, but I ignored it, leaning over to Amber to whisper in her ear.
“I want to leave,” I told her. “I want to get away from here. I want to go back to my life in London. I don’t want to stay here forever. Are you with me?”
She gave me a surprised look as I squeezed her hand, needing her to agree with my plan. My eyes begged her to respond, and her own danced over my gaze, trying to decipher if I was being serious.
“Get out of here?” she whispered. “Go back to London?”
I nodded.
“But we have everything here…” she went on. “Do you really remember London? Do you remember the dreary weather? How poor we were? We could barely pay for our food.”
“But there were opportunities,” I insisted. “The chance to become someone… To be a dancer. To go to auditions. To dance!”
“We can dance here,” Amber said softly. “You dance for Thorn, don’t you?”
I blinked away the tears. She didn’t understand. I pulled my hand away, but the moment I did, she grabbed it back and looked into my eyes.
“I’ll come with you,” she said softly. “I’ll do what you need me to do. I’m always here for you.”
I nodded, feeling more emotional than ever.
“You’re a good friend,” I told Amber, and we exchanged heartfelt smiles before finally changing into our regular clothes.
I didn’t want to tell her the truth. The truth that I wanted to run away, because I wasn’t only worried about myself - I was worried about her, too, convinced she’d be sold or worse if we stayed at the Mansion.
I wasn’t going to run because I was selfish.
I was going to run, because I wanted to protect us both.
Chapter 3
Rose
We were having dinner, sitting in the dining room with two maids serving us then standing off to the side, ready to give us anything we wanted. I glanced at them curiously, just like I always did, still not completely understanding what their story was, but I was too scared to ask Thorn, because I didn’t want to know the awful truth. They were prisoners, just like me. But unlike me, they’d been hurt permanently, their tongues cut out and their bodies maimed for a reason I didn’t want to learn.
I glanced at Thorn, wondering how a man so beautiful could be so cruel. I didn’t want to know the answer to that question, either.
“Eat,” he growled at me, never taking his eyes off the plate.
I glanced at my own steak, blood pooling under the meat. I’d lost my appetite, so I pushed the plate away.
“I can’t,” I whispered, and he glanced at me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and I shook my head uselessly, unable to answer him.
What was I supposed to tell him? Surely he knew what the problem was, that I wanted my freedom back, that I was desperate to go back to the life I knew and stop living as a prisoner. Something he would never give me.
“You will tell me,” he said, and I looked up at him again. His eyes were thunderous, demanding answers. “You will tell me what the problem is right now.”
I bit my bottom lip, trying to decide between lying and giving him the truth, which would only make him angrier.
He pushed his own plate away, and the maids scurried closer, cleaning up after us as I sat there feeling useless and dejected.
“Now,” he said, and I swallowed thickly, knowing I’d better give him what he wanted or I’d be hurt again.
“I want to go home,” I whispered. “I want to leave.”
I could feel the anger coming off him in waves, but he didn’t say a word; instead, he got up from the table and buttoned his suit jacket as he came to stand close to me. The maids h
ad cleared the table and now stood off to the side, but he paid them no mind as he grabbed my hair and made me stand up, dragging me by my hair and making me cry out in pain.
He twisted me in his arms and threw me on the dining table, my back exposed in the evening dress he’d picked me to wear for him.
“Pull your dress up,” he growled at me, and my fingers shook as I reached for the hem and slowly pulled up, revealing my naked thighs.
Nervously, I looked at the maids standing off to the side.
“I don’t want them to watch,” I whispered, and he chuckled at me.
“Do I look like I give a shit about what you want?” he asked, and my skin prickled at the severity of his voice.
“I can’t seem to keep my hands off you,” he muttered in my ear.
