Chapter Two
Annette tried her sister’s cell, but again it went to voice mail. She paced across the living room floor. This wasn’t like Janette. Her twin was the good one. It was nearly midnight. She wouldn’t stay out like this without calling—or really at all. She had exams. She wouldn’t be out drinking or partying. Had she gotten into a wreck? Annette tried desperately not to go through the entire mental catalog of all the things that could have possibly happened.
I’m sure everything is fine. Maybe she went out with her study group for coffee or something and lost track of the time.
But even she didn’t buy her own bullshit this time. Something was very wrong. Her sister was in trouble. She knew it. It was a twin thing. The two of them had always been close and the bond had only gotten tighter when they’d been left with only each other.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang in her hand. The caller ID said blocked.
“Janette?” she said anyway.
“Annie!”
“Oh, thank God! Jan are you okay? What happened? Do you need me to come and get you?”
Her sister was crying and couldn’t seem to get her thoughts together to speak a coherent sentence.
“Are you hurt?” Annette kept imagining the car flipped over in a ditch.
“Y-you know that guy you told me about from the club last night?”
“What about him?” It seemed like a weird time to start talking about guys.
“He kidnapped me. He thought I was you. I-I think he meant it as a game at first, but now he’s really not going to let me go. I’m scared.”
The room seemed to narrow to a single tiny pinpoint right in front of her. She was still trying to process her sister’s words, and already self-blame had started spinning around in her head.
“Jan, where are you? Do you know? Do you recognize anything?”
Her sister took a few deep breaths, seeming to collect herself, finally.
“Do you remember that time a few years ago when we were driving out in the countryside and we got lost and kept going down smaller and smaller side roads until we found that private drive and we wanted to know what was down there, but you got your GPS working again, and by that point we just wanted to go home?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I know what’s at the end of that private road.”
Annette heard a man’s voice in the background, strong and Russian. “Janette, you naughty naughty girl. I didn’t give you phone privileges.” The next moment he’d taken the phone. “Is this the sister?”
“Y-yes.”
His voice was much more terrifying than she remembered.
“The one whispering filth into my ear last night?”
God, who was this guy? All she could think was Russian mob because normal people didn’t do shit like this.
“Please don’t hurt her. I was the one you wanted.” She tried to keep the hysteria out of her voice.
“You’re the one I still want,” he said. “But we can’t always have what we want. If you go to the police, I’ll kill her.”
The call disconnected.
Annette gawked at the phone. What the hell was she supposed to do?
Every minute she wasted in indecision was a minute he could be doing God only knew what to her sister. Given the depth of the depravity of their conversation the previous night, it didn’t take much imagination to think of what he might be doing to her.
She didn’t even consider calling the police because she believed his threat. He was either a professional or a total scared amateur. Either option could easily end in Janette’s death, and she’d heard too many stories of police intervention gone wrong. She wouldn’t risk her sister for some ego-fueled cop’s promotion.
Annette didn’t have time to fall apart or cry or scream. She had to get it together and go fix this mess. She wouldn’t let herself think about the implications. She just had to move. And keep moving. She just had to focus on each second leading into the next and the next. A cascading set of dominoes falling with each action she took. She just had to get to her sister.
She searched through her closet for the sexiest dress she could find. Short, black. Low back, low cut front. Slinky as hell. And heels. A delicate gold chain with a small heart around her neck. A couple of gold bracelets. She fixed her hair, leaving it long and free with loose blonde curls flowing down her back. Then there was the makeup and perfume—a mild sweet vanilla. Her nails had gotten finished thanks to her afternoon call. If she wanted to entice him into a trade, she fucking well better be enticing.
After all… she was the one he’d wanted.
Then she got in the car. Should she have called someone to tell them where she was going? Probably. But she couldn’t risk that someone wanting to be a hero wouldn’t call the police and that the Russian wouldn’t kill her sister and her as well if she’d made it that far by that point.
She drove for hours. She’d forgotten just how far away it was. How would she find the road in the middle of the night? They’d been lost the first time, and it had been years ago. What if she’d already passed the turn off?
Annette pulled over on the side of the road and did something she hadn’t done since she was a small child. She prayed. She wasn’t sure what she believed in or if she believed in anything at all, but there were times when it couldn’t hurt to pray, and it was the only option left. Maybe some friendly spirit, god, or angel would guide her.
