Forced Submission (4 page)

Even in the throes of the powerful climax, she realized
Ellis had pulled his hands away, and his lips were no longer pressed against
hers. When she came to herself enough to open her eyes, Mia gasped with dismay
at the hard expression of the handsome man staring down at her. The brief,
sharp pleasure of the orgasm ebbed away, replaced by a rush of stark fear.

Mia screamed in pain as Ellis grabbed both her nipples in a
pinching grip and twisted hard. Then he slapped her face, a sharp, stinging
blow with the back of his hand that jerked her head to the side and made tears
spring into her eyes.

“You came without permission, slut.” He slapped her again
and Mia began to cry in earnest. “That simply won’t do. I’ll leave you now to
ponder your transgression. When I come back, I’ll teach you how to apologize
properly to your Master.”

Before Mia could protest or plead or beg, Ellis stood and
strode from the room, closing the door behind him and leaving her, naked, bound
and sobbing in her bed.

Chapter 3

Ellis finished his sandwich and glass of beer and picked up
his iPad, which he’d propped on the counter so he could watch Mia while he ate.
The home security monitoring system with cameras installed in every room of his
home certainly would come in handy for keeping tabs on his slave girl.

His slave girl!

As he stared at Mia’s image on the screen, he was filled
with a blend of elation and disbelief. He had done it! He had successfully
procured a young woman and claimed her for his own and nobody, not a single person
in the world outside this house, knew he’d done it.

He’d retrieved her purse from where she’d dropped it in the
bedroom. He found her cell phone, an ancient thing with a flip-up cover. He
checked for any texts or voice messages but there were none. Just to be safe,
he slipped off the back cover and removed the battery, and then dumped the
pieces back into her fake leather bag. He dug past makeup, a pack of gum, loose
change and a small, well-thumbed book of what looked like affirmations. Finally
he found what he was looking for zipped into a side pocket—a wallet that
contained her license and various credit cards, as well as her passport.

The car key was attached to a ring on the side of the purse.
He detached it and headed outside to her car, which he pulled around back to
the garage. He left all her things in it, including the purse, and pocketed the
key, along with her wallet and passport. He drew an auto tarp over the vehicle
just as a precaution. He would clear out the glove compartment and dispose of
the car once he had Mia properly settled.

Everything was set up, all his bases covered. He’d arranged
to take the rest of the month off. It was one of the perks of being the boss.
It didn’t hurt that his parents had finally retired to Florida, leaving the
running of the company to him and his brother, Robert. And now that Robert was
working the California side of the business, Ellis was in charge of the New
York operations on his own. He had competent, motivated employees who could
keep things running smoothly in his absence, and he’d stay in touch via phone
and email.

He turned up the audio on the security system. Mia was no
longer crying. She appeared to be asleep, though it was hard to tell since her
hair was partially covering her face. She lay still, her breathing regular.
True, she was plumper than he liked, but she had lovely skin. It was pale and
smooth, perfect for marking with a whip, and welting with a cane.

Eager to begin, Ellis pushed back from the kitchen bar and
headed upstairs. When he opened the door, Mia turned her head sharply in his
direction and he heard the sudden intake of breath.

“Please,” she entreated, her voice hoarse.

He shook his head. “No, no, Mia. You will not speak unless
asked a direct question. If I have to remind you again, you’ll be wearing a gag
until I’m confident you’ve learned your lesson. Are we quite clear on this,
young lady?”

He smiled as he watched the color suffuse her cheeks and
noted the spark of anger in those pretty blue eyes. She still had some fire in her,
beneath the fear. He would soon douse that fire, however. He would subjugate
her completely, wiping every trace of disobedience and resistance from her
psyche. And then would begin the careful, exacting process of rebuilding her,
step by step, into the woman of his dreams.

“I
really
have to pee.”

In a second he was by her side. He smacked her cheek with
his open hand and she cried out, twisting her head away. He struck her again
and then reached for her throat, closing his hand around it, squeezing just
enough to get her full attention.

Mia squeaked with terror, her eyes going wide, her body
beginning to shake.

