At least if he bought her then Iris wouldn’t have been sold into sexual slavery. But he consoled himself with a handful of Jaden and the thought that he would be able to save all of these women and dozens more if he stayed the course he was on. For him, a plan was worth a man’s weight in gold. It could make the most chaotic situations into something humanly manageable.
The men who were making these purchases of human life were little more than monsters. He wanted to throw every last one of the men in prison. Or better yet, toss the lot of them under the damn jail and let them experience the tortures they so sanguinely thrust upon another human being. Hopefully, they could get their stay at Club Fed sponsored by a man with a huge dick named Dee Bo.
The first woman sold after protracted bidding, and then the second and third women were nowhere near as spirited as the first. They took much less time to come off of the block. The second woman sold was a blonde in her midtwenties who was so doped up that she nodded the entire time on stage. Blondie, now called Azalea, was only sold for half of what the first one went for. Even then, she finally received a healthy-sized bid after she was fitted with an anal plug that she took easily and without hesitation. The third woman was timid, and he knew she was petrified as well, but she was sold as well after she screamed for mercy during her whipping.
After that point the rest of the women were disposed of quickly, but they were whores bartered from a German brothel. For those women, they had sold themselves to the whorehouse in exchange for a life of servitude, and when they outlived their usefulness as prostitutes for the dominants, there were traded off to the cartel in exchange for credits against fresh stock to corrupt.
Jonah sat his remote down as he stood behind Jaden and used one hand at her throat to pull her back into his body. The other hand was used to capture her waist before he snaked the fingers between her thighs. When she was close enough to feel his cock at the ready, he asked her what he was dying to know.
“What is it?”
“This house was designed by the man who did Jourdain’s.” Jaden was on the same page. Her answer was so certain, no hesitation wavered her voice. The words were a whisper, and she had ducked her head low as if she were shy as she spoke them.
“Ahh.” He knew exactly what she meant.
But he never personally saw the schematics, as she had destroyed them during her preplanning of the assassination. The layout did seem familiar to the one Jourdain had when he had walked through the structure. The knowledge was enough to make him glad about bringing Jaden onto this job. She would know what was where in most cases and the best places for cover or ambush, as she had already combed through a similar layout. He would hope the owner had grown sloppy enough that there were minimal changes over the years. Hopefully there would have been no reason to do so, as there was no danger before of raids by the local government.
This could be the best piece of chance luck to fall on them. But he would have to see where the chips fell before the knowledge could be capitalized on. He took the time to rub over Jaden’s wrists and feet before the performance. No sooner than he finished with the heel of her left foot did he feel a displacement of air and a barely there snick of the door being opened.
The crew-cut guy was back.
“You seem to give that slave a lot of kindness. Too bad for her that you brought her here.” The words were no sooner spoken than Jonah stood. He wouldn’t grace the remark with a reply, but he knew the man was actually trying to be honest. This was no place to bring any woman, especially one that he loved. But he had little choice in the matter. But Jaden was one of the few women that he could be sure was capable of holding her own in this situation.
The man once again motioned for Jonah to follow him, and he let Jaden walk this time. He had no idea how any woman could walk in the stilts that Stein had provided. But Jaden did admirably. She was able to navigate with a “come fuck me” walk that had him ready to do just that.
When they finished walking half of the circuitous route around her perimeter, their path began to spiral toward the center, and he saw the stage where he and Jaden would be the entertainment. There were several women in a line behind the curtains and a theatre-style setting just to the front of the platform.
The crew-cut man handed Jonah an envelope. “These are your instructions.” Jonah took the perfectly creased handmade paper in his hands. Jaden prostrated herself directly before him, now in the slave pose as she had been well trained to do.
“Good girl.” It was what was expected of him, and he read the harsh words from the soft printed pages. When he finished reading the hastily printed script, he swore.
I want to see breath play tonight and a good fight from your submissive
What the fuck was wrong with the man that wrote this? Jonah thought, even as he tried in vain to think of a way to keep from having to perform these acts. He definitely wasn’t into rape, and he didn’t want to murder Jaden by ineptly controlling her breathing either.
He didn’t even look down until she spoke. Her tone was hesitant, as if she didn’t know how to phrase what she really wanted to know circumspectly. “Master, may I have permission to speak?”
“Yes, you may.”
“What services will my Master require this evening?”
“It seems we have been requested to put on an unusual show today. It will feature breath play and the appearance of nonconsensual sex.” The only response he got to either statement was an indrawn breath that cued she was listening.
She didn’t make a complaint, but he knew that she was nervous based on the fact that she shuddered once against his leg. When she finally stilled, he had already formulated a plan on how they could make this work. He didn’t want to frighten her, but there was no choice in the matter. If he didn’t make the show a good one, then not only were their lives forfeit, but the lives of the women they were attempting to save would be as well. When he was sure that the plan was solid, he decided to let her in on how it would work.
