Nobody's Perfect

by Kallypso Masters

  "Wait! You can't just leave me here like this!"

  Damián turned and glared at the shithead. "The only difference between my leaving you here like this and what you did to Savannah in that hotel is that I haven't left you alone with two sadists."

  Damián glanced at the drill, then back at Cabron. "But if I have time—or Savannah's been hurt—I'll be back to show you how a sadist like me makes someone scream."

  The man's eyes opened wider, and he shook his head. Again, Damián started for the door but turned once more as he waited for Dad to exit ahead of him. The bastard was staring in horror at the small bloodstain on his pants leg. Damián knew the wound was superficial, but Cabron didn't seem to realize that. Good. Let him worry a while. Damián left the room.

  As they rushed toward the front door, adrenaline pumping, Damián asked, "If I don't make it back, promise me you'll let him fucking rot tied to that chair."

  Dad nodded as he removed his mask. "Consider it done."

  They ran across the flagstones in front of the mansion, and he thought about how Savi's screams for help over many, many years of torture and abuse had gone unheeded in this fucking place. Damián's gut twisted thinking about how he'd brought Savannah home to this torture chamber that night. He'd had no idea what awaited her.

  Before they'd gotten twenty feet from the house, Cabron began to scream for help. He'd be hoarse within an hour at this rate. That pussy could scream his fucking brains out and no one would hear him; the nearest neighbor was nowhere in sight.

  Damián and Dad raced back to where Marc and Grant stood guard near the gate, Marc waiting to administer first aid to Savi, if needed, and Grant to monitor communications.

  Marc glanced at the blood on Damián's vest. "Do I need to administer aid to anyone?"

  "Not yet, Doc."

  Without another word, they packed up Grant's gear and the four of them power-hiked back to the rented SUV parked about a block away from the gates of the estate.

  With Damián behind the wheel, Dad programmed the coordinates into his GPS. He flung the phone outside the window to avoid being traced in case anyone had a tracking app connected to the number. Only Cabron knew where they were headed, and he wouldn't be talking to anyone anytime soon.

  Damián still couldn't believe he'd thought Savannah had lived a spoiled existence back in the exclusive Rancho house. Guess you can't judge a real home by its price tag. Damián had grown up in a tiny bungalow in the shadows of Rancho, with parents who worked for the wealthy bastards up here. He'd been loved.

  Savannah hadn't had that. She'd…

  Dad put a hand on Damián's shoulder, pulling him back from his thoughts. "I said we'll stop outside Rimrock and change into our desert digitals."

  "Roger that."

  Hang on, bebé. I'm coming for you.

  * * *

  Savi's temples throbbed. How long would this scene last? She'd lost her focus. What was the goal this time? Damián hadn't told her. He sometimes wanted to teach her patience, discipline, and to get her to anticipate.

  She didn't have a good feeling about this one. She went to rub the pain away from her temples, but her hands were stretched above her head and wouldn't budge. Her legs were spread open, also restrained.

  Safeword, Savi.

  She needed to speak her safeword. She opened her dry lips to speak, but something hard obstructed her mouth, compressing her tongue. He'd never gagged her before. She'd seen subs with ball gags strapped to their faces in the great room at the club, but he'd said she wasn't ready for that and it would serve no purpose in her training right now

  Her eyes fluttered open. Darkness. Blindfolded.

  Whatever was tied around her head dug into her eye sockets. Panic rose in her chest. Why had he restrained and gagged her? Silence. He'd promised he'd keep her safe, never to leave her alone like this, but…

  Damián wouldn't lie to her. Damián hadn't done this.

  Breathing.

  She heard him…

  "You know it excites me to watch you struggle, Savannah, especially when we both know you've escaped from me for the last time."

  Needles of fear stabbed at her stomach. Not Damián! She hadn't heard that voice since she was nineteen. Father! How had he…?

  Mari! Oh, God. Where was her baby?

  Savi jerked against the arm and leg restraints and bit into the ball gag, tasting the latex, but she wasn't able to remove either.