When she started driving again it only took her another half an hour to find that private road. It was still marked with the disconcerting sign: “Private. Trespassers will be shot.”
It took a full ten minutes to reach the end of the road. The drive was so distressingly long that Annette thought she might have missed some small turn off to a house or something. An endless row of trees pressed in all around her. The road had bumps and curves and dips that had her already knotted stomach churning. The lights from her car barely illuminated the space in front of her. And the crickets out here were so loud she could hear them with her windows rolled up.
She finally reached the end and was greeted by a large iron gate and the most enormous white house she’d ever seen. Large Corinthian columns graced a generous front porch. There were five stories she could count. And two towers. Even though this place existed out in the middle of nowhere, it was lit up like a Christmas tree from the outside. Huge spotlights shone on the front of the building. It was so odd. Why would it be lit up like that?
A chill went down her spine. The gate was closed and locked, but there was a speaker box outside. She pulled up to it and pressed the button.
“Tony’s Pizza Place, may I take your order?” came the answer.
Then another voice in the background. “Shut up, Brian.” Neither voice was Russian.
“Let me speak to the Russian,” Annette said. She still didn’t know his name. She felt like she should know the name of the guy who’d kidnapped her sister.
“I’m sorry, no Russians here,” the first guy said.
“Is this Annette?” the Russian said.
Her heart started to pound harder in her chest. What the fuck was she doing?
“Y-yes. I-I want to make a trade. Me for my sister.”
His laugh was hard-edged and cruel. “And what if I decide to keep you both?”
This thought had seriously not occurred to her. It should have during such a long drive, but she’d tried so hard not to think about anything, that she had managed not to think about how stupid this entire idea was. The only thing she’d known to do was beg him to take her instead. It was the only way she could forgive herself for putting Janette in danger.
She’d tried also not to think about the implications of that. Assuming he let her sister go, did that mean he’d keep her as his slave? Like all the bullshit she’d told him at the club? How could she have thought it would be safe to talk like that… to write checks she couldn’t cash in the real world?
And that was something else… even if he let her go, how was Janette going to pay for the apartment? She surely wasn’t going to take up phone sex. It wasn’t her style.
“Did you call the police?” the Russian asked.
“N-no. You said not to.”
“Good girl. Did you call anybody else?”
“No. Please let me in.” If she could just get inside the house, she could convince him. She’d do or say whatever it took. She couldn’t think about anything except getting Janette free. Her sister was innocent in all this. Whatever else happened, she had to get Jan out of here. And if she couldn’t… at least they’d die together. Even if that was the only comfort she could offer, she was there to offer it.
After what felt like decades, the gate creaked open.
Annette parked in the circular drive and dropped her keys into the small clutch she’d brought. It only contained keys, cash, her driver’s license, and a lip balm. She didn’t even know why she’d brought the cash. What would she possibly use it for? Was she going to buy her sister’s freedom with thirty-three dollars and seventy-two cents? Like if her slavery offer wasn’t good enough, some pocket money was going to change his mind?
She was greeted at the front door by a very attractive blond guy who looked like he’d come straight from the beach.
“Where’s my sister?”
“She’s comfortable.” He stepped aside and let her into the house.
Her heels echoed too loudly over the marble floor.
“Follow me.” He led her out of the entry hall, past a large dining area that looked like a cafeteria, and down a long corridor. He stopped outside a door and held it open.
She wasn’t prepared for the bizarre scene that greeted her. The Russian and another guy with dark hair and even darker eyes sat on a couch playing a racing game on a video gaming system. The flat screen television they played on took up half of one wall.
The Russian glanced up at her, then went back to the game.
The blond guy crossed in front of them to much cursing from the dark-haired guy. The blond stopped at a pool table and picked up the cue.
“You didn’t cheat did you?” the blond asked.
“I assure you, I do not need to cheat,” a somewhat older man said. He looked to be around fifty.
“Hello? My sister?” She’d expected to be taken to her, or at least for the men in the house to be acting in a more sinister manner. Playing pool and video games hadn’t been on the list of what she’d thought she’d walk in on.
“Kiska, quiet,” the Russian said. He was fully engaged in the race with the other guy. After a few more minutes, the race ended. The Russian cursed, and the other guy beamed.
