Trust

by Terry Towers

  I bristled up, jutting my chin out. Considering everything that was going on right now, being told I suck at giving head seemed trivial, but for some reason it pissed me off. “Excuse me, but having your father ram his dick in my mouth doesn’t give me much incentive to do well.”

  “You’re going to have to learn to endure, 342, and learn how to pretend to enjoy it. If you want to live then that’s a necessity.”

  “My name is Gwen.” Where this rebellion was coming from I didn’t know. Perhaps it was because he was letting me get away with it. I was like a puppy testing its boundaries with new owners. Or perhaps it was because deep down I knew this may be the last time I would be able to give any type of defiance.

  To my surprise he laughed. “From what I’m told the past few days you’ve been quiet and obedient. Why am I getting the privilege of your attitude?”

  “Just lucky I guess.”

  My eyes narrowed at him. Was this a game? Was he pretending to be somewhat friendly so I’d let my guard down? I’d read about situations like that before; the captor would act like they were doing the captive a favour by being somewhat friendly so the captive would be brainwashed into thinking they were a good person and be more compliant, eager even, to please them. Was that the case here?

  “Why are you being nice to me?”

  Humour danced in his eyes. “You’re locked in a room with me, naked and a few minutes from getting your first lesson on how to suck cock. If you consider that nice then I’m beginning to think you’ve been involved in some seriously fucked-up relationships.”

  “I mean, you seem different than the rest. Is it because I’m your first?”

  A roar of laughter erupted from him. “An interesting way of saying it, but yes, I usually don’t get involved with the training process.”

  “Why not? I would think that would be the most enjoyable part.”

  “Considering, as you put it, you’re my first, I can’t say either way. Perhaps I’ll let you know after the session.”

  He stood, set the chair off to the side and began to walk over to the bed. My body froze. Not yet, I’m not ready to be trained. I glanced at the locked door, contemplating escape. If I took them by surprise maybe I could get… I stopped the train of thought in its tracks. If I even got out of the room, I’d be lucky to make it a few feet before being tackled like at the doctor’s office.

  His hand reached out and cupped my chin, forcing my eyes back to meet his, and I trembled at his touch, flinching out of his grasp. His expression darkened, displeased with my reaction. “Your attention is to be on me at all times, are we clear, slave?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He grabbed my chin again, forcing my eyes to him. “And you’re not to tremble at my touch in fear. The only trembling is in pleasure.”

  Easy for him to say!

  “Are we clear?”

  “I can’t help being scared. Only a crazy person wouldn’t be.”

  “Have I done anything to make you fear me?”

  “Not yet.”

  His jaw clenched. He released my chin and ran his index finger lightly along the side of my neck, across my collarbone and down the valley between my breasts. A shiver ran down my spine and my breath hitched in my throat.

  Of all the people at the compound who could be touching me right now I could do a lot worse than Lance, I tried to reason with myself, then became disgusted at myself for sitting there rationalizing that if I were going to get raped at least it was with a “nice,” hot, rapist.

  His eyes left mine and lazily drifted down my body and back up again. “You had a boyfriend before?”

  I nodded.

  “And what did you do with him?”

  “Lance?”

  “Sexually,” he clarified. “I need to know what I’m working with.”

  I could feel the heat creeping up my neck and burning my cheeks. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t answer. Couldn’t he just get it over with? Why did he feel the need to humiliate me with intimate questions?

  “I… I’m not comfortable…”

  He knelt down so his eyes were at level with mine. “You’ll answer whatever questions I ask of you. Every part of you is mine to do with as I please: mind, body and soul. Don’t forget that, so you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Modesty will only make this more difficult on both of us.”

  “I was saving myself for graduation, but I don’t think I wanted to give my virginity to him. I want to be in love with the person…” My face grew warm again and another bout of tears threatened to fill my eyes. I saved myself for nothing, so some stranger could use and force himself on me.

  Hooking his finger under my chin, he lifted my eyes to meet his. For a brief second I thought I saw a hint of compassion in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “That’s not your life anymore; the quicker you accept that the easier it’ll get. Now answer the question. What have you done with him?”

  To accept it would mean I was giving up hope of having my freedom again and I wasn’t ready for that yet. After a moment I answered, “I gave him blow jobs and hand jobs.”

  “Have you ever had your pussy licked?”

  I lowered my gaze. Why did he have to be so crass? He was wrong, he could still embarrass me and I doubted this would get easier. I supposed maybe that was a good thing, it meant I still had a bit of dignity left. I had to remember that.

  Without warning he gave me a push backward, grabbed my thighs and pulled me toward him until my bottom was on the edge of the bed, my legs spread on either side of his shoulders and his upper body settled between my legs. I attempted to wiggle away from him, but with impressive speed he stood and positioned himself over me, between my legs, grabbing my two wrists in one of his large hands and pinning them above my head. The deep spicy smell of his cologne drifted to my nose and I hated that I liked it and that it drew me into him. I didn’t want to like a thing about him, not his cologne, not his smile and sure as hell not the feel of his body covering mine.