  "Your body isn't so different from when you were a teenager. I’m glad you stayed skinny for me."

  No! She hadn't stayed thin for him, but to keep molesters away from her.

  "Remember the pleasure only I could make you feel?"

  Involuntary reponses. Damián gives me pleasure, he doesn't force it.

  She fought against the bindings, but her impotent struggles soon exhausted her. So weak. She had to have been drugged. How long had she been unconscious?

  Where was Mari? She needed to get to her baby and hold her. Comfort her. She must be scared to death. Savi had lived that fear around her father daily from the time she was eight until she'd escaped at nineteen. She never wanted her own daughter to experience it. Tears stung the backs of her eyes.

  And where was Lyle? Please, God, don't let him be with Mari. He'd been the one to inflict the most heinous of the torture on Savannah, including the branding.

  Why had Savi let her guard down? How had they found her? She was supposed to protect her daughter, but she'd failed once more. What about the guards Damián and Adam had arranged for?

  Damián, I need you.

  "When Lyle brought you to me, the first thing I checked was to see if you still carried my brand. It pleases me that you want my mark on you, that you still understand you are my slut."

  Her shame.

  Oh, God, no! Her father was the one who bore the weight of all the shame. Savi would no longer own that emotion.

  She had altered the brand. Her body, the brand, all belonged to Damián.

  Her father's clammy hand squeezed her nipple, which became engorged. Oh, God. Don't let my body respond to him again.

  Involuntary. It didn't mean anything. She relaxed and separated her mind from what he was doing to her body, not letting his touch affect her in any way.

  Slap!

  Her head jerked, intensifying the pounding in her temples. His palm left her cheek burning.

  "Ah, I see I have your attention. Tune me out again, Savannah, if you want me to place more of my marks on you—more marks you'll wear for the rest of your life, which could be a substantial number of years, if you continue to please me."

  Was this another mind game? Blame her for his perversions, then kill her when he tired of her? Could new scars be any worse than the mental anguish he'd inflicted, the pain she would always suffer?

  She'd entrusted her body to Damián's care and training, and he'd accepted her as she was. She only wanted Damián's marks on her—marks of love.

  Love. Yes, she knew Damián loved her. She wished she'd been able to lower her guard enough to surrender her heart to him before her father…

  Failure.

  Slap!

  Father slapped her other cheek. She groaned.

  "That's it, Savannah. Father will give you what you want now. We'll begin with the whip, then I have a special treat, one of your favorites, because I know how long you've waited for me to give you what you want."

  Fear clawed at her throat. He wouldn't respect her limits as Damián would.

  "You wanted me to find you and bring you home, didn't you, Savannah? Why else would you run to that Spic? Once I realized it was his sister's house I'd seen you at in the news coverage, I remembered my former employee. I can't tell you how many times I'd watched that touching video of you two together. He must not be able to get it up if he didn't have sex with a dirty slut like you while he had the chance. You're nothing but a dirty slut—and dirty sluts have to be punished by their loving Masters."

  Yes. Keep him busy with me. She pra
yed that God would keep Mari safe in the meantime, until she escaped or Damián freed her. Blindfolded, she had no idea in which room she was being held, but Damián knew where her father lived. He would know to track them here. Soon, she hoped. The longer they were held captive, the more chances something awful would happen to Mari.

  "You'll also tell me where Lyle can find your brat. He says the Mexican has her. She's my granddaughter. I want her."

  Mari wasn't here? Savi's body sagged into the mattress with relief. Oh, God, thank you. She remembered now that Lyle had been looking for her, too. Why was her head so fuzzy?

  Suddenly, she realized she couldn't feel the necklace around her neck. Had her body gone numb again? If the necklace had been removed, Damián might never find her.

  Even if Damián did find her, at what cost? Father would have tight security around his home. Damián might be hurt or killed in the process of attempting to rescue her. The thought of him suffering any further injury made her sick to her stomach. Mari couldn't lose both her parents.

