by S. J. Lewis
“Get out here, bitch!” she called out. “Get out here now!” She stepped back as the door slowly opened and Krissy stepped out warily. She froze when she saw the two men, her hand still on the doorknob. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to dart back into the powder room and shut the door behind her, so Palmieri grabbed her by her hair. She yelped, and Palmieri tightened her grip.
“Come over and say hello to the nice gentlemen,” Palmieri sneered. She started to drag Krissy along. The blonde resisted for only a moment, then came along, wincing. Palmieri stopped about three feet from Kingston, let go of the blonde’s hair, and stepped aside.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Kingston didn’t answer. He was looking the blonde up and down so intently that she thought he hadn’t heard her at first and was about to ask again when she thought better of it. Standing in front of Kingston and his driver, the blonde seemed even shorter and younger than she had before.
“What’s your name?” Kingston asked the blonde.
“Krissy,” she answered in a small voice. She began to raise her hands. It looked very much like she wanted to cover herself with her hands but was afraid to. Instead, she patted and smoothed down her hair.
“That your natural hair color?” Kingston cocked his head to one side, frowning.
“Yes,” the blonde answered. Then she quickly added: “Sir.”
“Turn around,” Kingston ordered, gesturing with one hand. The blonde obeyed, turning slowly, looking up towards the ceiling the whole time. She stopped with her back to him.
“Not bad,” Kingston nodded towards Palmieri. “Hot little body, and she’s got a great ass. Tell me more about her.”
“Uh…” Palmieri was caught off guard. She had been distracted by the change in the blonde’s attitude from the first moment she’d laid eyes on Kingston. Up until then she’d been acting almost bored by everything, remote and unreachable. Now she seemed actually scared, actually worried. She was trying very hard not to show it, but there was a tension in her body language that hadn’t been there before. Every woman they’d ever brought to Kingston had reacted in the same way, except for the ones that had immediately begun screaming. Kingston was a bad man: Some might even call him evil. Every dollar he made came from some sort of criminal activity. Buying, training and selling women was one of those activities, and the one that Palmieri found both repellent and darkly intriguing. But there was nothing in his outward appearance that should cause women to react to him in the way that they always did. Palmieri cleared her throat.
“There’s not much to tell, actually,” she shrugged. “Her cover is that she works as a model, but she makes most of her money drugging and rolling rich guys. She wears disguises when she does that.”
“Tell me more,” Kingston said without looking at her. He stepped up close behind the blonde and raised her hands up over her head. The blonde kept them there without being told to. Palmieri saw her shudder as Kingston began running his big hands along her naked body, starting with her thighs and slowly moving up along her flanks. She flinched and made an odd little squeaking noise when Kingston cupped and squeezed her breasts, but she kept her arms up.
“Like I said, there’s not much more to tell,” Palmieri gulped. “She’s flown under the radar for all of her life, as near as we can tell. She goes by Kristina Lynn Saunders, but that might not be the name she was born with. No close friends, no family. Oh, and she likes girls.”
“Really,” Kingston commented as he tweaked the blonde’s nipples, making her flinch and squeak again. “Just girls, or men and girls?”
“Uh…just girls,” Palmieri replied.
“Kind of a waste,” Kingston said. “She’s got a body like a sex playground.” Palmieri heard the blonde whimper and wished she could see her face at that moment.
“Get over on the mattress, Krissy,” Kingston ordered as he let go of her. The blonde hurried to obey, though part of her haste had to be due to an urge to get away from those hands.
“On your knees,” Kingston said. The blonde knelt, keeping her legs together, not looking at anybody. There was no doubt about it, she was scared, badly scared.
“I suppose Spooner has already sampled her charms?” Kingston inquired as he surveyed the blonde.
“Uh…yes, he did,” Palmieri admitted.
“No matter,” Kingston shrugged. “Krissy!” he barked. “Look at me!”
The blonde raised her head and looked at him. Palmieri saw fear in her eyes, and hatred. She heard Kingston chuckle.
