by Liz K. Lorde
“Oh, Leo,” I say, purposely making my voice breathy, “I think you’ve done this before.”
I swear I get another real laugh at that one. Short and quiet, sure, but real, nonetheless.
I wriggle my hips a little for emphasis, feeling his free hand snake up to still me.
“Stop moving,” he demands, returning to his surly demeanor.
I’m about ready to do it again—hell, I’ll do a jig if it gets his fucking hackles up—but he reaches my underwear in the next second.
Some things just aren’t worth the risk.
I feel the knife pull at delicate lace, hear the way it slips easily through it. It’s not long before I feel the same lace pool around my feet, effectively destroyed in no time at all.
Considering the current location of his head, I’m actually a little surprised when he doesn’t even slow.
Focused as ever, he slides the box cutter through the remainder of my dress, slitting the hem easily and letting it fall to the floor.
I glance down at it, honestly not even a little upset to see it go.
It really was a fucking ugly dress.
Like I said, I’d rather die naked.
He stands up straight as he finishes his task, his eyes once again shining across at me.
“Aw,” I whine, “done so soon?”
He rolls his eyes.
“Then how about you let me out of these next?” I say innocently, staring up towards my restraints.
If I have to hear a humorless laugh one more time, I swear I’m gonna lose my shit.
“Nice try,” he says simply.
Son of a bitch.
“Look, asshole,” I shout, “I’ve had about enough of whatever the hell this is, so why don’t you be a good boy, go fetch the keys, and let me out of these fucking things!”
He doesn’t answer, simply reaches down to pick up the remains of my dress instead.
“Hey!” I shout again.
Nothing. Not even a glance in my direction.
He takes a section of my dress in either hand, pulling at the fabric until he tears off a single, long strip.
“What the hell are you doing now?” I ask, watching as he further mutilates my clothes.
He turns back to me quickly, crossing the space between us in a flash of movement.
“Enough,” he says, his voice eerily calm.
“The hell—”
I feel the fabric press into my open mouth, the taste of cheap material heavy on my tongue.
Again, with disturbing ease, he reaches behind my head, cinching the fabric into a tight knot at the base of my skull.
I scream angrily into it, the sound infuriatingly muffled now.
He looks levelly at me, that eerily calm expressing cemented back onto his face.
“Scream all you want, sweetheart,” he tells me, a flash of something—pity?—in his eyes as he points behind him with a jerk of his thumb. “They’ll like that.”
Chapter 5
Leo
So perhaps it’s not as simple of a job as I first thought.
Usually, girls like Kristen—who wake up hung from the ceiling and alone in a dark warehouse with only me for company—freak the fuck out. They really, really, don’t react well to it.
And, you know, they shouldn’t.
But Kristen? She’s standing there almost as naked as the day she was born, and she’s alone with a man who’s admitted to roofie-ing her…and she’s what? Flirting with me?
What’s wrong with her?
What’s wrong with me, in that I find it so fucking hot?
As I take a step back from her, box cutter still in hand, and look at how her chest rises and falls now that she’s been gagged, I can feel myself stirring in my pants. Kristen is so powerless right now, tied up and open to me, but she’s acting as though she’s still totally in charge.
All she wants to do is hit on me like I’m the one standing only in my pants, talking shit like she’s the hero of her own action movie. Her whole personality has got me thinking of all the ways I could make her mine. How it would be so much fun to run my hands down her tight body, and to play with her breasts and turn her on until she can’t take it.
I’d make her moan and scream my name until she forgot her own.
But I won’t. I can’t. Even though she’s the first girl to make me hot like this, I’m not going to cave now.
Not when my freedom is so close I can practically taste it.
What’s worse, maybe, for Kristen and me, is that she doesn’t even realize how dumb she’s being. By teasing me like this, she’s just proving to Oberon and anyone else who’s watching that she’s going to be a worthwhile investment. You’d think she’d at least try to be unattractive…but no.
Footsteps begin to echo though the darkness, and I turn my head towards the source. Slowly, Lawson’s face begins to appear through the darkness, and he looks from me towards Kristen, as a smile curls over his lips.
“Well, would you look at that?”
Lawson is eyeing Kristen like she’s some kind of tender steak spread out in front of him, and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips as he takes in the sight of her suspended, nearly naked, and writhing for her freedom.
“What took you so long?”
“It was the wedding of two people I was close to, Leo,” Lawson says as though it’s obvious. “If I’d left early, people would have gotten suspicious.”
As though they all don’t know the rumors.
I don’t reply to Lawson out loud and instead turn back to Kristen, and motion to her lazily with the box cutter, “Well?”
“You’ve done well, Leo. The wedding wasn’t an easy place to lift her from.”
“Having the champagne covered helped.”
Lawson looks at me knowingly, and a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, I suppose it did.”
He walks up to Kristen, who glares at him with unbridled fire and stands up straight. Like any kind of trapped animal, she’s trying to make herself appear as big as possible, but it’s no use.
“Will you be bidding on her?” I ask, watching Lawson as he carefully inspects her body. “She’s a real firecracker, might be your type.”
