Indulgence (355 page)

I needed to find something to keep my mind occupied. To keep
myself from ripping my hair out at the thought of never going home to them.

I rolled to my side, trying desperately to find a way to
relieve some of the pressure, but every movement excited nerves that I had
never felt before.

I wondered if I could take it out, and replace it before
Kirk came home, just to get some momentary relief. But there were two major
problems. The first was that it took him a good deal of work to get it in and I
didn’t think I was capable of repeating it on myself. And the second was that
he could walk back in the door at any minute.

Or he could be gone for hours, but I doubted that, since it
was already half past seven and we’d have to go to dinner sometime.

Find a way out
, I reminded myself. I needed something
besides the pressure in my ass to worry about. I pulled at both cuffs,
attempting to slide my hand out, but they were too small to slide past the base
of my thumb. I yanked at them, then the chain, looking for some kind of
weakness. Even if I couldn’t exploit it now and get out of the room, I thought
I could find something that might be of use later, but everything was solid.
The cuffs although small, were strong, which left the lock, and I had the
lock-picking skills of a tortoise.

I flopped onto my back and looked around the bare room. One
vague picture hung on the wall, more like something that would be found in a
hotel room rather than a man’s bedroom. The table nearest me held a lamp and
alarm clock, the most interesting features to the room.

I slid the drawer open and found a stash of condoms. I
rolled my eyes, given what I’d already seen, it wasn’t very surprising. Below
the condoms was some kind of notebook, black with a plain cover. As tempting as
it was, he probably had the condoms laid on top so he’d know if anyone was
nosing around.

Sneaky bastards are like that
, I thought.

Every way I rolled was just as uncomfortable as the last, so
I rolled off the bed to my feet. The plug pressed uncomfortably in me and my
stomach clenched. Ignoring the discomfort, I dragged my chain over the
nightstand to look out the window.

Trees and grass. When I looked straight down, the height
made me dizzy for a moment. I hated tall buildings. When I was on the ground,
they always felt like they were crouching over me, trying to crush me with
their massive presence. Being inside the large building wasn’t much different.

I concentrated on the rest of the view, but there wasn’t a
single identifying characteristic I could find to narrow down my location. I
rested my face against the warm glass. The sun was just beginning to set, and I
could see the purple prequel to twilight creeping over the horizon. Kirk’s
bedroom seemed to face Northeast, I knew that much, but it wasn’t enough to be
helpful.

I stumbled back to the bed grateful that no one was around
to see my bow-legged struggle. Lying down on my stomach, I hoped to alleviate
the sensations. I let my arm hang off of the bed, following the chain down to
where it connected—not with the bed—with a large hook fastened to the wall. I
pulled and twisted at the hook, but couldn’t budge it barehanded.

It was becoming more and more apparent that every struggle
and half-formulated plan was a waste of time and energy.

Exposed

The bedroom door slowly opened and I peeked over the
blanket. I simultaneously wanted to lurch across the room to punch him in the
face and hide under the bed.

“Want me to remove the plug now or after dinner,” he asked.

I stared back wondering what the hell I was supposed to say.
Please, Master, I love it so much, let me keep it
? I couldn’t believe
people got off on this shit, although the ones who did were probably in very
different situations.

Instead of being smart about the situation, my brain hopped
to the crudest thing that popped up first. “I have to piss.”

Kirk rubbed a hand over his short hair. Then, he lowered his
eyes to me in a dead stare. “Try again.”

My mouth refused to open. It was stupid and childish to push
him, but I was too frustrated to be compliant.

“Fine,” he turned away, “I’m going to have my shower. If you
piss my bed, I’ll take payment out of your ass when I get back.”

“Please,” I called after him. Thanks to detoxing from
whatever Gabe and his gang had slipped me, I’d had so much water I couldn’t
possibly hold it. Especially if he was on the other side of the wall with the
shower running. My voice wavered. “Please, let me go to the bathroom.”

I hoped that would be enough, but he leaned against the door
frame and waited.

So, I closed my eyes and added in a whisper, “Master.” As
simple as the concession seemed, I felt something inside me whither a bit more.

