The Broken: Part Three
NICHOLAI
I knew that conversation would be the hardest part of making Natasha into what I craved. And I had another trick up my sleeve to help entice her into my slave quarters.
Leading her out of the apartment, I could smell her sweet perfume. The scent was musky and made me stir as I thought about how the rest of her body smelled. She brought out more animal in me than most women did.
It was obvious that I needed to get her consent to get things going with her so I could stop being obsessed over her all the time. She filled my waking thoughts and my nightly dreams.
I was certain once I had used her body in the ways I wanted that I would stop thinking about her constantly. I just had to get her to agree and sign the damn bond. It was a rule with the BBC.
If one was to take things to a personal level, then one had to have a bond signed. If a woman came into our club, she knew what she was in for. If she was not in the club when you did certain things, you needed to protect yourself.
So I really needed her signature on that document before any of the good stuff could happen. I could still fuck her when I wanted, with her consent, of course. But the rough stuff wasn’t a thing my club members thought was smart to do without the signed bond.
One never knew what might happen if the woman simply got mad and started telling your deep dark secrets. The things we did were not commonplace. And in many ways were not accepted by mainstream society.
The goings on of that night had made many a woman, who was sitting on the fence about the bond, cave in. I hoped Natasha would also be smitten by the dramatic flair which the evening would deliver.
We got onto the elevator and she stood in the right corner, trying to keep her focus on everything else but me. “Natasha,” I turned my head in her direction. Her eyes slowly met mine. I saw the fear and the confusion behind her eyes. And my heart stopped for a moment. “I never want you to do something you’re uncomfortable with. If you don’t want this, I can forget about the agreement right here.”
For some reason, I cared about what she wanted more than my own selfish desires, or maybe it was the way her ass sat in that dress. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a thing I’d ever felt before.
“By forgetting about the agreement, do you mean forgetting about me too?” she asked me with sorrowful eyes.
Could I forget about her? I asked myself. Could she be a woman I could forget?
I’d been away from her for two, what felt like, very long weeks. I thought about her constantly. But without the bond, without the rules, I’d have to let her go.
I nodded and watched her head drop. Then lifted it back up as I held her chin and stroked her cheek with my thumb. “I don’t want to forget about you. You could still have the internship. I’d just have to forego any thoughts of a sexual situation with you.”
The corners of her mouth pulled into a smile. “Do you really consider yourself capable of having me around you and not feeling a sexual pull to me?”
I felt baited by her words. I was a man who dripped self-discipline. If I set my mind to it, I could get past my obsession with her body. “I’d have to find another woman to fill your sexual shoes. But I could handle myself around you if you decide this isn’t a thing you want to do.”
“I’d have to see you around the office and know you were with someone else?” she asked me.
I nodded. “You hold the power in your hands, not to see that happen.” I took her hands and pulled them up, placing kisses on her palms.
She shuddered with the sensation. “Nic, how long do you see this lasting?”
“I don’t think in those terms. I think this will last for as long as we want it to. If either of us tires of it then we end the bond. If we’re still enjoying one another in a year or even five then we will leave things like they are,” I told her.
“I’m 23, I know I’m not a spinster by any means but if we kept up our bond for five years, I’d feel the need to start a family by then. What do your rules say about that?” she asked as the elevator stopped.
The doors opened and we walked out without me uttering a single word. She saw my silence was an uncomfortable one and I was startled by the way her hand caressed my cheek as I opened the door to my Range Rover to let her in on the passenger side.
Her touch was soft, soothing, and made a different heat fill me. Lust was all I’d ever felt, that sensation was completely new to me. So I let her in on a bit about myself.
“If you desire a family then we would have to see where we stood at that time. My mother was my father’s slave and when she got pregnant with me, by mistake, he had to marry her. That is one of our rules,” I told her and watched her mouth drop.
“That’s hard to believe.”
“Well, this will make it even harder for you. You see, a man’s wife has to be treated with a lot of respect. You and I would no longer share the physical relationship we will in the confinements of the bond.”
Her eyes danced as she smiled. “Why do you say that with such a sadness, Nic? Married people still have sex.”
“Not the kind I’m talking about,” I said and watched her shudder with a sudden chill.
“You’re frightening me.”
“You should be afraid, a little.” I closed the door, leaving her with an air of fascination. I was trying to seduce her to my ways. I was trying to make her into the woman I thought I wanted her to be.
NICHOLAI
I got behind the wheel of my truck and headed to a ritual that would hopefully change her views on how things worked.
“What museum are we going to?” she asked, looking at me. “You’ll see shortly.” I rubbed my thumb up her forearm and watched goose bumps form on her beautiful creamy skin.
That was the best part of the initiation for me then, getting to forget about business and other problems that life throws at you. Whoever said more money means more problems was dead on. Even the FBI found their way somewhere in the mix just to let their presence be known.
The FBI was a source of contention for me and my family. They always had been. I suppose when dealing in the weapons industry, that’s to be expected. But the fuckers were all so cocky and sure if they turned over just the right stone, they’d find a goldmine.
Like burrs under my blanket, the people of the FBI irritated me to no end. There was no real threat as we did all of our business above board. They’d gone through our files with a fine-tooth comb only five years before and found nothing. I didn’t know why they were so determined to go at us again.
Glancing at Natasha, I saw she was keeping her attention on the night lights and the beauty of the city. It seemed the city always looked beautiful at night no matter where you were.
But in the beauty hid the madness and scathing villains, lurking in the crevices of the dark alleys. That is how I saw life. Beauty hid the sinister being who resided within.
