by Liz Crowe
“But if there’s a reason, it’s okay?”
Kirk shrugged, I could tell he was trying to look nonchalant, but his muscles were just as tense as mine. “Your choice. Do as I say; I’ll protect you and we’ll get along just fine.”
“I don’t know whether to be offended or amused that you don’t really want me here. I’m not a damned whore.”
“Never said you were, but things change, and sometimes you don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“So, my new role in life is to stay chained to your bed all day until you decide you’re horny or you want me to kneel at your feet during dinner?” My body was shaking so hard that my voice quivered with each syllable.
“I’m trying to be patient but you’re cascading down my bad side. You’ll do what I tell you to do,” he yelled, yanking me off of the cushion and slamming me into the closet door. “Beyond that, stop berating me and stop looking for a way out unless you want to learn your place the hard way.”
I stood on my toes to keep him from ripping all of my hair out of the top of my head. This was supposed to be the easy way to learn my place?
He pulled harder until it felt like part of my scalp would tear away.
“Okay.” I squeaked. “Master. I understand, please.”
He released me and I slumped against the door, sliding to the floor as he walked away. I tried to push my hair away from my face, but as impossible as it was, it seemed like the strands themselves hurt.
“You have anything else to say?” he asked, partially concealed by the doorway.
I shook my head, and after he disappeared, I curled up on my bed, pulled the blanket over my head and tried to ignore the screaming thoughts that would only get me into more trouble.
Chapter Five
Groomed
The sun peeking around the curtains woke me the next morning and I looked around the empty bedroom. I wouldn’t have even known that someone else had slept in the room if I hadn’t stirred the night before when Kirk locked my wrist to a chain connected to a hook in the floorboard before crawling into bed. There was no doubt that these rooms were set up for the men and their slaves.
And, as if things weren’t fucked up enough, I was living with a criminal who made his bed.
I sat and felt the heavy movement of the chain. It clattered across the floor as I dropped my arm and flopped back. I wouldn’t have guessed that tedium would have been one of the worst parts of the experience.
“You’re up.”
I heard Kirk’s voice but didn’t look up.
“I figured you were already gone,” I mumbled.
He made a sound in his throat and I heard his shoes moving across the floor toward me. I wanted to roll toward the wall, to keep as much distance between us as possible, but I didn’t have anywhere to go.
“I figured I should at least feed you first. Hungry?”
I was, but asking him for anything made me feel even more hopeless. “I could eat.”
His knee popped when he knelt beside me to unlock my cuff. He was already in a new pair of jeans—dark blue, and a V-neck shirt that clung to every rippling muscle. As he hovered next to me, I chewed on the inside of my cheek to keep all of the questions churning in my mind from spilling out.
He rested his forearms on his knees, balancing on the balls of his feet. “What is it?”
“I’m keeping my mouth shut and staying out of trouble.” I tried not to look at him. I didn’t want to remember the things I’d seen the night before, or think about all of the things that were yet to come. If I looked at him, all of my hate and anger would rise to the surface again.
He touched a finger to my chin, and I almost thought I could see a smile. “We both know that’s not going to last long, so you may as well say what it is while I’m offering to listen.”
I rolled over, trying to push myself up as my sore muscles and bones objected. Don’t do it. My heart pounded in my throat, anticipating my mouth’s inevitable betrayal of my better judgment. “Why can’t you just let me go home?”
Kirk stood, towering above me. I wanted to shrink into a ball, shrivel away where he couldn’t hurt me. But, he was going to hurt me. It didn’t matter what I did or didn’t do. I at least deserved a reason why.
He grabbed my hair, and I pushed myself to my feet as quickly as possible. My scalp was already sore and at this rate, I’d be bald by the end of the week.
“Look I don’t even know where we are, who you are… And I don’t care. I just want to go back to my life. To my home.”
“That’s not an option. And you and I both know that you wouldn’t keep your mouth shut for anything. There’s only one way you get out of here, and it wouldn’t involve going back to your life afterward.”
My body went numb as I struggled for words. “I can’t do this.” My chest shook with every syllable, leaving my words chopped off and mangled, just like my optimism. “What I saw last night—I can’t do that.”
“You don’t have a choice.” His jaw was tight, but his voice displayed the same lack of emotion he had when he sealed my fate in the basement.
“Why’d you bring me up here?” My armor cracked, leaving me with nothing but seething agony. My skin felt tight and foreign, like it was squeezing to keep me together. “You don’t give a fuck what happens to me,” I yelled with every bit of strength I had left.
His hands went to his belt. My eyes widened and I tried to duck away, but he grabbed my arm and swung me against the bed, pinning my knees against the footboard and pushing me over against the mattress. I heard his belt slip free of his pants, but the impact I braced for didn’t come. Instead, he twisted my arms behind my back and looped the belt around them, tightening it then using it to pull me off the bed.
He kept my arms raised behind me, right on the threshold of pain. Every movement felt like it’d rip a shoulder out of socket. Pulling me away from the bed, he turned me to stand in front of him and nudged my chin around to face him. “Still haven’t learned your lesson, huh?”