“Wrap her up, Jones,” he said to his driver. “We’ll take her.” Palmieri turned to see Jones pull a roll of duct tape from his coat pocket and advance on the blonde. That seemed to pull the trigger on all the emotions she’d kept bottled up until then. She scrambled to her feet, only to be knocked back down onto the mattress by a casual swat from Jones’ open hand. That didn’t shut her up, though. She kept screaming as Jones got her face-down on the mattress, struggling as he sat down on her, facing backwards, then gasping for breath as she took his full weight. She kicked, first wildly, then feebly as he bound her ankles with several passes of duct tape before moving up to do the same to her legs just above her knees. Her torso disappeared under Jones’ bulk and coat, and all Palmieri could see was the top of her blonde head. Once Jones was done securing the blonde’s knees, he got up off of her and turned around. She could barely struggle at all by then, and it took him only a few moments to duct tape her wrists tightly. That done, he pulled her arms back roughly, stopping only when she shrieked in pain with about four inches of space between her elbows. He used the tape to secure her arms, just above her elbows, then stood up, smiling. The blonde just lay there, writhing and sobbing. She yelped weakly when he slapped her ass, and then went back to sobbing hopelessly. It was almost heartbreaking to hear her: She sounded so young and so helpless. Palmieri steeled herself. The blonde was a thief, a criminal. She’d finally been caught and now she deserved whatever she had coming. The fact that she would bring Palmieri a nice wad of cash made it a bit easier to not feel any sympathy towards her.
“Load her in the car,” Kingston told Jones. The driver bent to pick the blonde up and sling her over his shoulder. He did it so roughly that the blonde’s sobs were cut off in a pained grunt.
“You’re not going to gag her?” Palmieri asked.
“Not just yet,” Kingston replied. “Sometimes they get so scared that they vomit. If they do that when they’re gagged they are in danger of asphyxiating themselves, and that little blonde is a bit too valuable to risk in that way.”
Jones headed for the door to the garage. Palmieri started to follow him, but stopped when Kingston laid a hand on her arm. She had a sudden urge to shake his hand off, but an even greater instinct warning her not to do it. Instead, she turned to look at him, stepping slightly away from him to break the contact.
“A moment, Jessica, if you please,” Kingston said.
Palmieri smiled. “Yes?”
“Why did you want to meet here?”
“Uh…this is my cousin’s house,” Palmieri answered. “She’s trying to sell it, but it’s been on the market for six months and no takers. I promised her I’d keep an eye on it, and it’s nice and private.”
“Another thing. I wonder why such a capable woman as yourself is content to have such a fat slob as a partner.”
“Spooner has his uses,” Palmieri replied carefully. “He’s easily satisfied, and as long as he’s satisfied he does whatever I tell him.”
“I see. Do you trust him?”
“No,” Palmieri shook her head. “I don’t.”
“Neither do I,” Kingston said. “And unfortunately he knows too much for my peace of mind any more. Would you miss him very much?”
Palmieri had to swallow before she could answer. If she said the wrong thing it could go very badly for her. “No,” she replied.
“Good,” Kingston smiled. “I’ll have your money for this stunning little blonde in
one week. I want you to come to me to collect it. I’ll send you the address.”
“Why can’t you just send it to us…to me…the way you usually do?” Palmieri asked. This conversation was taking far too many disturbing turns. On top of that, it felt as if Kingston was slowly peeling away her clothes with his eyes. She wanted to take another step back, but something told her that doing that would be a terrible mistake. Then she realized: She was trapped now, trapped just as surely as that blonde.
“Because I would like to get to know you better, Jessica,” Kingston’s smile widened, just a bit. He slowly reached out and took hold of the collar of her blouse. He pulled her towards him, slowly, until their faces were inches apart. “Please don’t disappoint me,” he said quietly.
“Of course not!” Palmieri managed an answering smile. “Just tell me where and when.”
