c2083

L aughter. Moaning. Light music. A buzz of joyous, outgoing voices. The festivities had been going on for hours. With the door to my cell cracked open, I could hear the crowd of people in the other rooms enjoying the time they spent together. But I wasn't invited. With a shackle around one of my ankles tied to a five-foot chain, the only place I could reach was the small toilet in the corner of my tiny room.

How long had I been here now? Three days? Five? A little over a week? I wasn't even sure as the hours blurred together. I stayed on constant alert. I waited for the killer woman to come back to finish me off. She hadn't returned at all. At least not to me. If I ate, it was because my new Master, Jack, brought me food. He didn't talk much, but I could see him studying me. I didn't trust him any more than I trusted my Mistress, Georgie.

It was so hard thinking of anyone having ownership over a human life in this day and age, but it was real. I was living it. The isolation had given me plenty of time to try to decipher what I had learned, and I still couldn't quite grasp how this was possible. An underground city. A military installation allowing these atrocities. Was the government possibly running it? This was bigger than Gilbert Marks. Maybe even scarier than him too, and I never thought that possible. Then again…he knew about this place. He came here . To buy slaves? Kill them? Of course . He was a Master here, and I was going to die. If I was lucky, it'd be in this very room and not his.

"Yep. Just like yours. Restroom is right through there."

At Georgie's voice, my shoulders straightened, and I turned more towards the door. I didn't expect her to open the barrier between us the rest of the way. She hadn't yet, and I knew she'd been in their room a handful of times. It had to be late in the evening. Possibly even nighttime. We'd all been up for hours. Not that time really existed for me. Meals were sporadic, if I got one at all. I was lucky to even have the door cracked. It never was.

"Mistress?"

Seconds passed as I waited. No footsteps. No acknowledgement.

"Mistress?" I got quiet, continuing to stare at the door as my mind raced. I had no idea why I was calling her. I didn't need anything…yet…I needed so much more than I could even conceive in a single thought. I needed answers. Communication. Clues.

The door opened, and the beauty of the woman before me had every ounce of sanity leaving. I'd seen her that first night, but this was different. Light blonde hair was piled high on her head with tiny whisps of loose curls stopping just above her shoulders. Green eyes were dark yet vibrant in their hypnotizing color, only enhanced by the mauve eyeshadow with winged liner. The black dress was mid-thigh and tight, fitting her hourglass figure as she leaned to rest her bare shoulder against the doorframe. I took in the calm, even lax expression she held as she studied me. Full lips twitched through her thoughts, and I tried to keep my gaze on her stare instead of dropping to the swell of her breasts that were exposed from the low-cut material that molded to them.

"You called me. What is it, slave?"

I swallowed hard. This woman…I'd seen what she'd done. I knew the kind of evil she harbored. Looking at her now, I would have never suspected.

"I…" I stopped. "Do you need anything from me?"

"Need anything?" Her eyebrows drew in for a moment, disappearing as she threw me a vibrant smile. "So odd you ask. I've been thinking about you all night. Why, yes. I am a little bored. I think I do need something." She glanced up and down my body, taking in my shirtless appearance. "You haven't showered. No worries. You can jump in real quick and then join us."

"Join you? For the party?"

I knew my mistake immediately. I wasn't being invited to spend time with a group of friends. I was being thrown into a circle of killers as bait. As entertainment.

"Georgie-baby? You okay?"

I knew the voice immediately. Georgie looked over her shoulder, glancing back, but returning her stare to me.

"I'm good. Our slave just wanted to know if there was anything he could do for me. Isn't that sweet?" She paused at the female voice, turning to nod. A door sounded, closing behind the woman who'd used the bathroom. "So…I find myself needing him. Shower time. Do you have the key, sweetie?"

Jack stepped into view, handing it over. Every step she took that brought her closer had his eyes narrowing even more. He watched me like a lion, ready to eat me alive as she lowered to crouch at my feet. I was no fool. One wrong move, one kick or attempt to attack would land me on the ground in a puddle of blood. I wasn't sure if my Mistress had a weapon on her, but I'd already seen her fight. She didn't need one to take my life.