I squirmed against the table beneath me, my legs shaking as they always did when he was near me. He forced himself between them, putting a hand under my head and propping me up gently, getting me ready for his kiss. I opened my mouth, because it was the thing I always did. I submitted to him… giving him whatever he wanted when he asked for it. I couldn’t help myself. I’d realized months ago that being this stranger’s plaything gave me everything I needed, and as hard as I tried to fight the feeling of wanting to let go, I never seemed to succeed.
“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked next, his breath hot against my neck. “Do you want me to fuck you in front of all of them?”
My eyes darted to the silent maids surrounding us. One of them kept her gaze focused straight ahead while the other was obviously trying not to stare at us. What was I supposed to tell him? Of course I wanted it, but not in front of them. I wanted it to be in front of Pia.
I was jealous of her, undeniably jealous of her relationship with the man who owned me. I still didn’t know or understand every detail, but I was determined to find out exactly what happened between them.
“Answer me, Rose,” he growled. “Tell me what you want.”
I floated back into the moment and focused my eyes on his as I forced his hand between my legs, holding my panties in a fist above my pussy.
“Rip them off,” I asked, and he obliged, getting rid of the flimsy fabric with a single pull.
He tossed them to the floor, leaving me naked and exposed to him, more ready than I’d ever been. I didn’t care who watched or who didn’t. I just wanted him to take what had belonged to him the entire time.
“Do you want to be fucked?” he asked, his voice low and raspy.
I moaned in response, and in seconds, his fingers filled me. I saw one of the maids raise a hand to her lips as he inserted three fingers inside me, filling me up and making me squeal with the sensation. I needed so much more, yet I knew this was the game we were playing now - taunting each other, trying to see which one of us would break first. Give into our most carnal desires and come for the other, but not before pledging ourselves to them.
“Do you?” he repeated, the hint of a chuckle ever present in his voice. “I bet you do, my slut. I bet you’re desperate to be filled with my cock… Look at you, you’re almost coming from three fingers. Just imagine what my dick’s going to do to that tight little cunt of yours.”
“Please,” I breathed. “Send them out.”
I wouldn’t give into him in front of the maids. I wanted to keep my last shred of dignity, but the moment he realized it, he knew he had an ace up his sleeve.
“You feel shy all of a sudden?” he asked roughly. “Don’t want to come in front of them?”
He curled his fingers up inside me, and my body sparked with pleasure.
“No,” I breathed desperately. “Just with you… Just with you, Thorn.”
“Just with me?” His voice was gentle now, gentle and caring. “You just wanna come with me, don’t you, Rose?”
I nodded, and he groaned when I lifted my hips, grinding them against his wrist. I didn’t care who watched anymore. I wanted to get off with him, and I would’ve done anything, no matter who was there, to get the orgasm he was trying to keep out of my reach.
“Get the fuck out,” Thorn growled, and when nobody moved, he repeated it louder, practically screaming. “OUT! Right the fuck now!”
I was too focused on him to look over my shoulder, but I could hear the maids scurrying away, running out of the room as if the whole space was on fire. A second after I heard the doors slam closed, he grabbed me, his arm supporting me from my ass to my head, and lifted me to his body, my hungry lips finding him and drinking from his mouth, kissing him drunkenly, begging for shameful things I had no right wanting.
“Please, Thorn,” I begged. “Please, I want to be your only one, your only girl, the only one you fuck, the only one you care for…”
“You are,” he said back, his mouth trying to devour mine. “You are my fucking only one, my Rose, my forever Rose…”
I took a deep breath while he unzipped his trousers, and in seconds, my back was slammed against the table as he lowered himself over my body. I looked down to where we were about to become one, staring at his bulging cock dripping with precum for me.
“Tell me you want it inside,” he told me in a low snarl. “Tell me you want my cock in that pussy. Tell me who you belong to.”
“I want it,” I whispered, my eyes fluttering to his. He looked at me with such intensity I wanted to drop to my knees in front of him and beg him to take me, to keep me. “I belong to you…”
“Say it properly,” he grunted, positioning his tip over my entrance and never taking his eyes off mine. “Say it properly, Rose. Tell me you’re my property.”
