by Twyla Turner
I put down my fork, and before I can rise, he speaks.
“I can see that you’re starting to have feelings for her.”
I turn my head to look at him. I neither deny nor agree. There is no point. Ivan is extremely observant. He would not be where he is if he wasn’t.
“Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment, Skotina. Or do I need to replace you with someone else?” Ivan cocks his head to the side as he asks.
I shake my head.
“Good.”
I slowly rise and start towards the doorway.
“Make sure she’s ready by nine and bring her straight down to the club. Oh, and Skotina?” I pause but don’t turn around. “Don’t even think about touching her. She’s mine.”
I nod once and walk out.
I feel my ears turn hot first before the heat of anger spreads to my entire face. Ivan and I have never been at odds with each other. It’s been rare in the last twenty years that I have even been mad at him. He has been almost like a father to me. Or a close uncle.
Winter is changing everything.
I reach her door and listen carefully. I hear them still working on her, so I wait.
About an hour later, I hear the locked doorknob jiggle before a soft knock sounds from the other side.
“We’re finished,” someone says from the other side in French.
I turn and unlock the door.
The three stylists stand directly on the other side of the door as I open it, but I do not see them. Just Winter. She’s standing back in the middle of the room.
She is resplendent in red satin. The crimson dress skims her body in the most flattering way. Accentuating her curves as it cascades to the floor.
Her white, coiling afro is intricately braided to one side. On the other side, the curls stand out to their full splendor and drape seductively over one eye in the front.
Her face is done in a way that enhances her fair coloring. Her white lashes stand out, so I assume they used some sort of clear mascara. Her cheeks have the slightest tint of shimmering gold. And her gorgeous full lips look even fuller, painted a deep red.
She does not know it yet, but she is going to be desired by nearly every single club member who lays eyes on her. I am sure Ivan will be busy turning away interested parties all night.
I sweep my hand out towards the hallway. “It is time.”
The stylists immediately start out the room. Winter hesitates a moment. She takes a deep breath and nods before walking towards the door. Her hips swaying with every step.
The determined set of her shoulders and the defiant lift of her chin tells me that she’s most certainly going to disobey Ivan’s orders.
As she comes near me, I reach for her soft upper arm. I squeeze gently, and she looks up at me. Her defiant golden eyes telling me that I am right.
I shake my head. “Don’t.”
Her teeth clench, and her lips tighten before she looks away from me.
She’s going to do it anyway.
I sigh and lead her downstairs with the rest of the beauty team. I guide them through the front door of the penthouse, down the hall to the elevator.
I stand next to Winter as we ride down in silence. My body coils. Ready to grab her if she tries to make a run for it. Even though I know, I should probably just let her go. It would be for the best. Ivan will most likely never let her go. But it appears that I cannot let her go either.
We reach the first floor and the doors slide open.
Here we go…
~~~
I have no idea what to expect tonight. I watch as Estelle, Basile, and Chloe head towards the front door of the building. With a final wave back at me, they disappear out to freedom. I’d run out with them, but the two hulking guards at the door stop me.
Skotina leads me towards one of the doors inside the building. I can hear the pulsing sound of music as we walk down a dark corridor. He opens another door that leads to a stage. Apparently, the club and Ivan’s home is all in the same building.
Lovely.
I know that it will make it harder for me to escape. At least if the club was in another part of the city, I could risk a tuck and roll out of the car. But of course, I wouldn’t be that lucky.
In the center of the stage is a giant, gilded cage with a large swing inside of it. I guess I really am going to be a songbird.
Yeah, if only I were actually gonna sing.
I could hear the synthesized rhythm of the song You & Me by Disclosure playing over hidden speakers. The strangely seductive song blends with the murmurs of a crowd. I can’t really make out anyone through the almost transparent material of the black curtain that blocked the stage from view. Only shadows seemed to dance from the other side.
The sound of footsteps reach my ears. I look up to see Ivan walking across the other side of the stage. I try to school my features to seem agreeable, instead of the raging disobedience I actually felt.
He stops only inches from me.
“I hope you’re ready, Miss Rose.” Ivan caresses a single finger down the side of my face. “Because I have a lot of people excited to see what I’m unveiling tonight.”
I guess you’re gonna be embarrassed in front of a lot of people then.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say as I turn my face away from his touch.
“You better be.” He squints at me. “Start with Carmen’s Habanera.”
He turns and strides back from where he came. His gait is that of a man that has entirely too much confidence. As if he knows people will jump at his every command.
Not this woman.
I think it’s time that he gets knocked down a few pegs. I figure it’ll be worth whatever punishment he gives me if I can ruffle those perfect feathers for even a few minutes.
Some stagehands come to help me inside of the cage as Skotina stands back watching me. I try to avoid making eye contact with him. I don’t want to see the warning in his eyes, like when we were upstairs in my room.
He knows my plan and wants me to reconsider. Well, I’m not under his boss’ thumb like he is. I’ll do whatever I want. The consequences be damned.