“Pay up,” the winner said.
“I was distracted by that,” he said gesturing toward Annette.
“Doesn’t matter. I said we could save the game, but you wanted to finish.”
The Russian pulled a crisp one hundred dollar bill from his pocket and slammed it into the other guy’s palm. Who played video games for a hundred bucks a game? But then, it was obvious from the size of the house that these men had money. The Russian hadn’t been kidding last night when he’d talked about whisking her off to his castle and being able to take good care of her.
“Thanks. It was nice taking your money from you.” He pocketed the cash and turned to Annette, a dark smile spreading over his face. He gave her a long, slow once over that made her skin crawl. “I’ll take this one. You can keep her sister.” He stood and looked her over again and said, “I’m Brian,” in the most sinister way one could say their own name.
Annette took several steps back. Obviously there was something wrong with all of these men if they were holding her sister prisoner, but there was something especially wrong with this one.
“I think that’s a bad idea,” the older man said from the pool table as he sunk a green ball in the corner pocket.
“Nobody cares what you think, doc,” Brian said, not taking his eyes off her.
The Russian put the game controller down on the sofa and turned the TV off. He gestured toward the pool table. “The blond is Gabe. The other man is Lindsay, our resident shrink. And I’m Anton.” He extended a hand for her to shake as if any of this were normal.
She didn’t shake his hand. How fucked up to shake the hand of your sister’s kidnapper.
“Can I see my sister?”
“Not just yet,” Anton said. “You and I need to talk.” He led her away from the others down a few different hallways until he reached his destination. A bedroom? An office? But when he opened the door and ushered her inside, it was neither.
A spa?
Her limbs started to tremble now that she was alone with him as if she’d caught a sharp chill she couldn’t shake off.
Anton clicked off the overhead lights and turned on lamps. Everything was white, gray, and black with clean, simple lines. There was a tall desk with a single vase of white lilies. They were fresh and fragrant. He leaned against the edge of the desk, his arms crossed in front of him.
He held his hand out. “Give me your car keys.”
She hesitated only for a moment before she unsnapped the purse and took out her keys and placed them in his hand. She’d berate herself on the stupidity of such an action but she’d known when she’d first gotten into her car tonight that it was a one way trip. Whatever he chose to do with her—if he released her sister—it was worth it.
“Well?” he said.
“Well, what?”
“What did you think coming here would accomplish? Why would I let her go? She could go to the police. She’s a liability. Brian wants to kill her. I thought we could make her useful around here.”
“This isn’t her fault. If you let her go and keep me instead, she won’t talk. I swear she won’t. She’s not stupid. I’ll convince her.”
“Perhaps.” He crossed to a small table in the corner with a coffee maker and poured coffee into two small white mugs. He handed one to Annette. Their fingers brushed against each other in the exchange.
It hadn’t just been the alcohol the previous night. There was something electric inside him that came out and sparked against her when they touched. She shouldn’t still find him so attractive. But maybe it was better that she did. Maybe it would make things easier. After all, Annette knew what this was. If he accepted her offer, she’d have to be very comfortable with him touching her. That was the trade, after all. Her body and obedience for her sister’s freedom. She hadn’t been too drunk the previous night to process all the things he’d said about his grand plans. Whether she’d thought it was just dirty talk or not, obviously she didn’t think that now.
She waited until he’d drunk from his mug before she chanced drinking from her own in case he was poisoning her. For all she knew, Janette was already dead and she was next. She closed her eyes against that thought and tried very hard not to think it again.
“Tell me, kiska, were you playing me the other night at the club? Maybe I should call you little liar instead of little cat.”
“Is that what kiska means? Little cat?”
“Yes.”
Annette looked down at the coffee in her hands. The heels were starting to hurt her feet. She wanted more than anything to take them off, but there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d get comfortable around him.
“How did you become such a good liar?”
She shrugged. “I’m a phone sex operator. Everything is a lie.” She didn’t bother telling him that it was her skills at lying that made her so good at the job, not the job that had turned her into a liar.
Anton laughed.
“What? Why is that funny?”
“I never thought I’d be the kind of fool who’d be taken in by the lies of a whore. All those pathetic men being led around by the dick, being flattered by women who only want their money. It’s disgusting.”
“Hey! It’s not like I really fuck them. It’s just talk.”