Some people were the kind who wore their hearts on their sleeves. You knew everything about them within hours if you spent any amount of time with them. I was part of a world full of people with layer upon layer of thick skin which had been made by troubles and turmoil not many know the likes of.
Most see the rich as spoiled, and while some are, the people who actually work for their money are anything but spoiled. The need for a club like The Billionaire Bad Boy Club, a club for wealthy men of all ages, was seen by the founders. My grandfather was one of them.
I should feel a certain amount of shame for that but I don’t. He and his cohorts searched their souls for how to really get away for a little while from the brutal pressure the business world puts on those who surf the huge waves of cash.
Carnal pleasures have always been at the forefront of all activities that tend to take the mind away from troubles to a place where only two people, and sometimes more, exist. In that space of time, the body decompresses. Letting out steam in excess as you release your inhibitions and increase your chances of not dying from a heart attack due to stress.
One could look at my grandfather and the other men like him as healing men. And with their many dollars, they could buy some fun. Some natural stress relieving medicine. Women!
With that thought in my mind, I looked at the woman in my passenger seat, wondering how the young, impressionable, innocent woman sat naive to the evil which clung to her. I was like a mosquito, silently drinking away her blood, while infecting her with my disease.
I couldn’t imagine the secrets and skeletons she must’ve had in her closet. I knew she had some. The way she could turn into another person told me that much. She was truly naïve but she was anything but innocent. There had to be a dark little thing in her past to make her that way.
All of us who practice this lifestyle have a darkness that haunts us. We face the pain and anguish rather than hide from it. I have no doubt in my mind, my darkness came straight from my family.
You don’t hear the things I’ve heard about myself and my poor mother, from the man who is supposed to be your hero, your keeper, your defender and not grow scars on your soul. I was severely scarred and what was worse, I needed to take a fresh, naïve young woman and contort her to fit my will in an attempt to curb some of that evil appetite I had.
Her darkness was well hidden from herself but it was there and I was going to mine it until it came to the surface. Perhaps once that occurred, I’d be full of what I needed from her and able to move on. It wouldn’t leave her in peace, it would leave her in pieces.
With a sultry stare at my intended victim, we pulled up to the Cooper-Hewitt Design Museum, the old Carnegie Mansion. That is where the night would begin and the wonders of the world laid ignorant to the elite’s finest entertainment.
It was yet to hit the air but lust would abound soon. And in that lustful rage, I hoped to gain my prize. My sweet, delectable prize.
Everyone else was just getting there. Some of the richest and most famous people in New York were there.
“Let me put this on for you.” I placed a lace mask on her face. Then I put on my masquerade mask and escorted her into the theater. Her icy-blue eyes darted around, her hand was tight on my arm as she clung to it. Everyone was masked, as usual at anything the BBC did.
A gentleman with shoulder length dirty blonde hair and a tall dark haired woman strolled past us. Natasha leaned in, “Was that?”
I stopped her with a finger to her lips. “We never ask that question.” Anonymity was a courtesy and one never stepped on common courtesies.
Upon our arrival, I could see the Lord in Standing, talking with some of the other members. The only other newbie was with Jon X. She looked nervous with sad eyes as she looked upon everyone else.
She and Natasha were the only newbies from what I saw. “Natasha, I’m going to step over there for a bit,” I told her. It was important she learn to converse with other females at those things. With that lifestyle, one could only confer about certain things with others like them. Building confidential friendships was important lest your mind went to a frazzled state. “Try and talk to this young lady here until I come back. Drinks and Hor D’oeurves are being served inside the ballroom.” I took her to the other young lady after she gave me a nod that told me she understood.
As I went amongst the others I watched as she kept her composure and acquainted herself. I felt great pride as I watched her get along well with the other woman. She would make a wonderful slave if she let herself go with the darkness inside her.
“She is gorgeous, Bill,” Jon. X. told me. “What do you think of my new victim?”
“She looks a little sad,” I had to let him know.
“She’s only sad that I am not near her. She can’t get enough of me,” he said with a growl. “And how’s it going with that vixen you’ve managed to find?”
“You really don’t want to know that,” I said with a chuckle. “On account, I’d have to lie to improve upon what you’ve just told me about your new find. Mine is a diamond in the rough. She will need tons of polishing but I’m up for the challenge.”
His grimace had my insides jittery for a second. “She’s having to be led into it? Not good. But I saw her before, at the warehouse. I’ve seen her there twice as a matter of fact. She has to be into it if she went there.”
“The first time she was duped by her friend, Daniella Day, into coming. She was told it was a fundraiser and nothing more than that. But a delightful experience in the bathroom told me she has it in her to make a good candidate. The second time she was there, was for me. This is all new to her but she’s not running away, screaming.”
“Like she probably should be,” he added with a foreboding chuckle.
As I watched her from across the room, our eyes locked and she mouthed, ‘Save me.’
My knees buckled and I couldn’t believe the stab I felt in my heart. She wanted me to save her and I was trying to do anything but that. I was taking her further into the dark underside of the world.
A place where chains hung on the walls next to whips that were used to tame the spirit and kill the rebelliousness inside a person. Not all slaves are women. There are plenty of powerful women who have male slaves. There is no sexism in our society, contrary to popular opinion.
Her eyes still held mine as she wiggled her finger at me and I took a step forward, like some kind of fool. I shook my finger at her then mock-swatted in the air to show her what that kind of tomfoolery would get her if she kept it up.
A smile flowed over her sweet lips and she blew me a kiss. A simple act it was but it made my heart skip a beat. I had to look away, back to my cronies and had no idea, Jon. X. had witnessed our little back and forth.
His shoulder nudged mine as he whispered, “You had better watch out, old boy. That one may sneak up on you.”
“Never,” was my fast reply.
Never!