  Oh, God. Savi needed to get her father to release her in order to have any chance at escape. She struggled against the restraints. Whatever bound her wrists had scratched her skin raw. She continued to struggle, numbing herself to the pain. If she could get loose, she might be able to overpower her father long enough to get away.

  "Imagine how pleased I was to see that you shaved yourself for me. You wanted to return to me all these years, didn't you, Savannah?"

  No, everything is for Damián. My body will never belong to you again.

  As long as the ball gag was in place, he didn't require her to respond.

  "Lyle tells me the Mexican is a sadist at a club in Denver. I see you fully embraced your natural role as a pain slut. I know a dirty slut like you needs to suffer pain often. I let you enjoy some time with my clients, Savannah, but they must not have given you what you needed, if you ran away from them. I can satisfy you like no one else. I’m your first and only Master."

  She heard his footsteps as he crossed the room, followed by the sound of buckles clanking as he rummaged for something. "This is a good time for us to get reacquainted, as a Master and his pain slut. Time for me to give you what you crave. You must be terribly frustrated because I'm sure that Spic hasn't been able to bring you release the way I can."

  Fear threatened to overcome her. Safe place. She needed to go to her safe place.

  "First, why don’t I reward you for helping me find you? A few dozen lashes with the bullwhip might be just the thing you need to get off. I’ve missed hearing you scream as you come for me. For punishment, though, we’ll have to use the riveted leather flogger. Do you remember how these instruments made you feel, Savannah?”

  Memories of the slashing sting of the tiny metal rivets embedded in the fingers of the flogger sent a wave of panic over her. She needed to escape before he used that implement on her. Her skin would be cut to shreds.

  "Let's remove these first." The touch of his hands as he removed the gag nauseated her. "Open." She stretched her jaw as far as it would open, and he removed the slimy rubber. Her jaw wouldn't close right away, having been in this position so long.

  His hands fiddled with the knot on the blindfold and soon the fabric was moved to her forehead.

  Savi opened her eyes and blinked several times until the room came into focus. The demon's face before her had aged from the one in her nightmares. The sight of him sickened her, and she turned her head away. Looking around, this room was unfamiliar to her. Rustic. Dirty. Nothing like her father's house.

  Oh, God, no! If this wasn't her father's house, where was she?

  She looked down at her chest. The necklace was gone. Tears pricked her eyes as she lost the last bit of hope. Damián would never be able to find her.

  Her body's aching need to crawl into Damián's arms for comfort surprised her. For the first time in her life, she craved a man's touch, and the man she needed was too far away.

  How could she get back to him, where she belonged?

  "I was always a good Master, making sure my dirty little slut got off when she was being my good girl. Wasn't I, Savannah?"

  She glared at him, but remained silent.

  "You know you need to be punished for running away from your Master. You will not come until I let you come. Understand?"

  Memories of the times her father had forced orgasms from her body flooded her mind.

  He moved to where his face was inches from hers. "I asked a question, Savannah."

  Fear embedded its claws so deeply inside her, she succumbed with a whimper and nodded.

  "Good girl."

  The fight returned to her. Damián's good girl. Not yours.

  He stood up, but kept his evil gaze on her. "You know it is my responsibility as your Master to ensure you will never be able to run away again, you dirty slut.

  Dirty slut.

  No! I'm not!

  "Such pretty blue eyes. Not like your whore of a mother's eyes at all."

  Maman wasn't a whore any more than I am.

  "Your daughter's eyes are brown, like your mother's."

  Savi's skin crawled. He'd seen Mari? When? Where? He said they hadn't captured her. Were her memories confused from the drugs she'd been given or was he playing mind games?

  "You are such a good pain slut, giving birth to a pretty little gift for your Master. Don’t worry, Savannah. When I find where that Spic's hiding her, I’ll begin training her the way I trained you. She’s just the right age now; I won’t let her turn into a filthy whore like you and your mother did."

  Fear threatened to choke off her ability to breathe. Mari would turn eight in June; Savi's abuse had begun at that same age. She struggled anew against her bonds, screaming obscenities for all the sadistic things he'd done to her.