“I’ll do that,” he said as he let go of her blouse. “Now, I’m afraid that I have to attend to some business. I’ll call you.” He turned and left. Palmieri could only stand rooted to the floor for a long, long moment after he started up the stairs to the garage. She wished that she had a good stiff drink handy, or, even better, a whole bottle. Kingston bought and trained and sold women, and now it seemed that he’d taken a personal interest in her. She was just over thirty…well, a couple of years over thirty, anyway. That was too old to be trained and sold as another sex slave, but not too old for him to want her for himself. Would he want to ‘train’ her as well? She shuddered as she realized that some part of her was wondering what that would be like. Kingston was an attractive man. He had looks and money and power. She had seen other women, younger women, prettier women, throw themselves at him. How bad could it be?
She shuddered again. She had a bottle of good rye whiskey back at home, and when she got there she would put a good, big dent in the contents. If she was lucky, she’d be able to drink enough to sleep without any dreams tonight. She would wake up with a massive hangover, but she was off duty tomorrow, and the pain should keep her from thinking too much about how her life had just changed tonight. She didn’t know what Kingston had in mind for Spooner, and she didn’t want to think about that at all. Spooner was a pig. She despised him, no matter how useful he might be, but all the same hoped that whatever happened to him was over with quickly.
She heard Kingston’s car start up. She really should walk through the rest of her cousin’s house just to make sure everything was all right. She had the keys, and Spooner would wait. But she really didn’t feel like it, so screw it. She made her way up to the garage, her knees feeling a bit wobbly, and found Spooner leaning up against her rental car.
“What were you two talking about down there?” he asked.
“He just wanted some more information on the blonde,” she answered wearily. “I told him we didn’t have much, but I don’t think he believed me at first.”
“Oh. So we’ll get paid in the usual way then?”
“Don’t worry,” Palmieri sighed as she slid into the driver’s seat. “You’ll…we’ll be taken care of. Like always.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just feeling a little under the weather is all. Look, I’m just gonna drop you off at your place and then go home. We can divvy up what we took from the blonde later, all right?”
“Yeah, sure. I trust you,” Spooner lied.
Chapter Seven
Krissy was no longer sobbing. That terrifying man had told her to shut up, so she had. She couldn’t quite stop whimpering, though. She was lying face down on the floor in the back of the car, and he had his foot on the back of her neck. He wasn’t applying any pressure, but she knew that he could, and would, any time that he felt like it. The carpeting felt rough against her breasts, belly and thighs, but that was a minor irritation. The other man had pulled her elbows so close together that her neck, arms and shoulders were beginning to ache. She felt like throwing up, but she hadn’t had time to eat anything all evening so her stomach churned acid and empty. Every so often, whenever the car hit a bump, she could taste bile in the back of her throat. If she hadn’t used the powder room back in that empty house, she was sure that she would have soiled herself by now. And the ride went on and on, in silence broken only by the muted tiger purring of the car’s engine, the sound of its tires on the road, and her own hopeless whimpers.
She’d thought she knew what to expect. She’d heard stories, and had at least thought about what she would do if one of those stories ever happened to her. But it was very clear now that what had happened to her…what was still happening to her…didn’t sound like any story she had ever heard. She didn’t like thinking about that: It could mean that no one had ever come back to tell such a story.
She felt the car turn, then accelerate smoothly, powerfully. The man took his foot off of the back of her neck and bent over to take Krissy by her shoulders. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a kitten and sat her down on his lap.
“How are you?” he asked.
“It hurts,” Krissy answered. “Sir.” It was probably a good idea to call him ‘sir’. He certainly seemed to like it.
“Yes, I imagine that it does,” he nodded. Up close like this, he seemed even more threatening. On the surface, he seemed very much like many of the men she’d targeted over the past few years: Middle aged, going a little gray at his temples, good-looking, probably very well-off…until she got to his eyes. She shuddered and turned her head away. His eyes were intense. They took in everything at a glance, piercing every outward appearance. They were a predator’s eyes, a hunter’s eyes. Had she come across him under any other circumstances, those eyes would have warned her against thinking of targeting him. Indeed, she would have gone to great lengths for him to not even notice her.