“I need you to fight me, pet. Not our usual spar, but show a bit of spirit. Then I will tie you up, hand and foot, and I will give you a handkerchief. When it is time for the breath play I will not use an apparatus, but my bare hands around your throat. If at any point it becomes too much, drop the cloth to the floor and I will release you. Can you comply with that, my slave?”
“Yes, Master, I can do whatever you need me to.” But he could feel the resolve that backed the words and knew that with this woman by his side that everything and anything was possible. Even this.
“Good girl.” He knew she had to be scared. Hell, even he was fearful of what the outcome would be. He didn’t imagine that the requested show would be of this caliber. Jonah had several preplanned shows. He had even prepped to cane her, but he had not prepared for anything of the nature that was requested.
This was a last-minute change, as during the interrogation Lanham had assured him that the show was one for punishment only. The man knew what side his toast should be buttered on, especially considering that he was still under custody of the team. It was originally intended to be more of a tease than a true display of Dominant prowess, so Jonah was concerned about the change. He had read about breath play, but the little he knew wouldn’t fill a thimble partway.
If there was one place to be inept and untutored, this wasn’t it.
Just before the show started, he ordered Jaden to use the bathroom and offered her a drink of water from a freshly opened bottle. If she felt anywhere near the way he did, her mouth was a sandstorm of sawdust tongue and parched lips.
When she was comfortable, he watched from the wings of the stage as the patrons walked inside. Each person entering screamed money at its highest echelons, but almost nouveau, as if earned in the current generation. The clues were mostly based on wardrobe choices, more flashy than old-moneyed people preferred.
The worst part was he was unsure how he was going to keep his heart out of this, how he would keep his body from showing the em
otions he felt for her. It was going to be his most difficult acting job to date.
When the crew-cut guard came back to the stage, he knew it was time for the show to begin.
“It is time.” Jonah peered around the curtain and sighed. He, for the first time ever, wanted no part of what he was about to do. As a matter of fact, he wished that he could murder every person who was about to revel in this violation.
When the curtain opened, the heavy fabric rustled along the floor and made a sound eerily reminiscent of dragging feet.
“Run, if you can, slave.” Her hands were imprisoned within his clasp, and he released the bound limbs and cast her aside firmly enough the motion seemed careless, callous.
She scrambled away from him as soon as she was free, and the push against her back knocked her halfway to the ground. Jaden did well in her role as a helpless servant at the whim of an asshole Dom, as she scampered, scurried, and dodged him. She even ran off the stage and begged for help from the watching men. The pleas spilled easily from her lips at one man, even as she twirled toward the next uncaring patron with the same request for aid.
Jonah noted that each had a tent in his pants, evidence that Jonah was not the only man who found his spirited black beauty lustworthy. The sight of erect men made him even angrier, and he used the ire to fuel his chase.
One man even had the nerve to grab Jaden’s ankle, which she allowed to trip her. Then she ineptly shrugged off the clasped fingers and continued her circuit. But that didn’t stop Jonah from catching up to her in short order, and he let her run back toward to the stage so the viewers could see more of the action without craning their necks. When he was finished hemming her into corners, she stood proudly and panted as if she knew that there was nowhere left to go. And no person left to ask for alms.
But she was far from out of tricks, and when he laid his hands on her, she fought him. She didn’t use any of her skills, but she did give a good display nonetheless. She kicked at him and even scratched him across the cheek with her neatly manicured nails. He had gotten into the chase at that point, and he was fascinated with capturing the fleeing beauty.
When he wrestled her into a testy, hissing submission with unsubtle brute force, she was trussed up with a coarse rope and her hands bound in front. It wasn’t long before he maneuvered her to the leather-padded table and flung Jaden onto the surface as she struggled to roll away. Her hands were then stretched overhead the rope binding them was tied to the headrest.
Jaden kicked out wildly, and her hips bucked upward. Jonah took the gyrating ankles one at a time and fastened each the same as her hands, but at the base. Although, he gave the lower limbs some added slack and spread them apart. Her waist was lashed down to the altar of lust with the roughened belt midway along the frame.
No sooner than he finished her restraints, he handed her his pocket square of handkerchief. She balled the fabric up tightly as if the square was a lifeline to the woman that she really was instead of the person she pretended to be.
Jonah leaned close to her, took a nip of her skin, and used the bite as cover for what he had to say. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I do, Master.” Her eyes were clear, as if she had given up every fiber of her being to him. And more than anything, he wanted to be worth that risk.
“Not as just your Master, but with your life?”
Her eyes were sincere, filled with many emotions, and he was relieved the most prevalent was trust. “You are the only man I have ever trusted.”
With those words Jonah let himself go. He angrily pulled the crotchless net between her thighs apart. The spandex threads ripped audibly. He pulled his cock out and shoved against her as she struggled with the bonds strapping her to the table. When the head of his cock delved inside of her, she groaned loudly and screamed bloody murder. He had no idea if the sound was born of pleasance or pain, but he couldn’t make the attempt to care while they were on center stage.
