Trust (6 page)

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Authors: Terry Towers

BOOK: Trust
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“Motherfucker.” He grabbed my arm above the elbow firmly, but not so tight as to hurt. “I’ll deal with him later. We need to get you cleaned up for our session.” He hustled me back downstairs and in the direction of the doctor’s office, but we veered off before we reached the office and into a shower room, which contained three shower heads. He closed and locked the door behind us.

“Why did they do it?”

“Do what?” He stepped up to me and I lifted my chin as he undid my collar.

“Why did they kill her?”

“Because she wouldn’t submit
. No matter what we tried she wouldn’t submit completely and was on the verge of insanity. There’s a point where slaves like her go from defiant to becoming fully submissive, that’s ideally what we’re aiming for. However, in some instances instead of them turning submissive they have a break. Generally the ones with the strongest will have the greater chance of having a psychotic break since we have to push harder to make them submit. Once they have a mental break they’re useless to us. We don’t sell damaged goods and she was too damaged physically and mentally to be sold for a price worthwhile keeping her so she needed to be disposed of.”

A shudder rocked through me. His explanation was said so coldly, as if he were talking about a lame animal that was being taken behind the barn and put down for its own good. Was that how he saw us? Just animals. Human cattle. So was I like some pet to him, like a favourite dog.

“I told you yesterday not to try and run.”

“I had to try.”

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “The compound is buried deep into a wooded area. The perimeter of the house is surrounded by a twelve-foot electrified fence. Even if by some miracle you made it out the front door or out a window you’d have never have made it off the property.” He pointed to my leg. “Not to mention you’re wearing the tracking device.”

Capturing my chin in his hand, he lifted my face so our gazes locked. “There is no escaping here, Gwen.”

I could see in his eyes he wasn’t lying. There was no escape. I was trapped and at his mercy.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Gwen

I wasn’t sure what came over me, but the realization that there truly wasn’t an escape hit me like a ton of bricks and I fell to my knees at his feet, sobbing. When I’d arrived here I swore I’d never allow them to see me cry, I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, but as the faces of my family flashed into my mind, the thought that I’d never see them again was way too much. I’d never feel my mother’s warm embrace. I’d never go out behind the garage and shoot hoops with my father. I’d never find true love, or get married, or have children or have the life I’d always dreamed for myself.

It. Was. All. Gone.

It wasn’t until my arms were wrapped around his neck and my face was buried in the crook between his shoulder and neck that I realized he’d knelt in front of me and had pulled me into his arms. I gripped onto the back of his t-shirt and continued to sob, gasping for breath between each bout.

I don’t know how long went by with me clinging tight to him. He may be a monster, but at that moment the comfort of a monster was better than nothing. When the tears stopped and I was finally able to pull away from him, his grey t-shirt was drenched with my tears and blood was smeared over the front and shoulders.

I looked up into his eyes and saw compassion, the compassion I’d seen that first day in his father’s office. “Are you okay to stand?”

I took a deep breath in and slowly released it. “Yes, Master.”

“I told you yesterday, when we’re alone you can call me Lance.”

“Lance.”

He smiled and nodded.

Taking my arm, Lance helped me to my feet and led me over to the shower heads. Turning on one he fiddled with it until he found an acceptable temperature and then steered me under the flow of cascading water.

“Don’t move.”

I couldn’t if I wanted to, I was drained, physically and emotionally. The day had been too much, leaving me feeling numb inside. I watched as Lance pulled his shirt up and over his head and tossed it by the door. His bare upper body was as beautiful as I imagined it would be, all lean muscle.

Walking over to a small shelving unit in the corner by the door, Lance grabbed a cloth, liquid soap and bottle of shampoo. He took a moment to kick off his loafers before coming back over to me. Placing the cloth and soap on the ledge behind me he lathered up his hands with the shampoo before joining me under the stream of water.

“Your jeans are going to get soaked.”

A smirk spread across his lips. “Trust me, you don’t what to find out what will happen if I take them off.”

A weak laugh, more from nervousness than anything else, escaped me as my cheeks grew warm.

His smile turned sympathetic. “Turn around, Gwen. Let’s see if we can get this blood off you.”

Doing as told, I closed my eyes as he began to work the shampoo into my hair, massaging my scalp as he lathered my hair. His strong fingers massaged my scalp and felt so good that a soft moan escaped my lips and I leaned back into him.