“Maybe you should have kept all your talk on the phone, pet.”
Maybe so, but it was a bit late for that.
He sighed. “Were any of your fantasies true?”
She shook her head, still fascinated by the steam rising up off her coffee. She didn’t drink it black, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She didn’t want to complain too much or ask for too much or become too inconvenient for him to deal with.
“That presents a problem. What are you really offering me when you offer yourself in trade for your sister? What are you offering that would make such a trade worthwhile for me?”
She chanced a glance up at him. She’d suspected this was coming, the negotiation and pleading. She wondered if he’d make her beg him to enslave her like this. She’d do it. For Janette.
“Whatever you want. For her freedom.”
“You know what I want. We had a long conversation about it last night. I don’t just want sex from you. I want full and complete obedience. I want to own you.”
“I know.” But hearing him state it so baldly unnerved her. “H-how do I know she’s still alive?”
The Russian pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “The girl wants proof of life. Take the phone up to her sister.”
Annette wasn’t sure who in the house had answered the call but a few minutes later, Anton passed the phone to her.
“H-hello?”
“Annie! How did you get this number?”
Anton took the phone from her hand before she could respond. “Your sister will speak to you soon.” Then he disconnected the call and turned back to Annette.
“Satisfied?” he asked.
“You could have let me talk to her at least.”
“You asked for proof of life, not a reunion. You will speak to her soon enough. Now back to what you are offering in exchange for her. You would kneel at my feet and call me master and obey me completely just to set her free?”
She looked at the ground. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes. “Yes.”
“And how do I know this isn’t another of your lies? You are a very convincing liar after all. Maybe you think you’ll play me like you did last night.”
Annette set the cup on the table and slowly unzipped her dress. It took all her concentration just to keep her hands from shaking. She’d never been this brazen in real life but talk wasn’t going to convince him, and the only thought pounding her head was Get Janette out of here!
From the moment she’d started going through her closet to find this dress, she’d stopped thinking long term. It was all just about what do I have to do in this moment? If she thought any further down the road, her mind would spiral into terror and chaos, and she would be completely useless. She never would have been able to get into the car let alone find or make it to the house.
Annette let the garment fall gently to the floor, revealing lacy black lingerie underneath. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him.
“Master, please. Take me. Let her go.” She couldn’t believe those words had just come out of her mouth. But she had to make him believe this. She half believed it herself. Whatever it took to get Jan home safe.
His coffee cup clinked softly against the table top, and then he was closer, so close that it took everything inside her not to flinch. His fingers stroked through her hair.
She could barely breathe.
“I don’t know, kiska. It’s a lie. I don’t like lies or liars.”
Her lip quivered when she spoke. “Then punish me. Do whatever you want, just let her go. It’s my fault she’s here. I-I can’t live with that. Please don’t make me live with that.”
His hand moved to stroke the side of her cheek. “It’s a lie. I want something real.”
That was it? He was just going to kill them both outright just because she wasn’t what she’d said? She looked up at him, her resolve hardening. “Please, I can make it real. I will make it real.”
“An interview, I think. Then I’ll decide.”
***
Anton helped her off the floor and took her to the back of the spa to one of the rooms with a massage table. This was his element. He knew how to exist in this space. This was like Dome. But he’d never touched a woman on a massage table in the way he intended to touch this girl. He’d always kept those two worlds separate.
A surge of power flowed through him at the possibilities. He’d played his share of kinky games. He’d had full time subs. But never before had he had someone who was truly his in the most final and permanent way, someone who could go nowhere, someone who was truly his slave.
“I’m not giving you a safe word because this isn’t a game we’re playing. We’re in too deep to play.”
“W-what’s a safe word?”
She really had been pulling things out of her ass if she didn’t even know what a safe word was.
“It’s a word you say to get me to stop whatever I’m doing that is going too far or distressing you. It’s what actual kinky people tend to do… use a safe word. But this is not a game, and you are entirely at my mercy.” There would be no misunderstandings here. If he kept her, she would be his toy to play with when he felt like it. And she needed to understand those terms now. Not that he could really let her leave the house at this point anyway. She’d sealed her fate when she’d come here.
Or maybe he’d sealed all of their fates when he’d brought her sister here.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Are you going to hurt me?”