I feel my chest rise and fall rapidly as I let the rage that I’ve buried the last few days bubble back up.
The cage trembles a bit before I feel it begin to rise. Slowly someone in the wings takes me and the cage up above the stage out of sight. My sweaty palms grip the thick ropes of the swing. The rough cords scrape my skin.
Down below, I see the shadow of a figure walk onto the stage from the other side of the curtain. Then a voice comes over the speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a special treat for you. Meet the jewel of Illicit, Miss Winter Rose!” The announcer booms over the speakers.
I hear excited murmurs from those who know my name before the black curtain rises and the cage starts its slow descent to the stage. The stage is dark, so I as I come down I can see the audience under the dim lights. My heart nearly explodes in my chest at the sight that greets me.
What the fuck?!
A handful of tables line the front of the stage, where some couples are dining or having a few drinks. Behind them are three curved rows of crescent shaped dark red couches. Everyone is wearing masks. Leather, lace, bejeweled, studded, whatever. Some masks cover only the eyes. While others wear masks that almost covers their entire face. Some even have masks with animal ears on top.
Couples and groups of three or more occupy each couch. Some watch the stage with interest. Others are too busy.
First, my eyes focus on a handsome man with a black leather mask covering just his eyes, accentuating his square jawline. He watches as my cage lowers. On the floor in front of him is a woman in a black cocktail dress, on her knees giving him a blowjob.
My mouth falls open in shock.
On another couch is a woman stripped completely naked. Her legs are spread, and a man is between them as they drape over his shoulders. His face buried in her crotch as another man
alternates between kissing her lips and sucking her breasts.
The couch next to them has another threesome. This one with two women and a man. He is pounding into one woman doggy-style as she goes down on the other woman that is lying on the couch, arching her back in pure bliss.
And those are the more tame images I see.
My eyes quickly scan the entire room. Most of the crowd is in some stage of the lovemaking process. Even if I had planned to sing, I don’t think a single note would come out of my throat as it constricts with dismay.
Ivan’s exclusive club was a sex club.
I can’t even breathe.
Suddenly the spotlight drenches my frozen body in soft lighting.
I’m blind to anything in front of me.
Shit…
Chapter 9
As the cage lowers, I watch Winter closely. I watch the shock register on her face as she finally sees her ‘audience.’
The spotlight pours over her, and she swallows thickly. The instrumental music to the famous opera song waves through the air from the speakers. But Winter doesn’t part her lips. I can tell that it is no longer rebelliousness that silences her tongue. It is the shock of being let in on Ivan’s little secret.
Why Ivan did not warn her is beyond me. But I get the feeling that he has been bored and he is now enjoying the cat and mouse game with her.
As if he knew she would be unable to sing when the truth was revealed. In turn, making her defy him even when he told her not to. All to punish her and bend her to his will. To break her. He was still sore from her saying no in the first place. No one tells Ivan Petrov, no.
My fear is what will be his form of punishment for her.
Pain or humiliation.
Winter is still frozen like a deer in headlights. Her chest rising and falling harshly. My eyes scan the room. Many members pause in their conversations or lovemaking to see what is happening. I search for Ivan and find him to the right of the stage. A calculating smile curving is lips.
I was right. It was his plan all along.
He quickly takes the stairs up to the stage, two at a time. He strides to the middle, and the music quiets to background noise.
Those who are not in the throes of passion focus on the owner of the club.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please forgive my little songbird.” Ivan smiles. “She appears to be suffering from a little stage fright. Maybe we could help ease her into how things work here.”
A murmur of excitement travels quickly through the crowd.
My body tenses.
Ivan turns to Winter and speaks to her softly. Only loud enough for her to hear. Her eyes widen with trepidation and she quietly responds before he opens the cage. He holds out his hand, and she takes it reluctantly. Her hand trembling along the way. Ivan helps her out of the cage, and he nods to a couple of stagehands off to the side.
The cage lifts back up into the rafters. The stagehands roll forward an object that makes my blood immediately boil.
A St. Andrews Cross.
The fact that the stagehands didn’t need to be told what to bring out let me know that Ivan really had been planning this from the start. It takes all that I have not to storm onto the stage and break his face.
But then he would have me killed, and there would be no one to protect Winter. At least if I keep my wits about me, I can eventually think of a way to help her gain her freedom again. I have never defied Ivan before, but I guess now is as good a time as any.
Until then, I watch with fists balled at my sides.
~~~
Ivan walks up to the cage and I grip the ropes tightly in anticipation of what he could possibly have up his sleeve.
“Alright, my dear, you have one of two choices.” He says softly enough that only I can hear. “One, you can sing. Or two, take your punishment. Choose.”
“I’m not singing, so I guess I’ll take the other.” I can barely hide the quiver in my voice.
“As you wish,” Ivan grins as he opens the cage door.
I take his offered hand with trembling fingers and he guides me to the front of the stage. He signals to someone backstage. I hear the stagehands moving something behind me. I turn nervously and see this giant wooden X with leather manacles on each end. I quickly turn back to Ivan and look him in the eyes. He smiles at me with gleeful anticipation.