He nodded and came back to me, “I guess that’ll do for now.”
Pulling a key from his pocket, he freed my wrist. Then he helped me up and
released my arm. I took a step, knowing it had to be too good to be true that
he was letting me walk through the apartment on my own.

“Crawl,” he instructed.

I swallowed and turned back. His face was still stoic,
eyebrows raised and daring me to argue. I was still seething from forcing the
word “Master” out of my mouth just to be able to use the bathroom, but that was
in no way going to be the end of the downgrading humiliation. “Is this how you
get your jollies?”

“You’re going to become very familiar with how I get my
jollies.” He stepped toward me and I dropped my gaze to the burgundy carpet—as
if it could offer a solution.

It didn’t and neither did my screaming brain, so I dropped
to my knees. I closed my eyes and put my hands on the floor, then crawled all
the way to the toilet and stared it down. The last time I’d been eye-level with
one, I’d caught swine flu from a coworker. And much like then, all I wanted to
do was curl up next to it and rock myself into a peaceful oblivion.

When I reached the living room again, I felt the emotion
surge up from my gut. Frozen in the middle of the living room floor, the anger
and uncertainty choked me. I managed to keep quiet, hoping I was quiet enough
that Kirk didn’t notice anything. After a few long shaky breaths, I calmed
myself enough to sit back and rub away the tears. I blinked up at the light a
few times, forcing back the remaining tears until I was composed enough to face
my captor again. When I crawled back into the bedroom, Kirk was laying on the
bed, his ankles crossed as he toyed with the chain.

All of the things he could do with that chain flashed
through my mind—beating me with it stood out the most. I knew Gabe wouldn’t
hesitate, but I still wasn’t sure about Kirk.

I hesitated near his feet and he dropped the chain. “Come up
here.”

The only way to get onto the bed was over him, unless I took
the small path of empty mattress below his feet, but that would have left me
vulnerable to getting kicked, if he wasn’t particularly amused with my attempt
to avoid him. So I moved closer, to where he patted the bed.

I stood, and he caught my leg as I lifted it onto the bed,
positioning me so that I straddled his lap, my bare pussy against his jeans.
The position pushed the butt plug up at a new angle and I bit the inside of my
cheek to keep from making a noise.

He put one hand on each of my thighs as he looked me over.
“They did a number on you this morning,” he said with a sigh. My tired muscles
absorbed the heat from his soft touches as he examined each injury, but when he
reached for my face, I jerked back.

“Hate me all you want, Sugar,” he said, “I’m the only ally
you have.”

“Ally…?” I whispered, “You’re going to hurt me.” I
challenged him, hoping he’d argue. Even a small attempt at correcting me or
proving me wrong.

“I am,” he replied, so quickly that it smashed what was left
of my hope. He lifted me off of his lap and pushed me across the bed as he
moved to stand behind me. “Ass up.”

I clutched the bed sheets as he pushed my face down into the
mattress and manipulated me until I sat back on my heels. He pulled at the plug
and I tensed. It was bad enough inside, but if coming out was as bad as going
in, I’d rather it just stay where it was.

“Don’t tense. It doesn’t matter how you feel, the only thing
you have control over is your body. Learn to make things easier—and less
painful—on yourself.”

The plug gave with a sudden plop and he pulled it free,
leaving me feeling awkward, used, and empty. What might have been a second of
relief inspired new trepidation—no plug meant he was free to insert other
things. Instead, he smacked my ass cheek and told me to roll over, chaining my
wrist again.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes then we’ll get ready to go up
to the Outlook. I trust that you can say quiet and obedient through dinner?”

“Yes, Master.” My stomach grumbled in response to the
mention of dinner.

*****

Ten minutes later, Kirk returned to the room with his hair
still wet from the shower, and a towel draped around his waist. He opened the
closet door and tossed the towel into the corner. I lowered my head, whether it
was embarrassment or just stubbornness, I didn’t want to see his naked form.

At least that’s what I told myself.