I don’t want to. But he wouldn’t show her a weakness she could manipulate to turn this one real thing into a mere shadow, a game. Instead he smiled. “Are you backing out?”
“What difference does that make? I knew when I drove through that gate I wasn’t coming back out. The only question was if Janette would. I knew you would do whatever you wanted with me if I came here.”
“Does that excite you?”
Her breath seemed to catch in her throat before she said, “No.”
But something in the way the electricity seemed to arc off her skin at the suggestion made him doubt.
“Liar. Take the lingerie off, shoes too, and lie down on your stomach on the table.”
“I-if I do this, you’ll let her go?”
“If I’m pleased with you, I will keep you instead. Unlike you, I’m not a liar.”
She flinched at that.
He crossed to the far end of the room and put on some calming spa music. He dimmed the lights and lit vanilla-scented candles. They smelled like her. She smelled so good. He just wanted to fuck the sweet vanilla scent right out of her. But what he needed in this moment was compliance and some sign that this arrangement wouldn’t be utter torment for her because he was still trying to hold onto the belief that he wasn’t a monster.
Anton wanted what she offered—probably too much—but he’d never seen himself as the type of person who would take it from an unwilling captive, no matter how many times he’d had that fantasy.
He laid out massage oils as well as a few things he’d bought special that he didn’t have at Dome. Lubricants, arousal creams. A few toys.
He didn’t watch her undress. He couldn’t bring himself to; he could hardly believe this was happening. Even as the guys had made plans and bought the house and made all sorts of rules to convince themselves what they were doing wasn’t evil, he hadn’t been sure it was really going to happen. Even with the purchase of the estate, it had still all been just talk.
And now, with Phyllis locked in one room, Janette in another, and Annette offering herself as his slave… things had gotten real very quickly. It didn’t matter what lies he told himself, he’d crossed the line. He was a felon now.
Anton had always thought of Brian as the felon. Brian was the one who liked to hurt people. And yet, Anton was the one with two hostages and a third about to become his slave.
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t take anyone who didn’t ultimately want this. There were so many kinky people out there who wanted something that felt more real. Plenty of men with a lot of money to burn, and women who longed for someone to serve and to have all their worldly needs met in exchange. Why not make some money out of that situation and get his own urges fed training them?
And yet, it didn’t matter if all involved parties agreed to it, selling people was a crime, and no judge in the country would see it otherwise. Besides, none of his prisoners thus far were very happy about the arrangement. What made him think he could do this better when the business was up and running?
“Anton?”
She was lying on her stomach on the table like he’d asked.
“Master,” he heard himself say.
“M-master. What if you aren’t pleased? What are you going to do with me? I know you can’t let me go. Are you going to kill me?”
He didn’t want to kill any of them. He wasn’t a killer. All he wanted was to somehow time travel and not kidnap her sister. Of all the idiotic...
“I don’t know.” With three hostages it looked more and more like he’d have to become a killer or go to prison. This was too many loose ends, and they hadn’t even gotten started yet. Maybe Brian could do the killing. He’d like that.
Annette had started crying. She was quiet, but not so quiet he couldn’t hear—or see the tremors move through her.
Anton carefully wiped the tears off her face. “Shhh, kiska. Don’t cry. You liked me last night.” At the club he’d wanted to take her to his apartment. He’d planned to get into the taxi with her, but she’d drunkenly slammed the door before he could get inside. And then she’d been gone.
“I wasn’t afraid then. What if you don’t like me enough to let her go?”
He stroked the side of her face, and she leaned into him, probably unconsciously. It was so twisted that that was her fear, that he wouldn’t enjoy degrading her enough to release her sister.
“So you aren’t upset about what’s about to happen here? Between the two of us?” He would take any small window to make him feel less evil for claiming this thing he so desperately wanted.
“If you don’t hurt me, no. I’m just afraid for Janette.”
The tough thing with liars was that you couldn’t ever be sure when they were telling the truth.
“You might be a liar, but you can’t fake the bravery it took to come here. I admire that.” He turned the music up a couple of notches. “Close your eyes, and just relax.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. When she let it out, he put his hands gently but firmly on her back. He started just as he did any normal massage. The only difference was that she wasn’t covered. Every inch of her was exposed to his hungry gaze, and still, all she cared about was her sister.