My knees literally quake.
I swear to the Lord above, that I’m about to pass out. I still can’t see the audience because of the spotlight shining in my eyes, but I feel their eyes on me.
Ivan reaches for my left arm, and I try to jerk away from him.
“Fight me, and I swear to God, your punishment will be so much worse.” He growls at me low in his throat so that only I can hear. “You’ve embarrassed me enough this evening. And now you’ll pay for it. Then you’ll learn to never say no to Ivan Petrov.”
He reaches for my arm again, and I let him raise it up to the first leather cuff. He quickly secures my wrist within the fur lined shackle. He buckles my other wrist and then kneels down in front of me to lock my ankles in place. Which puts me in a spread-eagle position.
The vulnerable position makes my pulse race. I’m finding it hard to get air into my lungs and my entire body trembles uncontrollably.
Ivan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pocketknife. My eyes widen as he comes close to me. I feel my bottom lip quiver.
“P-Please, Ivan,” I beg.
“Shh…”
I’m not even sure what I’m begging for. For him to stop? For him to explain what’s about to come?
He lifts one of the spaghetti straps on my dress and slices through it with the knife. Part of the dress slides down, nearly exposing my strapless bra. Ivan moves to the next strap. My breath comes in short erratic pants. He lightly scrapes the blunt side of the blade against my skin. The cold metal sends a chill down my spine.
Ivan steps closer to me. His mouth only inches from mine.
“I can see the fear and excitement in your eyes.” His breath brushes my lips. “I think this will be much more entertaining for my members than singing.”
The knife cuts through the second strap. The rest of the material covering my breasts flutters down, fully exposing my bra. I hear the light applause of the apparently rapt audience. My whole body flushes with color, marking my embarrassment.
I wish I could say that he’s finished. He is not.
He pulls the red satin away from my trembling stomach and slashes the knife down. The blade tears through the dress. Ivan grasps the rest of the material in his hands and pulls. The dress splits all the way down, leaving me in just my bra and panties.
Years of being drilled into me that my body is a temple that only the man I marry should see, fuels my embarrassment. I feel tears of humiliation sting my eyes.
Don’t do it, Winter. Don’t you dare show him any more weakness.
I try my best to push down my shame and suck up my tears.
“More!”
“Show us more!”
“All of it!”
People shout out, and Ivan eats it up. He’s getting off on their excitement and my discomfiture.
I grit my teeth. My eyes focus on his, revealing every ounce of hatred I feel for him.
“It’s okay if you hate me, Winter. Your hatred will make it so much better when we fuck,” he whispers in my ear.
“Go to hell!” I sneer in his face when he pulls back to look at me.
“That’s my girl.”
Ivan pulls at the front of the red bra, slides the knife under it, and cuts through it with one hard jerk. It falls away from my skin and drops to the floor, joining the ruined dress. I feel the heaviness of my breasts without the added lift. The cool air hits my nipples, and they immediately draw up and tighten. Ivan steps back, putting me on display. The audience shows their appreciation.
“Beautiful,” Ivan says softly as he gazes at my naked breasts. “Your nipples are as pale and pink as I thought they’d be. I
’d love to know what else is pink.”
I steel myself for what comes next.
He quickly cuts through both sides of the lacy red thong the stylist had given me to wear. The last barrier. The last vestiges of any dignity I had left.
The crowd loves it.
Ivan brings the torn panties to his nose and he breathes in deeply.
“Fuck, you smell delicious!”
His eyes rove over my body. They stop at the thatch of curly white hair that covers my mound. He kneels in front of me, and I close my eyes, unable to watch him ogle me.
The problem is, when I close my eyes, I can feel all of their eyes. I can hear the sounds of lovemaking. I can smell the scent of sex in the air. And the sting of tears hits my eyes once more as I’m hit with my strongest wave of shame so far this evening.
I’m aroused.
I feel disgusted with myself at the wetness I feel at the apex of my thighs.
Ivan stands again and leans into me. “I see you’re not immune. You can act like a stuck up prude, but the body will always give you away.”
He turns towards the audience, and his next words send dread and unwelcome excitement through my body.
“Who would like to volunteer for a little experiment I’d like to try?”
I hear eager shouts pass through the crowd.
“Skotina,” Ivan calls out to his guard. “Find six volunteers to come up.”
I had tried not to think about the quiet guard during the peepshow that I was coerced into participating in, but now it was hard to ignore that he was there and has witnessed my shame. I also have no idea why I care so much. I just know that more tears collect and a few slip down my face unbidden.
A few minutes pass, and Skotina appears on the stage with six people following behind him. Four men and two women. One of the men is the attractive one I saw getting a blowjob earlier. They’re all in their masks. It’s eerie and unfair. I’m stripped bare, and they get to hide behind their masks. Unknown.
They make a semi-circle around me, and Skotina moves to step away. I assume back to where he had been standing this whole time. In the shadows. He never makes eye contact with me. His eyes remain downcast.