Curiosity got the better of me and my gaze wandered up his
body. Another snake tattoo decorated his leg, running from his ankle up to his
knee. The tribal tattoo on his left shoulder extended around, touching his
shoulder blade. Not a bit of him wasn’t sculpted and toned. His back muscles
contracted as he slid into a black short-sleeve button down shirt, then I got a
full-frontal view as he threw a pair of black jeans onto the bed.

“You’re blushing, Sugar,” he teased as he slid on a pair of
boxers then yanked on the jeans. “What am I going to do with a slave as red as
a beet?”

I looked down at my hands, keeping my jaw clenched shut.

Kirk huffed and walked out to the living room, returning a
few seconds later with a bundle of red material. He unlocked my wrist cuff and
pulled me to my feet. “I assume you can dress yourself.”

I grabbed the pile of red fabric and turned my back to him.
Nothing more than lingerie—a lacy bandeau top with a matching skirt. It barely
came to the bottom of my butt cheeks, and it did nothing to hide any of my
bruises. A mesh overlay hung to the front of the skirt, designed to be pulled
up and laced around my neck with a choker of silk ribbon. I pulled my hair and
twisted it so it stayed on my shoulder while Kirk tied the choker.

Kirk studied me for a second—looking at me more like he was
examining some specimen in a zoo, than a girl in lingerie—then jerked his head
to the door. “Bathroom.”

I took a step, and he cleared his throat. My stomach twisted
as I looked over my shoulder.

“Until further notice, you crawl.”

I wasn’t sure how long I could tolerate the feeling that I
meant absolutely nothing.

I dropped to my hands and knees and shuffled to the
bathroom. I was going to have a bitch case of carpet burn soon, and that
wouldn’t be the worst of it—my clothing wouldn’t cover much of anything if I
had to crawl through the hallways.

At the bathroom counter, he pulled me to my feet by my
silver collar and handed me a comb and a bag of cosmetics.

“We’ll probably have to round up some stuff that matches
your skin tone, but this will do for tonight.”

I glanced wide eyed at the bag of makeup. I could barely
apply eyeliner on a good day without looking like I had drunk five too many
cups of coffee. And that was the pinnacle of my makeup skills.

I dragged the comb through my hair then applied a light
foundation and red lipstick that almost matched my dress. I sorted through the
eye shadows and eye liners.

“Look, I really have no idea what I’m doing here,” I sighed.

Kirk handed me the black eyeliner, and I traced my eyes as
best I could. It was still jagged and uneven.

He lifted my chin. “You’re going to have to work on that,
but you’re lucky the room will be dark. Let’s go.”

With a leash attached to my collar and me crawling like an
animal on my hands and knees, he led me to the elevator and up to the twelfth
floor. As soon as the doors opened, it looked like we were in the middle of a
millionaire’s nightclub. There was glass all around, even in the floors and
ceiling. Men and women dotted the room—many of the women kneeling on the floor,
or serving food and drinks to others.

There was no violence, no commotion. The slaves tended to
follow their men around, and either sit at their feet or crawl into their
laps—generally looking
content
.

Their contentment nauseated me. I wanted to run up to all of
them and shake them until they saw what was happening.

Kirk jerked my leash, and I realized that I’d stopped in the
center of the room. I pushed myself forward, following him to a center room
that was encased in glass. Above, the moonlight shined through the glass
ceiling, and below, sections of the floor had been replaced with glass,
overlooking the sex scenes below.

My stomach clenched, and I must have jerked the chain,
because Kirk pulled it up and glared at me. He took a seat and pointed to a
spot near his feet. “Sit.”

I did, keeping my head down so he wouldn’t see my glare
while he unfastened the leash and draped it over the back of his chair.

“I’m surprised you’ve made such fast progress, Kirk.” Suit
said as he took a seat at the head of the table with a trio of women around his
feet.

I clenched my teeth—the anger flowing through my nerves
created the sensation that I could rip out of my own skin at any moment.

Two more men entered and sat across from Kirk, followed by
the same dark-skinned man who’d joined forces with Kirk in the hallway and a
blond-haired slave at his feet. When he sat, the girl immediately sat on her
heels before him.