"You'll make it quick. We'll be waiting."

She stood, standing to remain only inches from my face. Her perfume for some reason made my mouth water. It had my mind racing as I tried to decipher if I'd ever seen a woman so…beautiful and alluring. No, she was absolutely perfect.

"Any funny business, and I stop being polite. You'll find no weapons in this apartment. You attempt to create one, and I'll spend the rest of the night killing you with it. Got it?"

I glanced at Jack, returning to gaze into bright green eyes. Any spell I'd been under vanished at the hardness of her features.

"I'll be good."

"See that you are."

She turned, and her and Jack left the room, disappearing out of their bedroom door before I could force myself to move.

Kill me. I wasn't going to need a weapon for her to do that. Besides, freedom didn't exist with that path. I needed time. I needed…what? To be saved? To be kept alive? Did I? Did I want to live in a world where I was owned? Where I might run into Gilbert Marks, the devil, himself?

I headed to the shower. Owned. Perhaps it wasn't that far off from the real world. Above ground had laws. We still had to be obedient to employers, alliances, friends, and family. In my world, death could come as easily as it came here. Was it really so different being owned by Georgie or Jack? I was guessing Gilbert Marks wasn't nearly as beautiful as my Mistress. There could be perks to being her slave. Perks…until her husband put a bullet in my head or stuck his knife in my throat for looking at her the wrong way. He'd almost killed me just from speaking her name. I definitely couldn't let my mind dance around any forbidden ideas.

Shutting the door, I was quick about going to the restroom and getting in the shower. I wasn't sure what my Mistress considered fast, but I wasn't going to waste time. I grabbed the soap, lathering up. When my fingers pushed through the thickness on my cheeks, I frowned, gripping the growth on my face.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd shaved. It had to have been a month or two. Sure, we were given razors, but we were monitored and got them taken away the moment we finished using them. It was too much of a hassle to worry about when staying alive was the primary focus. Even more, it was odd showering without worrying about getting beat or having my ass raped.

"It's time to shave that off. New razors are under the sink. I got you some clothes."

My head jerked up, and I wiped the steam from the glass, meeting Georgie's stare. My pulse jumped, and I tried my hardest not to react to her presence. Her hips swaying as she got closer blew away any chance of that. I could feel my cock hardening, despite I kept my focus on her face.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"I bet you do. Are you hungry?"

She asked, but she wasn't keeping my stare anymore. She was back to raking her gaze over my body, and I knew the somewhat foggy glass wasn't hiding what she wanted to see. My mind raced and my gaze darted to the door, half expecting Jack to come barging in. Guilt left me pausing on what to do or say.

"Yeah…a little." Again, I looked towards the door. "Where's…my Master?"

"Hmm." Her smile and the small beginnings of a laugh ended almost as fast as they began. "He's entertaining, of course. He knows I'm here. He doesn't mind. Truthfully…he even likes it, although sometimes more than others. It's been a while, though. For good reason, of course."

I swallowed hard.

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Oh, you do. It's just hard for you to grasp. That's okay. At your rank, there's no need for you to make sense of it. Your life is orders. You see, if I tell you to fuck me, you do it. If I tell you to lick and suck my pussy until I come, you do it. You do everything I say, and nothing of what I don't. This is about my needs, not yours. If I want to get off, that doesn't mean you get to. And if I do this all against my husband's wishes because he doesn't like you, guess who deals with the consequences of that?" She stepped closer. "I'll give you a hint… it's not me ."

"He'll kill me if I touch you."

Her smile was radiant as she placed the gray sweatpants on the counter.

"Possibly. Luckily for you, it's not my pussy you're going to be having." Her head gestured down to my hard cock that was now dripping pre-cum at the forbidden fantasy that was also a death wish. "I have friends over, and you never know what might happen. You might want to take care of that before you come out. You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself or disappoint anyone."

She turned and a dash of panic had me reaching up to touch the glass.

"What do you mean?" Although I heard the moans, I still had to ask. "What sort of party is going on out there?"

My Mistress didn't miss a beat in her steady steps.

"The fun kind, slave. The only kind of parties I throw."