Was this how people with Stockholm syndrome came to develop their attachment? If it was then I could easily understand how it came about, because all I wanted and needed at that moment was the feel of his body against mine. I just wanted some sort of reassurance from someone I didn’t think wanted to hurt me.

Once he was satisfied with my hair, he soaped up the washcloth and beginning with my neck began to clean and caress my flesh. Leaning back fully into him, I laid my cheek against his shoulder. As he continued to wash me, reaching my breasts, the feel of the ridge of his cock restrained behind the tight denim began to press against my bare bottom. Not caring that it was wrong and that I shouldn’t want him, I pressed back against his growing erection and was rewarded with a low feral growl from him.

Lance’s lips brushed against the side of my neck, sending a shiver through me and igniting an ache between my legs. “Please don’t, Gwen,” he whispered as he moved his lips to my temple and placed a soft kiss there.

Turning in his arms, I pressed myself flush against him, slipping my arms around his neck and urging his lips down to meet mine. “Why not? I just need somebody right now. Why can’t it be you?”

Refusing my urging for a kiss, he pressed his forehead against mine, closing his eyes, while holding me tight to him. “We can’t do that, Gwen. I’m sorry for the situation you’re in, but my empathy for you doesn’t change anything.”

“Can’t let emotion get in the way,” I echoed what he’d said to me the previous day.

“No, I can’t.” He stepped back from me and crouched down. The feel of the washcloth on me went from sensual to mechanical, cleaning away the blood from my flesh quickly and efficiently until the water ran from pink to clear.

Once done he stood and wiped the water from his face as he turned off the shower. The droplets glistened as they glided down the hard curves of muscle. My eyes wandered down his torso to his jeans, which were completely saturated with water and clinging to his powerful thighs and revealing the massive bulge constrained within them.

My gaze lifted, roaming up his chest and to meet his. As I met his stare the need within his eyes sent a tremor through me. Stepping forward, I grabbed his belt buckle and was about to undo it when he grabbed my wrists and stopped me from further undoing his pants. “You’ve been through enough today. The training can wait until tomorrow.”

Bending down, he grabbed the collar from the floor. I took a step backward, eyeing the collar. For a brief few minutes I’d almost been able to push out of my mind where I was and I felt an equal to him, but the collar reminded me. I wasn’t human to him, just a pet.

“Lance, please.”

He closed his eyes a moment, took a deep breath in, slowly released it and when he reopened his eyes the emotion was gone and just emptiness remained. Ignoring my plea, he advanced on me, slipping the leather contraption around my neck and securing it.

“We’ve discussed this. I’ve given you more leniency than I should already.”

There was a row of leashes hanging in the cabinet where he’d gotten the washcloth. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around my body and then attached the leash to my collar.

“How do you think it would look if they saw me allowing you to walk free after you just attempted to escape?”

“Do I have to go back there?”

“Yes.”

“Can I stay with you? I’ll behave, I promise.” The idea of going back to my cell and looking at the spot where that poor girl was murdered made my stomach roll. The little bit of dinner I ate had threatened to come up several times already since the demonstration Tanner put on.

“That’s not an option, Gwen. But I won’t take you back yet. We still have the matter of your punishment to attend to.” He unlocked the door and opened it before I had a chance to respond. “And fuck, for the love of Christ stay quiet and act like an obedient little pet if we run into anyone.”

After bending to retrieve his shirt, he gave the leash a tug and I walked forward not sure what to think. I didn’t understand, I actually offered to blow him and he refused. Hell, I offered him me and he refused, what else did I have to offer in the way of proving my regret? Although deep down the only remorse I felt was the fact I got caught.

I walked wordlessly behind Lance, clutching to my towel, grateful I was covered for the first time in close to a week. We took a quick stop at the doctor’s office, which was currently vacant. After searching a few cabinets he produced a bottle of pills; opening it up, he shook a couple into his hand and passed them to me. “It’s just painkillers, for your side,” he explained, seeing the look of apprehension on my face. He grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge, twisted off the top and gave me the bottle. Taking the pills, I drank down most of the bottle, relishing the fact I could be greedy with the amount of water I drank this time.

We traveled back upstairs and he led me right to the door at the end of the hallway. Opening it, he stepped aside and allowed me to enter before him. The room was darkened, but as soon as he flipped on the light I gasped and quickly stepped backward, attempting to escape the room, but my escape was blocked by his large frame in the doorway.