He didn’t speak as he slowly kneaded the muscles in her shoulders. It was easy to fall into the rhythm of things. If he didn’t do this for a living, he might be tempted to talk, but Anton had worked to cultivate a quiet calm energy that generally put his clients at ease.
As he touched her—innocently at first—it seemed his little cat was falling under the spell as so many had before her. Her skin was so perfect—so soft he would never grow tired of touching it. She had tan lines from an impressive golden tan, but underneath he could see that outside the reach of the sun’s kiss she was much fairer.
Her muscles were knotted so tight. But then, he imagined driving into the middle of nowhere to find your kidnapped sister wasn’t the most restful activity. He went through the entire massage sequence: shoulders, back, arms and hands, legs and feet. He wanted her to get used to his hands on her in a way that wasn’t too threatening. If he could acclimate her to his touch, it would be better.
After a while, he felt something clenched inside her let go. Surely she couldn’t think he was only going to give her a massage, and yet she gave herself over to his hands anyway.
“Are you asleep, kiska?” Her breath had evened out in the way of sleep, yet he couldn’t be sure. She probably hadn’t expected to get a professional massage tonight. And he didn’t get away with charging the rates he did at Dome by being anything less than the best.
“No,” she murmured.
“Good girl.” He was about to go off script, and he didn’t want her to be asleep for it. He stroked and rubbed over the pert globes of her ass. She was firm, yet also soft and yielding.
“Do you work out?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. I will expect you to continue doing that for me.” No one got an ass like this just by sitting on it. And they didn’t keep it that way, either.
There was a sharp intake of breath as his hand moved lower, between her legs. “Roll over onto your back.”
At this point Anton usually held the blanket up and looked away to protect the client’s privacy, but this time there was no barrier between him and the woman he touched. This time he drank his fill of her. As she rolled over, their eyes briefly met. He couldn’t read her expression. There was a bit of fear in there, but it didn’t feel like the type of fear of only moments before.
“What are you thinking about, pet? What are you afraid of?” The answers to these questions seemed obvious, but Anton was sure there was something else in there.
“What if I start to like you too much? What if I like the things you do to me?” she whispered.
He could see where that would be a problem for her. It was one thing for her to sacrifice herself to him to protect someone she loved. Noble, in fact. It was another for her to want him. Giving someone your body wasn’t the same as risking your heart, especially to someone who’d threatened your family.
He’d seen this fear and vulnerability in a lot of subs before. In the end, consent didn’t make a difference when it came to risk and pain. A woman could happily agree to everything you did to her, and in the end, you could still break her beyond repair. Sometimes it was worse to happily choose your own demise.
The few subs he’d had for longer than short-term play had considered their heart a much bigger risk than their body. Trusting someone not to hurt you was almost never about the risk of physical scars. It was always easier to get the body to submit. But the mind? The heart? The soul? Those were precious things one couldn’t always reach, even if she said all the right things and obeyed perfectly.
There was a deeper thing inside a woman. And he wasn’t sure he would ever touch it with Annette—not just because of how they met, but because he was sure she was the type of woman who would always lie to him.
Anton wasn’t even sure if he wanted anything of Annette beyond her body. The simple novelty of the arrangement was probably enough. Besides, he would be very busy once things got up and running at the house.
She’d closed her eyes again almost as soon as she’d rolled over, erecting a different kind of barrier between them. But he’d told her to close them.
Again, he performed the normal massage protocol. Arms, hands, legs, feet. Then shoulders and neck and head. A small moan escaped her when he reached the side of her neck, and she leaned into him like a cat might—and like his little cat should.
But then, once again, he left the script and stroked her belly—and those perfect better-than-porn breasts. Even when he’d moved to such vulnerable areas her breath continued to move in and out of her in a slow almost Zen-like state.
“Are you going to fuck me?” she asked. She was looking at him now, less fear and more assessment. She was a brave one. Especially under the circumstances. If Anton was a psychopath, he was an accidental one. But she had no way to know that.
“Would you open your legs for me like a good girl if I did choose to fuck you?”
A breath. A sigh. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Master.”
“If we do this, you will always address me that way, even around others, do you understand?”
A little fear, but then she said, “Yes, Master.”
Anton went to the sink to wash the oils off his hands. “Don’t move. I’m not finished with you yet.” He picked up the arousal cream. This was something he’d never used before—not just on massage clients, but ever. Michael had told him about it. His friend had used it a few times back when he’d had his own sub—before he’d met the straight-laced vanilla woman he’d married.