“I’m yours,” I said. “I’m your property, your possession, you can do whatever you want with me, I’ll do everything, anything you tell me to…”
“Anything?” he asked softly, his eyes sparkling with dark intent as he looked down at me.
The torture he was putting me through was almost enough to make me lose my mind, and I shook with anticipation, my pussy dripping all over the dining table as I waited for him, desperate, needy and ashamed.
“Anything,” I promised, and he sank himself inside me.
I tried to moan, but his hand was over my mouth in seconds, shutting me up as he took from my body.
“You will give me everything,” he said; not a question but a statement instead. “You will give yourself to me completely. No more of this fucking holding back. You will let me have everything. Let me make every decision. Own every bit of you. Nod if you understand.”
I nodded, a single movement of my head followed by a tear sliding down my cheek. I was on the verge already with his throbbing cock resting inside me and pulsating with the need to fuck me. Before I’d met Thorn I’d never known pleasure like this existed and never knew how desperate for more he would make me. I truly would have done anything for him at that moment, but we both knew he’d have to think of something more permanent. I’d promise him anything, but the second we stopped touching, I’d retreat back inside my shell, just like I always did.
With his trousers around his ankles, he reached into his suit and drew out a small jeweled plug. I stared at him with wide eyes as he presented it to me.
“Better get it wet,” he told me. “Don’t want it to hurt too badly.”
He positioned it in front of my lips, and I sucked it into my mouth. More tears were falling now, because he wasn’t giving me what we both needed. His cock was throbbing painfully inside me. He needed the release as badly as I did, yet he was stalling; I didn’t understand why.
“Put it in,” I said hoarsely. “Just put it in.”
He touched the plug to my asshole, and I twisted my arms, squirming underneath him. I wasn’t trying to get away, not really. I was desperate for him to do it. Then he did, easing the plug in slowly and twisting it the whole way through until it eased itself inside, popping into place and making me catch my breath.
“Rose,” he breathed. “Stop holding back.”
My nails dug into his forearms, and I begged with m
y eyes when it seemed like I’d lost my voice.
“P-please fuck me,” I whispered, and he let out a growl as if it was physically hard for him to be holding back. “Please, Thorn! No more, please, just let me have you…”
With a long, painful thrust, he pushed deeper inside me, and I moaned at the sensation. His fingers twirled the toy in my ass, and I felt my orgasm building up as he lowered his face to mine, his expression that of a predator. I was afraid of him yet so unbelievably turned on that it didn’t even matter anymore. All I wanted, all I needed, was his cock filling me up and his cum spurting inside me.
“You’ll let go,” he told me gruffly. “Eventually I’m going to break you, Rose… And you’re going to fucking love it, you filthy little slut.”
I arched my back against him and felt my pussy spasming, desperate to milk his orgasm from his cock, desperate for so much more than he was ready to give me. But I wasn’t letting go, and I wasn’t giving up. I would keep working him until I finally got what I wanted.
“Stop fighting it,” he growled at me, and the depth of his voice worked like a charm.
I found myself desperate to bend to his will, needing to give him exactly what he wanted. I twisted and turned under his body, but he wasn’t letting go. He started fucking me like a beast, pounding inside me with thrusts so powerful they made me cry out from the sensation of being taken, of being fucked. Just like always, I found myself succumbing to his power. It always happened this way - like we were destined to play a never-ending game of wits. And he was winning this time around, plainly obvious by the way my body submitted. I barely even recognized my own voice as I begged him to go on, to keep hurting me and keep fucking the body that had stopped being my own a long time ago. I belonged to him.
“I’m never letting you leave,” he rasped, and I blinked back the tears and bit my bottom lip as I felt my orgasm building up, desperate to rip itself from my body and plunge me into pleasure I’d come to know so well and crave every second it wasn’t being given to me.