“Why are we here?” My eyes scanned the dimly lit room. A number of contraptions that I assumed were all used somehow in the BDSM world filled the large room. An assortment of whips and paddles hung neatly on the wall to the left of me and toward the back of the room was a large bed with a large, finely detailed wooden cabinet next to it. Looking toward the ceiling I noticed chains hanging down with cuffs attached to them. They kind of reminded me of a scene from the
Hellraiser
movies.

I don’t want to be here, in fact, I’ll take my cell over this place in a New York minute.

I turned around and looked up at him, pleading with my eyes. I didn’t want to be here. “I’ll go back to my cell. I don’t –”

His eyes were uncompromising as he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me forward so he could close the door and, as usual, lock it. Once locked he took a couple of steps toward me, closing the distance; instinctively I matched his steps backward. A look of annoyance appeared on his handsome features and he gave the leash a yank, forcing me toward him.

“What did I tell you about trying to get away from me?” His voice was so cold it sent a shiver through me and I wrapped the towel tighter around my shoulders as if in protection, but didn’t answer.

He sighed, thrusting a hand in his hair in frustration. “I already told you how much it annoys me.” I forced myself not to back away when he unhooked the leash and then reached behind my
neck and unclasped the collar. Removing it, he placed them both onto a small steel table next to the door.

“Why are we here?”

“I can’t very well take you into the main section of the compound. Slaves aren’t permitted on the main floors.” He walked past me and motioned for me to follow. “Come on.”

I looked behind me at the door. Three seconds to unlock it. Then what? No one aside from Lance knew my location, I could –

“Don’t even think it, Gwen. If you refuse to trust anything else from me then trust you won’t get far and there’s no way I’ll be able to save you from punishment from Tanner or Connor. I may be the son of the boss here, but I’m still not the boss and believe me when I say my opinion doesn’t count for shit for the most part when my father is on the premises. Not yet anyhow.”

My brow furrowed as I eyed him.
Not yet anyhow?
Whether he meant to say that or not I didn’t know, but I certainly caught it.

I watched as he turned off one of the cameras and proceeded to the other side of the room to turn off the second one. Feeling my eyes on him, he caught my gaze and held it a moment before answering my unasked question. “Aside from the
staff living quarters of the compound, every inch of this place has cameras all working and recording. I have no desire to have the whole crew watching us. I wouldn’t be surprised if they spend their free time jacking off to the training videos.”

Still not sure how to comment, I again opted for remaining silent.

“Come on. Away from the door, you’re making me nervous.”

I couldn’t help but crack a small smile at his comment, the first genuine smile since I arrived in this godforsaken place. Lance didn’t seem the type to get nervous over anything – especially his ability to catch me if I decided to make a run for it. His blank expression cracked and he returned my smile.

   Walking up to me, he took my hand and led me over to the bed at the back of the room. Pulling the beige blanket down, he patted the mattress. “I’m sure your side must be hurting, lie down a while before I take you back.”

Doing as told I dropped the towel onto the floor and climbed in. Once I was in he yanked the blanket up and under my chin, tucking me in as if I were a child going down for a nap. Turning his back to me he undid his soaked jeans and pulled them down. Shifting to my good side, I examined his naked body from behind. The rest of his body was devoid of tattoos but his back piece made up for it; coming out from his spine w
ere two beautifully detailed dark wings, the tips of the wings reaching up to his shoulders. It was so detailed and well textured if you looked quickly you’d almost think they were actually feathers. It was beautiful and intimidating all in one.

Opening the cabinet, Lance pulled out a pair of grey jogging pants and pulled them on before turning back to me. He frowned, eyeing me closely. “What’s wrong?”

I could have laughed at the question, but didn’t. If he had a few hours I could have made a list of everything that was upsetting me. “Aside from being held captive and going up for sale?”

“Yeah, aside from that.”

“Your tattoo.”

He let out a little chuckle. “
Ahhh.”

“Why the wings?”

He shrugged as if to dismiss the question, but I couldn’t imagine someone getting something that impressive without a meaning behind it. Walking over to the bed, he sat on the edge, leaving close to a foot between us.

“So does everyone live here?”

“Yes and no. We’re quite a ways from civilization so it takes a while to get into town, so it’s usually easier to stay here.” With hesitation he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. I didn’t flinch at his touch and it seemed to please him that I didn’t. “Everyone has their own quarters in the main section of the compound.”

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