* * * *
Jaden knew she was in for a raw and furious fuck, but this was beyond what she imagined. Jonah didn’t chase her. He let her box herself into corners as he stalked her, watched, and waited. When she was sure that she was going to be caught, he let her run, and she realized he wanted her on the stage. She ran in her showgirl heels and stumbled over the step slightly to give him a chance to catch her. He was upon her in the second it took her to gain sure footing again.
When he laid his hands on her, she lashed out and scratched him across the cheek. The welt seemed to add something else to his attitude, and Jonah grabbed her hands roughly. He bent her ruthlessly, using his body as leverage along with his firm grip, and she went with the pressure to either yield or break. It only took him a moment to fasten her hands to the top of the table.
Once she was secured to the metal, he proceeded to strap her legs wide apart at the far corners. The only slack available would allow her to arch upward or bend her knees, though not both at once. Jaden felt her palms begin to sweat. She was defenseless, and she had to trust that Jonah would protect her. She had no choice but to submit to whatever was going to happen, and the thought exhilarated her even with the sharp bite of fear that peppered her heels.
He ripped the crotch of her body suit and thrust against her, but didn’t enter her with his cock. But the second time he pushed against her, she felt him make his way inside of her. There was no barrier between them, and he was thick with arousal. The full folds of her sex welcomed the strength he butted against her with and she could feel her pussy lips swell even fuller with heat. The motions were sure, strong, and smooth, as if this was natural, and as if no one else was there.
The moment she had the thought, Jonah looked at her and she forgot about the men who watched just feet away. Jonah would never let any of them touch her. She trusted he would kill every man in the room before that could happen, or die trying. And that was the crux of her dilemma. She wanted him to live no matter what.
“Take this cock, my bitch.” The last word was hissed, and Jaden felt herself quiver inside from the use of the derogative.
Before she could let her thoughts take her out of the moment, Jonah pinched her nipples roughly, and the unexpected touch was enough to bring her too close to the edge. She heard herself scream, and Jonah silenced the noise with one hand roughly cupped over her mouth. The gag of digits and palm didn’t keep the screams silent, but merely kept them muffled. When she panted for breath, he pulled his hand from her lips and let his fingers trail over her chin.
When his fingerprints scalded her jaw with dangerous erotic heat, he danced the digits over her neck and cupped his hand over her throat. He gave another vicious thrust with his cock that made her forget what he was about to do. As she sucked in a breath to cry aloud, his hand tightened and there was nowhere for the sound to go. She panicked and struggled within her bondage, but he wouldn’t let her gasp for air. As soon as she was sure that she would have to cry uncle and drop the cloth, he let her go and continued thrusting as if his life depended on it.
Jaden was so stuck on trying to get enough oxygen that her starved lungs couldn’t support the moans she wanted to make. Instead she emitted a brief burst of growls and pants that matched his. They sounded like animals in heat, and his cock made her weak from the neck down. When he placed his hand at her throat this time, she was ready.
But this time, she felt no fear like before, and the lack of oxygen was a high all of its own that pushed her over the peak. She heard the faintest gurgle, and she realized the sound came from her own throat. When his hand released her this time, she shuddered and felt her pussy squirt juices between them. The wetness made Jonah even wilder than before, and he bucked harder and fiercer until she quivered and writhed beneath him to the full extent the bonds would allow.
Jonah lowered his forehead to hers and rubbed over the column of throat with the same fingers just used to choke her. Their gasps were hungry bursts of breath that dueled in tandem, and they only needed mere inches to meet lips. By the time
he came, she could feel the spurts of thick cum wash her pussy and whip over the mouth of her womb. Jaden was embarrassed at how crazy she was for his cock. But despite her shame, the hunger deep within her cunt sought just one more thrust to milk her pleasure even farther.
For long moments later, she lay against the metal, sticky and limp.
When she had relaxed from the inordinate desire, Jonah had freed the restraints from her arms and legs. Her skirt was straightened along with her top. There was the echo of clapping around her, and she was unsure what was next. This was the area where their hasty new plan had delved into a slapstick improvisation, due to their lack of time to hash it out properly beforehand. She waited for Jonah to give even a thin cue she could follow. But she sat upright and slid off of the table anyway. It was better that she be ready to act however she needed to when the time came.
Rather than make her stand right next to him, she knelt beside him and adopted the proper waiting posture at his side. The guard with short hair, also missing a neck like the previous guards, bade them to follow him in the hall where two denuded women stood with their hands extended.
It was then that the male asked Jonah to come with him.
“Where I go, she goes.” Jonah’s sharp reply was quickly issued, but the guard’s refusal was in his demeanor without a word.
But the man appeared disgruntled, and his face turned red. “You have no choice in the matter. The patron would like to speak with you. Your slave will be sent down the hall to wait for now.”
Jonah looked at her, and Jaden could see he was irate with the change in plans. The information he’d received beforehand was all wrong, and that was the worst part of the espionage game. The slightest misstep in action or mistake in the planning phases had grave consequences down the road, and the only way to see the pitfalls was to trip into them. But she knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Neither of them did. They had to act according to the prescribed roles. Their farce was the only thing that kept them alive.
The Laughing Assassin [Assassin's Diary] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 18