“I learned running is useless. You asked what was on my mind and I told you.”
With a twist of the belt, I yelped and lowered my upper body, trying to change the angle that my arms were rotated.
“Please,” my voice squeaked at the top of its range.
“Stop questioning the things that don’t matter and stop begging for the impossible. When you’re given the chance to talk, use it wisely.” He dragged me into the bathroom and turned on the tub faucet, letting the tub fill half way.
“Decision?” he asked, knocking my legs out from under me so landed on my knees next to the tub.
I screamed as my bones crashed against the floor. Luckily the bathmat kept them from hitting solid tile, but it still shot pain through my bones and up my back. “Please, stop.” My voice echoed off of the tile walls and floor.
“That’s not a decision,” he pushed me over the tub wall leaving my face millimeters above the water. He left me there for a few seconds, and then pushed my face lower until the water danced at my nose. I had to breathe through my mouth to avoid inhaling it.
“No,” I gasped, taking in a mouthful of water and choking on it. He gave me just enough time to catch my breath before shoving me down again.
I tried to kick out my legs to dislodge him, and finally, he jerked me back.
“You’re fighting pretty hard, so which is it? Choose to die or fight to live.”
“You don’t want me to fight.” The water ran down my face and neck, and tiny droplets got caught on my breath as I tried to breathe or talk.
“I don’t want you to fight and continuously question me—the person who’s trying to keep you alive.”
Trying to keep me alive while forcing me to give up my life and turn over my body and soul to his sick fantasies. “You’re the person trying to turn me into a sex slave. If I shouldn’t fight you, who should I fight.”
“If you want to live, it’s all a matter of perspective. I’m not asking you to be okay wit
h it. You can choose to live, but beyond that the choices are mine. You simply do as you’re told.” He eased up and let me straighten then he pulled my hair until I had to face him. “It might not be so bad.”
I gritted my teeth together, feeling the sour bile rising up in my throat. “You’re sick.”
His lip twitched. “Years spent in the wrong profession will do that to a person. I can always give you back to the others.”
“No,” I answered immediately. Given the choices available, the idea of ever having any of them lay a hand on me was the most repugnant.
“I won’t deliberately hurt you unless you give me a reason. I can’t say that about your other options.” He wiped the mixture of water and tears from my face.
“I hate you,” I spat.
“I wouldn’t expect otherwise. All I want is for you to do as I say. Can you do that?”
My chest didn’t want to expand to take a breath. My mind screamed, No, so many no’s I couldn’t keep up. I didn’t want to be offered up to the motley crew. I didn’t want to die. And I didn’t want to listen to this jackass so he could take his perverted pleasures from my body.
Unfortunately, those were my only three options at the moment. And of them, Kirk was the least offensive. There was nowhere else to hide. I knew he could rip me apart—he could certainly do more than ripping out my hair and pinning me against the bath tub. But he hadn’t yet. It was hard to ignore the fact that within our context he was probably downright gentle.
I nodded.
Kirk pulled me to my knees and up off the floor, slipping the belt off my wrists before releasing the plug to drain the tub. “Go to the kitchen and sit down at the table. Do not move, and do not touch anything.”
I looked down at my nakedness, but didn’t think it was a great time to mention clothes. I didn’t dare push him any further, so with a defeated sigh, I dropped to my already bright red knees, and crawled quietly out to the kitchen. I fidgeted in the seat, twisting my hands in my lap as I wrestled with my decision. When I heard footsteps behind me, I froze.
Kirk walked past me and opened up one of the cupboards, setting out a bowl and slamming the wooden door closed. He poured out a portion of cereal, covered it in milk and dropped a spoon in the bowl, then slid it across the table to me.
He sat down across from me and took a deep breath. “Ask your questions.”
I choked on the first bite, the milk attempting to try a new route through my nose. “Do you want me to shut up or open up?”
“Do as I say. Let’s get it over with.” He leaned across the table. “No asking about getting out.”
“What do the—” the word slaves echoed through my mind, but I couldn’t get it out “—girls do all day?”
He smirked. “You saw what the slaves do last night,” he emphasized the word as if he knew I struggled to say it, “during the day, some of them stay with their masters. There are also some who stay in a common room when they’re not with guests. A lot of them are thankful for their situation. They’ve been in worse places. We keep them fed, give them a place to live, and medical attention.”
“So, in your fucked up mind, you’re a hero?” I bit my lip then shoved a mouthful of cereal in my mouth, just to keep myself busy.
“Why don’t you tell me otherwise?” He stood and I nearly slid out of my seat to the floor. “Tell me where you’d be if not for me.”
“I….” I didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t know.”
“You do know.” Resting both palms on the table, he leaned toward me. “What would Gabe and his friends have done to you?”
“I don’t know,” I yelled louder as if that would make it truer.
Kirk didn’t move.
I fisted my hands and dropped them into my lap, leaning back in my chair. “They would have beaten me.”
Kirk raised his eyebrows.
My voice dropped to a whisper. I didn’t want to think about the details. They’d crossed my mind, but I didn’t want to allow them the validity of passing through my lips. “And raped me. And probably killed me.”