“You are a very bad girl,” Ellis said evenly, ignoring for
the moment his raging hard-on. “You don’t listen.” He spoke slowly, his voice
hard. “You need to pay careful attention, Mia. Your life is quite literally in
my hands.” He tightened his grip to make his point.

She squeaked again and tears flooded her eyes. Ellis
continued, “I asked you a direct question, which requires a direct answer. I asked
if we were clear on this. The correct response would have been, ‘Yes, Sir. We
are clear on this.’
Not
, ‘I really have to pee.’”

“Oh, god,” she groaned, her cheeks flushing brick red. “I’m
sorry, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it,” she whined.

Ellis, momentarily confused, loosened his grip on her
throat. What was she sorry for, exactly? Then, as his eye moved down her naked
body and focused on the spreading yellow stain on the white coverlet on which
she lay, he realized what had happened. Christ, what was it with these damn
women?

He frowned at the blushing, whimpering girl, feeling almost
sorry for her. He untied the ropes from around her ankles and then undid the
Velcro cuffs that held her wrists. Her arms fell heavily to the pillow and she
moaned, rolling onto her side. Ellis reached for her and half-pulled,
half-dragged her from the bed, letting her fall in a naked heap at his feet.
When she started to get up, he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Get on your hands and knees.” He jerked her into position.
“You will crawl to the bathroom and get cleaned up. Then there’s the matter of
your punishment.”

He stepped behind her, giving her a kick in the ass with the
toe of his shoe to get her moving. “Go on. Crawl.” 

She began to move, her ample ass swaying, her thighs damp
with her own urine. Once they were in the bathroom, he ordered her to crawl to
the bidet and sit down on it. She looked at him with confusion, though at least
she was finally learning to keep her mouth shut.

“It’s a bidet,” Ellis explained. “Very common in Europe.
It’s for keeping yourself clean between showers. Perfect for dirty girls who
pee on themselves.” He smiled at her now predictable blush. “You straddle the
bowl, facing the faucets. Go on. Get up on it. I’ll control the water flow.”

Mia did as she was told, straddling the low, porcelain
basin. Ellis leaned over her and turned on the cold water. Mia yelped and
started to rise from the bidet, but Ellis was ready for that, and he held her
firmly by the shoulders.

“It’s cold!” she wailed as the water spurted up from the
basin.

“That’s right,” Ellis agreed. “Naughty girls don’t get hot
water. You have to earn that privilege. I’m going to let go of you now, but if
you get up, I can assure you you’ll be very, very sorry.”

He took his hands from her shoulders. She didn’t move,
except to shiver. Ellis squirted some liquid soap from the stand behind the
bidet onto his hand and reached between her legs, roughly rubbing her cunt and
thighs as the cold water sprayed from beneath her. He let the water run a few
seconds longer to rinse her. “You’re done. You may kneel on that bath rug while
I go over some rules with you and decide your punishment.”

The girl stood on trembling legs and moved, as ordered,
toward the bath rug to which he pointed. Her skin was covered with goose bumps
and her nipples were pointy, the areolas puckered with cold.

“Get on your knees,” Ellis instructed. “Back straight, knees
spread, arms behind your head, fingers laced at your neck.” When she hesitated
he put his hand on her shoulder, pressing until she sank to her knees. Her
breasts lifted as if in invitation as she raised her arms. His cock hardened as
he envisioned straddling her shoulders and shoving his cock into that pretty
little mouth.

He put his foot between her knees. “Wider,” he ordered. He
would definitely wax all that nasty hair off her cunt within the next day or
so.

All at once Mia crumpled forward, curling into herself as
she rocked on the bathroom floor. “Let me go! Let me go! Please, please, don’t do
this to me!” She began to wail, a high pitched, piercing sound that made Ellis
wince.

What the hell? This wasn’t how his fantasy was supposed to
go at all. Yes, of course he expected resistance, even looked forward to it in
a way, as part of the challenge. But this constant curling up and sobbing would
simply have to stop.