  I continued to squirm and buck under him, attempting to free myself, but he was bigger and stronger and he easily contained me. As I squirmed under him, his erection swelled, the ridge of his cock pressing against my pelvis. I fought until I was breathless and panting hard under his heavy body. Tears of frustration sprang up in my eyes. I closed them and turned my head to the side, not wanting him to see my anguish.

  “Are you done?” His tone was that of an annoyed parent talking to an unruly child and only upset me further.

  “Fuck you!” Despite my words, my fight had exhausted me and all I could do was lie limp under him.

  While his body remained over mine, the weight lifted slightly and to my displeasure he began to chuckle. Angry, I turned my face and glared up at him with tear-filled eyes. The sadistic bastard found this funny.

  He stopped laughing, but a smile remained on his lips. Damn, I hated how handsome he was and how sexy his smile made him look. Men this evil didn’t deserve to be so beautiful.

  “Are you done?” he repeated.

  I wanted to fight some more, but knew there was nowhere to go. Ultimately he’d win. “Yes, Master.” Despite my words I couldn’t help but glare up at him.

  “There’s one thing you need to understand and the sooner you understand it the easier this will be: In this place, I’m the best friend you have.”

  “I don’t need friends like you!”

  Releasing my hands, he planted a hand on either side of my head, lifting the majority of his weight from my body, allowing me to breathe easier. “The idiots said you were docile. But you can’t fool me for a second. I know what you’re doing.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re hoping that if you play along, they’ll let down their guard and you’ll eventually get a chance of escape.”

  I attempted to keep my expression blank, but knew my eyes were betraying me. How foolish of me to think I could outsmart them. Something else to add to
my recent list of stupid decisions – it was right up there with not letting Brandon drive me home.

  His expression grew gravely serious as his gaze caught mine. “I need you to listen very, very closely to me Gwen, and you need to trust what I’m saying to you.”

  “Why should I trust you? So you’re not going to make me suck your cock? You’re not going to touch me against my will?”

  “I wish I could say no to those questions, but I can’t. I have a job to do here. Emotion doesn’t factor in. But I am going to say this once and only once. There’s no escaping the compound, Gwen, if you attempt to escape you will be killed, or worse.”

  “There’s something worse than death?”

  He nodded, his expression growing dark, and a chill rushed through me. “There’s a lot worse.”

  “Then do me the favour and kill me now and get it over with!” I only half meant it. Maybe Becca was right. If this was as good as it got then maybe continuing to live wasn’t such a great option. We stared into each other’s eyes and I watched his eyes turn dark with anger and frustration as his jaw clenched.

  “God dammit woman!” He slipped off of me and stood at the edge of the bed, glaring down at me. I had to force myself to keep from cringing. Suddenly he turned from me and stormed to the door. “My men will take you back to your cell.” Unlocking the door, he yanked it open and exited without another look in my direction.

  Chapter 5

  Lance

  There’s no better way to see what a person is all about than to take their freedom and see how they cope. I’ve narrowed reactions to captivity into three reactions: those who accept, those who fight and those who plot.

  The most common are the accepters, the women who when facing their captives cower. They spend their days crying and asking God what they did to deserve what happened to them and beg for mercy from captors, but mercy doesn’t exist here. These are the women we love and the easiest to turn into the perfect slave.

  Then there are the fighters, women who go into immediate fight mode; they battle every step of the way, even if it means they’ll be hurt in the process. Turning fighters into perfect submissive slaves is next to impossible because their will is so strong, they tend to go insane before becoming submissive. For them there are usually only two outcomes to being enslaved, they go insane or die – although the ones who have mental breaks are “put down” since they’re useless to us, so I suppose there’s only one outcome for these women … death.

  And then there is the final type, the plotters. These women are hard to come by, but when we do they’re the most challenging to deal with. They pretend to be what we expect, they play the game to perfection, all the while their minds attempt to be one step ahead of us. They’re deceptive, they’re smart and they’re nearly impossible to anticipate, aside from being predictably unpredictable – they’re dangerous both to their captors and themselves.

  It had only taken me one fifteen-minute session with her to know Gwen was a plotter. I also knew she was going to get herself killed, not intentionally mind you, but that would be the end result. She was going to play her role and make an escape the first chance she got and likely be killed in the process. I needed her to see that escape wasn’t an option, because to remove such a beautifully unique creature from the world would be a travesty. But then again, would death be worse than having such a wonderful spirit beaten down into a shell of herself?

  Neither outcome appealed to me. I wanted her just the way she was; not broken, not a shell of herself and certainly not tossed into a hole in the ground. I simply wanted her. These feelings were going to put everything I had planned in jeopardy. If I were smart I’d pass her off to someone else, and forget about her. However, the thought of one of those other monsters touching her filled me with rage. I barely knew her, but as far as I was concerned she was mine and God help anyone who hurt her.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Gwen

  “Who’s your trainer?” Becca asked as she scarfed down her meal. I thought it was supposed to be chicken, but no one could say for sure. It was presumably the day after my first “training session.”

  “Lance,” I answered between bites.