As the first tear trailed down my cheek, the anger rose again. “But tell me, how is their raping me any different from what you’re doing? What you’re going to do? You’re not beating me, but—”
“It’s not,” he admitted, sliding back into his seat. “But there’s a big difference in the final result.”
I took a slow breath, unable to believe that he’d just admitted that. The world slowed to a frightening pace while my brain raced around with images and thoughts I didn’t want to consider. I took another bite of cereal, barely managing to swallow it as the emotions tightened in my throat—but at least eating gave me something else to concentrate on. I glanced up to see Kirk paying more attention to something on his phone than me.
An infuriating relief. A reminder that he wanted nothing to do with me, even though my future depended entirely on him.
I choked down the rest of the cereal and slid the empty bowl across the table. Kirk put it in the sink and rinsed it out. “I’ll be here for another hour and then I have a meeting. I suggest you take care of business,” he nodded toward the bathroom, “before then.”
“Can I take a shower?” I asked, hoping to wash away the filth that had coated me since yesterday. Even though I realized that most of the filth was in my head and the water wouldn’t help.
Kirk nodded. “Door stays open—I don’t care what you need to do, don’t argue this time.”
“Got it,” I mumbled I started to drop out of my seat, back to my sore knees, but Kirk caught my arm.
“Sorry, Master.” I hoped correcting myself before he did would earn me a smidgen of karma in his book. “I’ll leave the door open, Master.”
“Next time work on conviction.” He released my arm. “If you can follow orders, you don’t have to crawl through the apartment.”
Close enough to good karma. I walked away, still cursing the fact that my lack of clothes didn’t even matter. I had nothing left to hide and nowhere left to do it.
*****
As I stood under the hot stream of the shower, I took a mouth full of the hot water then let the stream fall over my face before spitting the water into the drain.
Fucked and tied with no way out. Kirk knew everything about this place, yet he claimed he was only keeping me because there was no way out.
I was convinced there had to be a way; I just had to find some kind of weakness. And some way to remove the damn collar and cuffs. All I managed to do was think myself around in a circle.
I pressed my back against the shower wall as my mind ran through a futile cycle of the things I could be asked to do before I figured a way out. Taking a deep breath, I splashed a pool of water over my face, wanting nothing more than to break apart and sink into a pool of flesh and bone.
But I was too damn stubborn for that. No easy way out. No escape. And yet, I couldn’t even do what I was told in order to survive.
One day at a time—hell, one hour at a time, I told myself.
I turned off the shower and pushed back the curtain, glaring at my reflection in the mirror, my body marred by black and blue marks. I wrapped a towel around myself and crept toward the open doorway.
As I entered the living room, Kirk glanced up—a quick glance as if he didn’t plan on actually paying any attention to me, but then his gaze stuck and he arched an eyebrow.
“You want me to put the same clothes on again or…?” Do I just run around naked all day? My brain filled in where my mouth had stopped.
“No,” he sighed. “I guess you could use something else.”
He stood and nodded toward the bedroom. Such a simple gesture, but every time he stood, I felt a new lump of dread. At least the towel provided more coverage than I’d had in a while, but knowing that he was walking behind me, just out of my sight—no amount of covering would matter.
He opened a drawer and then tossed me one of his black tank tops. I stared down at it and blinked. Bright si
de, I told myself, at least it isn’t pleather or see-through.
When I didn’t move, he reached to my chest and yanked off the towel. “Let me help you with that.” His voice sounded like a Mack truck driving over a patch of gravel.
Before he decided to “help” further, I stretched the tank over my head. The straps came down to my nipples, barely widening enough to hide them. The bottom hem rested halfway down my thigh. At least, it was longer than the outfit I’d traded it for, and it was soft.
“Now what?” I asked.
Kirk shrugged, “I can put in another butt plug.”
I clenched at the thought. “Do I get a choice?”
His chest rose and fell as his gaze drifted down to my chest. With a nod, he directed me to the living room. He returned to his seat at the desk near the rear wall then pointed to the floor at his feet.
“I’m not a fucking dog.” This time the thought slipped out, and my eyes widened. At this rate, I knew there was no way I wasn’t going to end up getting myself killed.
He barely had to move, just a flash of his eyes, and I took my position next to him, dropping to my knees. I cursed him silently as my shoulders slumped and my head dropped.
“Smart girl,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to die,” the quiet words slipped out.
Kirk leaned forward and tilted up my face. “Don’t. No more crying.”
“Why? You have a soft spot for crying girls or does it just piss you off?” Once again, my rogue tongue was getting the best of me.
“Neither, but Ross does get a kick out of it. He loves making girls cry, so if you don’t learn to control it now….” He trailed off. “I’m not giving you a reason to cry at the moment, so don’t.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Follow orders and stop thinking.” He slammed something down on the desk above me. “And for fuck’s sake, stop talking.”
I opened my mouth but caught the words before they spilled out. Stop thinking? It wasn’t the words that I thought about that got me in trouble. It was the ones that slipped out without consideration. I sighed and put my head down.