“God damn it,” he roared, reaching down and pulling her up.
“If this is how you want it, then this is how you’ll get it.” Wrapping his arms
around her legs, he hoisted the naked, wet girl over his shoulder and marched
with her out of the bathroom and through her bedroom to the closet.

Inside was a large animal cage he’d fitted with an old
blanket. Ellis set the girl down on her ass and pulled open the cage door. He
reached into his pocket for his knife and flicked it open in her direction.
“Get in,” he ordered. “You’ll stay there until you’re ready to cooperate.”

Mia bit her lower lip, tears spilling down her cheeks, but
she did as she was told, crawling awkwardly into the big cage. It wasn’t tall
enough to stand, but there was room to sit, if you bent forward. Ellis pulled
the cage shut and locked the padlock.

Crouching inside, Mia leaned toward the door, wrapping her
fingers around the bars. “I don’t like small spaces,” she said faintly.

“Did I ask you a direct question?” Ellis snapped.

“Please”—Mia couldn’t stop herself from saying, in spite of
his threats—“How long are you going to leave me in here?”

“How long? As long as it takes, Mia. As long as it takes.”

~*~

Water.

If only she could have a glass of cool, clear water. She was
thirsty. So thirsty. She sucked on the insides of her cheeks and imagined
lemons in an effort to get her saliva moving, but even that didn’t work. How
long had it been since she’d had anything to drink?

She knew she had to be hungry too, but her stomach had
shrunk into a tight, hard little ball. At least there was a light on overhead.
If he’d left her in the dark, locked in this small cage, she might really have
lost her mind.

She was lying on her side, the thin blanket bunched into a
makeshift pillow beneath her head. She had no idea how long she’d been in
there, but it had to be at least a few hours. What if he never came back? The
thought caused a new spurt of panic and she began to cry again. After a while
she wiped her eyes and sniffled, trying to comfort herself.
Of course he’ll
come back. Of course he will.

For a long while she just lay there, too exhausted even to
cry. There were no tears left. Her eyes burned and stung, and her hip and
shoulder ached from lying on the hard floor of the metal cage. She drifted in
and out of a troubled, light doze, but never quite managed to fall asleep.

She was still stunned by all that had gone on since she’d
arrived at Ellis Hughes’ door. How could someone who was so incredibly handsome
and had acted so kind and sincere be such a monster?

She knew the question was a silly one. Looks had nothing to
do with it. In fact, they’d probably contributed to some degree, along with his
wealth, in leading him to believe he could get away with what he was doing.

Well, he wouldn’t. At least she prayed he wouldn’t.

Her ears remained pricked for any sound, though she wasn’t
sure if she wanted him to come back or not. At least here in the cage she was
alone. She wouldn’t think about how close the bars were around her, or about
the fact that she couldn’t get out, even if the house was burning down.

No. Don’t focus on that stuff. Think about what you can
control.
Scared or not, she would never be able to escape as long as she
was locked in a cage inside a closet. She had to get out.

How to get out?

Do what he says. If he wants you to speak only when
spoken to and to call him Sir, just do it. It’s about survival. Right now you
have no idea what the hell is going on—what this guy wants from you, or how far
he’s willing to go to get it. But you do know some things. You know you’re
still alive. If he was going to kill you, wouldn’t he have done that already?
Instead he has you installed in a lavish bedroom with a gorgeous bathroom. He
says he wants to train you, whatever the hell that means.

All at once she remembered the crazy, scary things he had
said while he had her tied to the bed. Something about erotic torture, whatever
the hell that meant. And something about the cut of a cane, the stroke of the
lash, the crash of a paddle. Something about punishment for transgressions, or
just because he wanted to see her suffer. Holy shit, the guy was some kind of
Marquis de Sade!

Okay, stop it. Don’t panic.
Training of any kind
takes time, doesn’t it? Time is a good thing because it gives you a chance to
figure out where the weak points are so you can exploit them. He’s physically
much stronger, granted, and he has a knife, and probably a gun too, when it
comes down to it. But he’s just one person. He wouldn’t dare bring anyone else
into this—this kidnapping, this lunacy.