He put one arm around her shoulders, keeping her upright. “It usually does hurt,” he said as his free hand came up to cup and squeeze her breast. “But doesn’t it make these lovely tits stand out? You’re a very lucky girl,” he went on. “These are beautifully formed and quite delectable.” He shifted his hand to her other breast. “Other women would kill for a pair like these. I’m afraid that gravity is not going to be your friend, though. Now, imagine how appealing they’d look with your elbows touching. That would make them really stick out, wouldn’t it? Men would drool over them.” He ran the backs of his fingers across her nipples. She shuddered.
“But you prefer other women, I’m told,” he sighed. “Is that true?”
“Yes, sir,” Krissy gulped.
“So something like this repels you?” His hand came down gently on her thigh. Then he began to slowly slide his fingers between her legs. Krissy heaved weakly, tasting bile again.
“Yes, sir,” she sobbed. She wanted to beg him not to do that, but it would be pointless. He was going to do what he was going to do.
“It seems a shame,” he said, his voice softening. “Your skin is so warm and soft.” His fingers slid and squeezed, as if they were so many lascivious tongues that found her flesh delicious. She heaved again, out of fear and revulsion. The acids from her empty stomach burned her throat. His fingers, still between her legs, moved slowly upwards.
“Have you ever had a man, Krissy?” he asked. “I mean apart from that fat lout tonight? But I imagine you had no choice then. Answer me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And did you enjoy it?”
Krissy hesitated.
“Come, now. It’s not that difficult a question. Was your first time with a man or a woman?”
“A man, sir.”
“And did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, sir.” Indeed she had, but she really hadn’t known much then, and she certainly hadn’t known how much sweeter, how much better, it could be with other women. Once she had realized that, men had become more and more distasteful to her over time. Now she was here, naked, alone and painfully bound, in the hands of a man, close enough to smell the lingering remnants of his aftershave. Once more, she tasted bile.
“Well,
perhaps you’ll come to enjoy it again,” he chuckled. “You might as well. You won’t have any say in the matter.”
“Look,” Krissy began desperately. “I’ll do whatever you want, sir. I’ll do it right here, if you want. You want my pussy? My mouth? My ass? They’re yours. Just…please let me go when you’re done with me.” Once the words were out, she realized how utterly lame they sounded. But she had to try, didn’t she? And what else could she do?
All he did was laugh, as uproariously as if he’d just heard the best joke in his life.
“Oh, my,” he chuckled as he brought himself back under control. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that same offer? What makes you silly bitches think I can be bribed with something I already possess? I already own your ass, little girl…and all these other fine parts.” His hand came up to squeeze her breast, painfully this time. “You have nothing to bargain with, Krissy. Nothing at all. And soon, not now but soon, you’ll be begging me to use your pussy, or your mouth, or your ass, instead of trying to bargain with them. Now keep that sweet mouth shut unless and until I ask you a question or want to put something in it. Understand?”
Krissy could only stare into his feral dark eyes in horror until he shook her roughly.
“Understand?” he growled. She opened her mouth to answer ‘yes, sir’, quickly shut it again and simply nodded.
“Good,” he said, and then he put her face down across his lap. She felt one hand on the back of her neck, then the other sliding slowly up and down the backs of her thighs. She couldn’t help flinching and whimpering as he began squeezing her ass.
“You’re in very good shape,” he said as he handled her. “Nice, soft skin, great muscle tone.” He slapped her ass, not too hard, but she jerked and grunted and tried to cover herself with her hands.
“No, you bitch,” he growled. “You’ll fucking take what’s given to you.” His hand came away from her neck and grabbed her taped wrists, raising her arms away from her body until she shrieked at the pain. His other hand came down on her ass hard, making her shriek again. When he didn’t strike her again for a moment she hoped that that would be the end of it, but then his hand came down even harder…and harder…and harder…and harder. She writhed and struggled, screaming as the punishment went on and on. Once she almost wriggled off of his lap, but that only seemed to infuriate him and the remorseless spanking got worse. When he finally stopped she could hear him breathing heavily. Her screams had subsided to sobs and moans of pain. Her ass felt as if it was on fire, her neck and shoulders throbbed.