  The back of Father's hand impacted her jaw, whipping her head back.

  Wait. He didn't have Mari. Whatever breakdown there had been in security, Damián would never let it happen again. Besides, if her father came anywhere near Mari, Savi would kill him with her bare hands. Despite his vile threat, Savi felt a sense of peace come over her.

  "You know, she deserved what she got. Filthy whores don't deserve to live."

  An intense pain stabbed her temple. Was he messing with her? Had he captured Mari after all? Had he killed her? The pressure built to the point where she thought her head might explode. Her body began to shake. A blinding white flash filled the room. Suddenly, she found herself transported back to her father's house.

  Yelling. Maman and Father were fighting again. Savannah didn't like to hear them fight. Maman always wound up screaming in pain and crying for hours. Why did Father treat her so badly?

  Sometimes Savannah fantasized about running away with Maman. Today, they had been in their beach cave having a picnic, swimming, and napping. Father hadn't been there. He was always working, but that was okay. He didn't like the beach anyway. Too smelly and dirty, he said.

  Maman had asked her today if she wanted to live somewhere else. Savannah couldn't imagine living anywhere but the house she'd grown up in. Maman hadn't said where she wanted to move, but Father would never want to move. He liked living in the mansion that had once belonged to Maman's parents. When he lectured Savannah or Maman about something they'd done wrong, he called it "my" house—"You will not do that while living in my house."

  Property. Sometimes, Savannah thought Father looked at her and her mother as if they were his property, too, just like this house and the hotel he owned. He didn't take care of Maman the way he should. He made her cry. Sometimes he hit her. Maman was kind and gentle; no one should ever hurt her like that.

  Earlier today, in the cave, she and Maman talked about leaving their house. Late, in the afternoon, a strange man had joined them. Savannah didn't recognize him, but Maman did. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, with a twinkle in his eyes like Santa's. He helped Maman up from the beach blanket, and he kissed her. On the mouth.

  Savannah was so c
onfused.

  When he'd hunkered down beside Savannah, he'd smiled at her, too. Even though his eyes were kind, she'd still wanted to shrink away and hide behind Maman. He blocked the way to Maman; she'd have to get even closer to the strange man to get to her, so Savannah scooted away from them both instead.

  "It's okay, Savannah. John is my friend. He's going to help us start a new life."

  Savannah didn't want him to be in their new life. She just wanted to be with Maman. Why did Maman want to spoil their day and have him here with them?

  "Give her time, Elise. It's a lot to take in. Why don't we take a walk on the beach? There are some changes in the plan I need to run by you."

  Maman turned to her. "Savannah, why don't you stretch out on the blanket and take your nap."

  Maman didn't want her. Savannah watched as the man took Maman by the hand and they left the cave, leaving Savannah alone. The warmth left the cave with them, and Savannah began to shiver, then cry.

  When she woke later, they were just returning to the cave. The sun was setting. Somehow, Savannah knew this would be the last time she'd get to come to the beach cave just with Maman. She blinked away a tear…

  Savi blinked. The cave. She was transported back to the day Savannah and Damián were there. The sunset had mesmerized her at the end of that perfect day. It had been the last time she'd gone to the cave with Damián, too.

  The distant past pulled at her again, and Savi felt herself transported into Savannah's bedroom. Was it the same day? She thought so, but time was all mixed up in her head. She couldn't remember most of her childhood.

  "You can't stop me, George. I've put up with your abuse long enough. Savannah and I are leaving."

  The sharp crack sounded like a slap. Savannah flinched. Maman screamed.

  She scrambled up from the bed. Savannah needed to go help her.

  "You filthy whore."

  Savannah didn't know what the word whore meant, but the way her father said it, she knew it was a bad thing. Her bare feet quickly grew cold on the tiled floors of the hallway. Her parents' bedroom door wasn't closed all the way. She heard a sound she couldn't recognize, that of her mother trying to catch her breath.