Lawson considers it for a minute, but shakes his head as he steps back. “No. Not on this one…I’ve got my eye on someone else.”
I hold in a little sigh of relief, and try not to think about why, as Lawson continues speaking, “I’m not the only one missing out today. Marks, Jacey, and Whitman are also passing on this one.”
“It’s probably for the best. They like their girls nice and obedient without having to go through a training phase.”
“Yes, exactly.”
I hear other footsteps walking into the room, a whole crowd. But these men won’t show their faces and step into the light. They never do.
I know it’s smart—because then their identity isn’t compromised—but it’s also so fucking cowardly.
If you’re going to have the balls to buy a girl like she’s a prize cow, at least have the balls to show your face at the market.
Lawson takes a step into the center of the beam alongside Kristen, and smacks her on the ass so that she stands up straight.
“You’re a gambler,” he says to her, tormenting. “How much do you want to bet that these men will want to go all in?”
The innuendo makes my skin crawl, but all I have to do is stand here and watch, and then, it’ll be over.
Kristen glares at him, her eyes narrowed to slits and, for a second, I think she’s going to spit at him. “Fuck you.”
Lawson laughs and turns away.
“So, let’s say we open the bidding at half a million—which is the first time I’ve actually suggested someone should steal from me.”
Lawson’s laughter echoes throughout the hall, and there’s a brief pause as the men in the shadows respectfully wait for him to finish. Then, the calamity begins.
I see the flash of paddle boards as they rise into the ai
r, and shouts from voices all around the room compete to claim ownership over Kristen and her sweet ass.
All I do is sit back and watch it happen, keeping track of how high the bids instantly rise for a chance to ‘tame’ a girl like Kristen. It’s fucked up. Honestly, it’s so fucked up.
This is why it’ll be my last time helping Lawson do this. I don’t want to be a part of a gang that buys and sells women like they’re not people but rather treasured collectable dolls. Even though some of them are into it—which is worse, if you ask me, but who am I to judge—most of them aren’t.
I take one look at Kristen and realize she’s definitely not. Every muscle in her body is tense, and she’s holding herself together, staring into the darkness with an equally dark hatred in her eyes.
If she was a dog in this situation, she’d be snarling—snapping and biting at everyone who came close to her. Her chest is heaving with ragged breaths, and she struggles on her heels; she’s leaning backward and forward and sticking her ass out so that the men can see her from all angles.
Kristen doesn’t realize just how much her struggle is making everyone just want her more. It’s sick; it really is. But I know from previous auctions that a lot of the men in the crowd are a fan of girls who need to be broken in.
Come on, Leo. One more auction, and it will all be over for you. You’ll get paid, you’ll be able to tell Oberon Lawson to go fuck himself, and then, you’ll be free.
I keep repeating it in my head, over and over again, trying not to look at Kristen and get distracted. It’s fucked up that she’s here, and it’s fucked up that I’m still attracted to her.
So, it’s best for everyone if I just keep my head down and wait for the money to run out until there’s one bidder left.
Though the bids show no sign of stopping. Each new voice has a larger sum of money than another, and they’re all eager—almost desperate to take Kristen for themselves. It’s frantic and manic.
It’s savage; they’re treating her as though she’s less than a person, and it slowly dawns on me why.
Not many girls that come through here have as much fire as Kristen does.
These men don’t want to just break her sexually and make her their slave—although that’s still fucked up.
They want to break her completely. They want to take that fire and douse it. They want to crush her spirit until Kristen is the shell of who she is.
All because they’re fucking cowards who’re scared of a strong woman.
Don’t do it.
I watch Kristen struggle and curse out Lawson every time he gets too close to her. She’s racked up a lot of debt…but she doesn’t deserve this. I don’t think anyone really deserves this.
I can’t.
I take a deep breath and clear my throat, though no one notices.
I have to.
I step forward and catch Lawson’s eye. He raises an eyebrow at me as we stare each other, and I’m almost surprised at the calmness of my own voice when I say, “Two million dollars.”
Lawson’s face cracks into a disbelieving smile as he waves the rest of the bidders into silence.
“Two million?” He asks. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“You heard me.”
I step toward him, one hand outstretched for him to give Kristen to me.
“That’s almost double—”
I speak over him. I don’t even care that I’m interrupting. “I know.”
Lawson chuckles a little bit and uncuffs Kristen, shoving her toward me. She falls into my arms. I catch her and hold her safely against my chest—even as she fucking glares at me for it.
So much for one last job.
Chapter 6
Kristen
My arms feel like they’re about to fall out of their sockets.
I feel like a piñata. I’ve been strung up and pretty much verbally beaten senseless. Now I’m tired…and hollow.
The roofie and the fucking perverts bidding on me have knocked out all my candy.
Now I’m one of those piñatas that teenagers fill with wasps, and you can bet your ass that the next person to take a swing at me is going to wish that they’d never even heard the name Kristen Jones.
I fall into Leo’s arms, trying my best to hold myself up in my heels and tattered bridesmaid dress.
He catches me—like a real gentleman—and holds me against his chest. If I wasn’t so fucking tired I’d start swinging punches like I was Bruce Willis. But I can barely lift my arms to push off him, let alone manage to knock his ass to the floor.
