B0114

My mind was blank. In my peripheral I could see Pistol’s friend Anthem wrapping around the slave, and with how fast my heart was racing only one song would come to me. But could I sing it out loud? For this? The memories of my mom singing it to me as a child, the love I had as I sung it to Kyle as he grew, it would be tainted with this new life. Yet, nothing else would present itself as my Master kissed over my hand. He was scrambling my brain again, warping my fear with lust.

“I…” my head shook as a last warning, but there was no escaping what song wanted to be sung.

“You can do it.”

Tears filled my eyes, and I cleared my throat. “Feeling Good. I’m sure you know it.”

“Excellent choice,” Anthem purred, rocking him and the slave. I didn’t have to turn to see their sway, it was almost nonstop as his face moved into her neck and she choked on her sob.

“I do know it. We even have a cover in our own style, but I want to hear yours. I’ll make it easy and sing you in with the note. When we hit the chorus, I’ll start playing the guitar. Feel the flow and perform as if we’re not here. Let your mind take you back to where you feel safe. Back to where you want to be. Nothing exists but that moment. Sit up straight.” I obeyed as he ran his hand up my back. “Push from here.” Pistol’s palm flattened on my diaphragm, emphasizing what he meant. “Do not whisper. Do not stop for anything. You’re to sing loud and with everything you have. When this starts, the last thing you want to do is make me angry. You’ve seen me in that state of mind before. Sing. Even if you have to start over and repeat it again, and again, and again. Whatever you do, don’t stop until I tell you. Do you understand?”

“Master, please. I promise it won’t happen again. Master.” The slave cried harder, jerking against the large giant of a man behind her.

My body was on adrenaline overdrive as I nodded, trying to ignore the two who sat in the middle of the living room. My teeth chattered, and I felt sick as Pistol’s eyes closed and he took in a long and deep breath. I did the same, closing my eyes to find my mom and son. To find that place back in our old house after we’d moved from the rape. That’s when the good times started. Not at first, but when Kyle was born. It brought me and my mom closer together.

A hum filled the room, a soothing, almost haunting sound as Pistol started the melody. I grasped to the pitch with everything I had. To the beat. To the flow, like he’d mentioned. When my part started, I was too afraid not to begin as I should. But I was also holding my infant son, and my heart wanted him to hear me sing to him. To show him how much I loved him despite how we’d been brought together or torn apart. Once he was born, the past didn’t matter. I hadn’t been expecting that part. What I had prepared for was an obligation. The love I felt when his eyes first met mine was unlike anything I knew. It was a mother’s love, and although I was young and didn’t know the first thing about being a grown up or even a woman, my heart knew what to do. Just like right now as cries and pleas intensified. My place was cemented into the very floor my feet rested on. The slave in me, as well as the mother in me, sang. And sang.

Screams turned blood-curdling, shocked, and horrified through her high pitch. My eyes opened to stare at the wall, and I continued. It was only as the thuds vibrated through my feet and into every inch of me that I heard Pistol singing and playing his guitar with me. We were in tune. In perfect harmony. We sounded…good together. Almost one, yet in two completely different voices.

As my eyes met his, he was all I saw. All I wanted to see. Something stirred in my chest at his smile, and I could almost block out the gurgling and sharp gasps off to my side. The sounds were turning quieter as if the slave was losing her fight. Her life. And I supposed she was. After all, it was inevitable, just like with me. Some day I’d be her, I’d be killed, but I wouldn’t think about that now. I couldn’t as Pistol’s hand left his guitar to trail over my cheek.

Naturally, I leaned into his touch, closing my lids all over again as I continued the song. The darkness didn’t last as he slid his hand, wrapping to the back of my head. I took in the lust burning in his eyes. He put his guitar down, leading me to straddle his lap. I kept wanting to look behind me. To stop singing and hide from his friend, but I knew better than to do either one.

“I knew you’d sound amazing. I fucking knew it.”

A moan tangled with a grunt from behind and my Master put his finger to my lips, reaching for a remote on the end table. Music began to play, but not anything I’d heard before. His hands came up gripping the thin spaghetti straps, pulling them down my arms until the V-cut nightgown fell from my breasts.

Back and forth his head shook before he leaned forward, sucking against them. I still couldn’t breathe right, and my pulse pounded. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to speak tomorrow, if I had a voice left at all. How long had gone by I didn’t know. How many times I’d gone through the chorus had to have been more than I could guess. Or maybe time just seemed to drag on even though it hadn’t. Nothing felt right. I was drained yet more alive than ever, and I didn’t understand why. Shock? Perhaps. It didn’t matter if it was me or someone else. Death wasn’t easy to face when it was the one thing I was running from the most.

“Perfect. Absolutely…perfect. Such a fitting name for you. I see no flaws. How is that possible? It makes no sense. Are we so much alike, Ashlee?”