  Becca stopped eating and gave me an astonished stare. “The son?”

  I nodded.

  “What did he do to you?”

  I shrugged, tearing at the piece of white meat with my teeth. After swallowing the bite I answered. “Nothing. We talked and…”

  Losing all interest in her meal, Becca’s mouth dropped open. After a moment she snapped it shut. “Talked? That’s it?”

  The memory of how he felt between my legs came to mind, but I pushed it back. “I guess. Wasn’t much of a conversation. He said I’m going up for auction in a week.”

  She frowned. “I’m so sorry, girl.”

  “What’s his deal?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. We normally don’t see him. Tanner does a lot of the training. I– ” her voice cut off at the sound of voices coming from the hallway. Dinnertime was over already? We’d just gotten our meal trays. There was no way time went by that quickly.

  We all reluctantly, but with haste placed our trays at the fronts of the cells and took our positions on our cots. The click of the lock disengaging rang through the room and the door swung open to display Tanner, followed by Jazz and then the blonde guard - Connor.

  Tanner walked into the room and to the center. “Slaves! I need your attention please.”

  I lifted my eyes and met Becca’s stare. I could tell she had the same thought, “What in the fuck is going on?” Tanner wasn’t one for making speeches.

  “Now!” The anger was so evident in his voice we all cringed in unison as our eyes lifted to look at him. Once he was satisfied we were all being attentive he walked over to the severely beaten Asian girl. Opening her cell, he grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her from the cell. She was so weak she stumbled and fell to her knees at his feet. She hadn’t eaten for two days and had been using her toilet paper to wallpaper her cell – used and clean.

  Grabbing her by the hair, he pulled her screaming body to the center of the room and pulled her up to her knees. “I think we need a little demonstration on how serious we are here about obedience.” He pointed at me, then Becca and went around the room until he’d pointed at us all. “You are all disposable commodities – there’s a million more young bitches where you all came from.”

  I frowned as a sinking feeling came over me. I chanced a glance over at Becca again, but her eyes were glued to the Asian girl. Several of the women began to whimper; one began crying.

  With one swift movement Tanner pulled a six-inch blade from the holder attached to his belt and placed it at the woman’s neck. Sensing what was coming next the Asian girl began screaming, kicking and lashing out at him, but his strength seriously overpowered her. Because of her squirming she only accomplished nicking herself with the blade several times, but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued her frantic attempted escape.

  Without another word, Tanner brought the blade across her neck, slicing it open. Blood squirted from the cut and a low gurgling sound emerged from her. I was so horrified all I could do was curl my knees up to my chest as my mouth dropped wide open.

  Screams of terror and wails of dismay echoed throughout the dungeon as the women’s minds began to process the horror before them. But I couldn’t move. I was still frozen, my eyes wide as the concrete floor at Tanner’s feet became covered in the sticky red substance.

  Tanner smirked. “Any questions?” The sadistic bastard hadn’t even blinked an eye. Not a bit of hesitation.

  Silence overtook the room except for the occasional sniff and heavy breathing as the women attempted to control their emotions.

  Tanner pointed the bloody blade at me and then at Becca. “Once my men remove this useless bitch, you and you will be cleaning up the mess.” He jerked his head toward the cell filled with toilet paper. “And that, and I don’t want to see a speck of red
on this floor when you’re both done. Am I clear?”

  I nodded my head, assuming Becca was doing the same.

  Tanner dropped the girl’s limp body to the floor, turned on his heel and exited the room followed by Jazz and Connor, leaving us alone staring in horror at the dead girl whose body was lying in an increasingly large puddle of blood. With the men gone, chaos broke out among the remaining women. Screams, cries, whimpers sounded throughout the room, all feeding into each other, intensifying the emotions.

  “I don’t think I can clean that,” I whispered to Becca, doing my best to keep hold of myself. I can’t lose myself now, I just can’t. I tried not to think that it was a dead person lying on the floor looking at me with lifeless eyes.

  “We don’t get the option to say no.”

  Jazz and Connor returned with a black tarp, grabbed the woman and tossed her onto it, then wrapped her tight and exited, carrying her over their shoulders. With the body gone the women, myself and Becca included, begin to calm and take our spots on our cots, waiting for the Masters to return.

  When they returned they were carrying mops, buckets of hot water and a load of sponges and cleaners. Once the supplies were tossed onto the floor next to the mess, Jazz unlocked my cell and motioned for me to exit, followed by Becca.

  “Get to work!” Jazz gave me a push at the small of my back and I stumbled forward, tripping and falling into the still-warm tacky liquid. The emotions became too much and a wail erupted from me, a sound so foreign I was left wondering where the God-awful sound came from as I scrambled to get away from the horrifying mess.

  Becca fell to her knees beside me and handed me a damp sponge, then proceeded to begin the cleanup.

  “Hurry up! Stupid bitch.”

  A jab of pain rocked through me as the toe of Jazz’s steel-toed boot came in contact with my side. I screamed out again, falling forward, once again into the bloody mess.

  “Shut up you fucking whore –”