But, as Leo pulls the gag out of my mouth, I can at least tear him a whole new one.
“You, fucking cock-sucking, jerk-off, shit-eating, motherfucker! You’re a limp-dicked, cum-stained son of a bitch. You bastard—”
Then the gag is shoved back in my mouth, silencing me. As he sticks his fingers into my mouth, I try to bite him, but Leo snatches his hand back just in time.
“Lawson. Chuck me the handcuffs,” he says, speaking over my head as though I’m not even there.
The crowd of bidders are starting to snicker and laugh at me; the silence of Leo declaring he’d pay two million dollars for me is finally breaking.
“Of course,” Lawson says with a smirk and tosses the handcuffs to Leo, who catches them effortlessly in one hand as he continues to hold me up. “You’ll probably need them.”
Leo chuckles darkly and joins in with the chorus of laughing men all around the room.
Every muscle in my body wants to shrink away and disappear, so that they can’t see me anymore and the laughter will stop.
But I fight against my instincts and try to stand up straight, taking a step back away from Lawson and trying to find the strength to stand up straight and hold my dress close over my lingerie.
I manage one meager step before another wave of exhaustion crashes into and washes over me, knocking me forward and into Leo’s arms as he takes my hands—letting my dress fall open and my breasts fall out—and shuts the handcuffs around them once more.
“Let’s go,” Leo growls into my ear and tugs me forward.
My heels click clack on the floor as I struggle to keep up with him, and so he half-drags me into the darkness and then out the door. The blinding sunlight hits my eyes, and I try to turn my head away from it and into Leo’s chest.
“Look at that, you want to cuddle already,” he jokes, but his voice is dark and there’s no humor to be found there.
Instantly, I jerk my head away and try to stand independently again. As I do, Leo takes the gag out from between my lips, and I’m out to open my mouth and curse him again, when he lifts a finger to my lips, silencing me.
“Don’t. It’s not cute.”
“I don’t care about being cute for you.”
“You should.”
I roll my eyes, still handcuffed, and try to take a step away from him. But Leo follows me and blocks the path in a heartbeat. I never really stood a chance.
“Why should I?”
“Because you’re mine now,” he says, and though we both know it’s true, there’s still a hint of sarcasm in his voice, as though he doesn’t quite believe what he’s saying.
“Oh, yeah, I remember, you drop a cool two million dollars, and then suddenly you get to own me. Well, fuck you, Leo. No one owns me.”
“Keep telling yourself, princess. Because if I wasn’t the highest bidder, then one of those cretins in there would have been.”
“Good,” I say, trying to get a rise out of him—to prove that he doesn’t own me. “Maybe one of them would have, at least, let me walk out of there on my own.”
“That’s funny. Any other man would have pushed you onto your knees and made you crawl out. You would never know what it’s like to walk on two feet again.”
I roll my eyes, “You don’t know that—”
“I do know that!” Leo raises his voice a little and narrows his eyes until they’re totally dark. “You have no idea what world of shit and pain I’
ve just saved you from.”
“Yeah, because you’re humiliating me like that is clearly what an old-fashioned super-hero would do!”
If he wants to get loud, then I can, too.
“What did you think was going to happen, that I was just going to spend everything I’ve got on you and then let you wander on home like a stray?” Leo scoffs and turns away from me. “You’re not worth losing my head over, Kristen.”
“Then let me go. Undo the handcuffs, and you will never fucking see me again.” I push my bound wrists towards him, though I don’t really know what I’m expecting.
“No. I can’t.”
I roll my eyes, and it’s my turn to scoff at him in disbelief.
“I knew it.” I say, keeping my hands out still. “You’re just a perv who wants to fuck me. Only you needed a roofie to do it.”
“You’re right,” he says, looking up at me, then dropping his gaze down to my exposed tits and how they’re practically falling out of my bra and my ruined dress. “I did want to fuck you.”
Leo grabs my wrists before I can even realize what’s happening, lifting them up above my head again and drawing out a whimper as the muscle in my arms jolt from the soreness. He pushes me back against the wall, his body easily surrounding me and leaving me nowhere to escape to.
He lifts a knee between my legs, just barely brushing against my panties. Although he’s barely touching me, I know that he can feel how wet I am. I know that I shouldn’t be, but there’s something pretty hot about being fought over and wanted by so many different men.
Leo is so close to me, too. I feel his breath brush over my hot skin as he corners me. No doubt he can smell how turned I am, too.
“I did want to fuck you.” He repeats, “I do want to fuck you.”
I lift my chin up and look at him challengingly. If he wants me so bad, why doesn’t he just try it? My wrists may be bound, but I’m not going down without a fight.
“I could just take you, right now. Perhaps I should… It’s not like anyone would give a shit. I bet if I made you scream for me right now people would come out here and watch, and the only thing they’d feel is jealousy…because I’m the one that’s got you.”
My heart is pounding in my chest. I know that he’s telling the truth—we’d all heard rumors about Oberon Lawson’s criminal activity, and now that it’s true… I’m fucked.