I couldn’t speak as he sucked my nipple harder, moving to bite his way across my chest. The sensations were stealing me away. They were taking my insecurities. Erasing anything my Master didn’t want.

My fingers weaved through his short hair, molding to the back of his head. I drew him closer, pushing my breasts more into his face. I was moaning; I knew that. And it wasn’t soft or subtle. The arousing tone was a statement. A show to my Master. It was truth. Perhaps it was even an offering from the slave who’d completely given herself to him in every way she could. I was trying to live up to my name, wasn’t I? I refused to fail and not be what he needed. I’d make this work, even if I lost myself trying to make it happen. That’s what I’d been taught. Trained. That’s what would keep me alive.

“Master.”

Pistol hurriedly shifted underneath me, his belt clinking in his haste to get it undone. The moment he entered me…bliss. I was being lifted, moved. The room spun and his lips crushed into mine as my back crashed into the sofa. I cried out, my head turning as he moved to suck hard against my neck. The moment my lids opened, all I saw was a bloody face staring right at me. The slave was on the floor, her entire throat nothing but a mangled mess of shredded, chewed mush. Part of what I thought might be her windpipe was exposed, and a chunk of her lip was dangling near her cheek. Crimson was smeared all over the floor, pooling around her shoulders and up by her head. Although I wasn’t looking down farther, I could see Anthem touching her. Doing…things to her. What, I didn’t know for sure, but maybe my mind didn’t want to know. Maybe it was blocking out what was so obvious to my subconscious.

Fingers brought my face back up. Where I expected wrath for my disobedience, all I got was a hard kiss and slow fucking as my Master squeezed hard into my ass through his thrust.

“Get used to it.” His fingers buried in my hair, keeping my attention on him. “This is only the beginning. It’s going to get a lot worse. There will be times you will help me kill slaves I buy. If it’s going to be us, I’m going to want that from you. Do you want to be with me here? Be mine?”

I nodded, the horror of what I saw already fading as he ground his cock into me.

“Are you sure you can handle that life?”

“I can. I was trained for this.”

“And you’ll do anything I say?”

A whimper left me as his fingers tightened painfully at my scalp. It triggered something, morphing the pleasure into a different type of desire.

“Anything.”

“What if you learn things about me you may not be okay with? Things that may be shocking? Disgusting to you, even. Would you still want to be with me like this?”

I searched his eyes as he brushed his lips over mine in the softest kiss.

“My loyalty or feelings will not waver.”

“Don’t be so sure of that. You’ll be tested sooner than you think, and we’ll see just how deep your loyalty or feelings go. What you learn may change everything. Death may not seem so bad when faced with the alternative. You may beg me to kill you.”

The words caused my arousal to waver, but Pistol didn’t let it for long. He was back to teasing my breasts. To sucking my neck and kissing me. There was such passion and longing in everything he did with me that what he spoke almost seemed impossible. The actions swept me away, building up my bravery for whatever lay ahead. I’d be strong. I’d stand my ground and know my place. It was by his side as his slave, no matter what.

“Ashlee.” My name was moaned as he lifted my leg, pushing even deeper. He was making sounds, and I was starting to make them again too. Anthem’s didn’t escape me either. It was all too much, and yet as my lust grew, it wasn’t enough. My brain kept looping through Pistol’s worry of my loyalty. He didn’t show it, but the slave in me new what my Master wanted. I’d been trained to read between the lines. I’d been taught to face situations in a mindset that would best make my Master happy. Right now, it was to enjoy this. That meant I needed to arch my hips and come all over his cock. To state his title to make him feel superior over me. All of which I had down to an art. Not that I didn’t enjoy it or that it didn’t come naturally. It did, but I wasn’t stupid, either.

“Master. Yes, right there. Master.” My head lifted as my orgasm was right on the edge. Both my legs drew up even higher, and I clawed into Pistol’s back, my legs kicking out as he shifted his hips and added friction to my clit. Spasms hit hard, and I wrapped around him as he continued through the thrusts that brought me to release.

“That’s what I like to hear.” His hand gripped to my face, holding tightly as he turned to watch the dead slave and his friend. His attention stayed there through the increased roughness of his thrusts. Harder and harder he slammed into me, his grip lowering to my throat as he locked on. I knew better than to move as he began to squeeze. “Fuck. God…fuck.”

The cushion underneath did little to protect against the powerful pounding. The slap of our skin was like drums in my ears as sound began to waver. I couldn’t breathe. There was so much pressure in my face, I was sure every blood vessel in my eyes were going to rupture. My lips felt numb and huge and just as I saw my Master’s blurry body fading out…air.

I gasped, coughing as cum pumped into me. Words were being spoken, but what Pistol or Anthem was saying as my Master’s thrusts slowed was beyond me. I was on a high I didn’t ever want to come down from. My body felt everything, and I wanted to stay in this moment for as long as I could. If I was here, I wasn’t being tested. If I was here…I couldn’t fail.