Michael had recommended a brand that he said was more potent than most, that it drove women absolutely wild, and it lasted a good full hour before the effects wore off. Anton was pretty sure this was all exaggeration. Maybe it was a placebo effect or old memory had heightened the perception of the cream. After all, he was sure Michael hadn’t used it on Vivian. Anton had never met her formally, but he’d seen her once from a distance across the way at a Japanese steakhouse they all liked. Stick up her ass didn’t even begin to describe it. There was no way she would submit to any of the things his friend liked. Not in a million years.
Anton picked up the cream and moved back to the massage table where Annette quietly waited. How could this woman even be real? In everything but looks, she was so different from her sister. Annette hadn’t fought and clawed at him like a wildcat. She didn’t try to run. And her few tears were for her sister.
“You might not have started kinky, but you will be when I’m finished with you. Spread your legs.”
Annette was a gift. A training test subject, someone all of them could train and teach and turn into the perfect slave. She could be a template for the others who would come after her—the ones who would later be sold.
She opened her legs until they fell over the edges of the table.
“Good girl. I very much like this view. And I love that you’re waxed.” The behavior had begun to become so common among women in their twenties that he was beginning to be shocked if he found hair when he took a woman to bed. Even so, seeing that bare, smooth skin always sent a jolt of pleasure through him.
Anton began to rub the cream between her legs. Her breathing deepened, and she arched her hips toward him the smallest amount. He was careful to cover every area that could become sexually excited. Her clit. Her labia. Her opening, which had already started to lubricate for him. He went back to the sink and washed his hands, then turned to watch the show Michael had promised would come.
It took a few minutes—during which he felt a bit foolish for believing his friend’s breathless review of the product. But then she began to writhe and squirm on the table.
“W-what did you do to me?”
“It’s just an arousal cream. The effects last about an hour. How do you feel?”
“Like I need to be touched right now!”
He chuckled. “And what will you do to be touched?”
She hesitated, but then the cream seemed to start working more intensely. She put her hand between her legs. Anton rushed over and smacked her on the leg.
“No! Don’t touch yourself ever unless I say you can. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, Master. Please. Please...”
“Again, I ask… what will you do to be touched?”
“A-anything. Please. Anything.”
He got an evil idea then. It was probably pushing her too hard too fast, but he wanted to see the limits of this magic cream. He’d need to know for the others they trained anyway.
“Get off the table and come with me.”
“W-where are we going?”
“No questions. Follow me.” He started to leave the spa. She followed as far as the door that led back into the main house then stopped and hovered around the door frame.
“N-naked?”
“Yes.”
“But...”
“They will all see you, so you may as well get used to it now. Too much for you, kiska? Reconsidering your offer?”
She paused and bit her bottom lip. Then she raised her chin as her jaw set in a firm, determined line. “No. I’m not reconsidering.”
“Good.” If she saw it as a challenge and was doing it just to prove she could… he didn’t care her motivation. He just wanted to see how far he could push while she was so turned on.
Unbelievably, she followed him out the door and down the hallway. He took her back to the game room and led her inside.
Brian looked up from his video game, his eyes seeming to darken to solid black. Lindsay and Gabe stopped playing pool, their jaws looking as though they had completely unhinged from their heads.
“Holy shit,” Gabe said.
Anton sat on the sofa next to Brian. Annette stood in the doorway, still several yards away, shy but obviously needing… someone… anyone to touch her. If Brian had walked over and started to finger her, she probably would have let him do it.
Anton motioned for her. “Crawl to me.”
She only hesitated a split second. Then got on her knees and crawled until she reached him. She stopped between his spread legs, her gaze down. This wasn’t a meaningful submissive gesture. More likely it was shyness or embarrassment. But the cream was still working its evil magic, and she still needed to be touched. She started to rub against his leg.
“Master… please. Please.”
“Jesus fuck,” Gabe said. “Did you drug her?”
“Of course not. It’s just the arousal cream.”
“You should buy that stuff by the case,” Brian said. He’d paused his game to watch this unfold.
“How many men have you fucked, kiska?” Anton wasn’t sure there was a point in asking. She’d probably just lie.
“T-two,” she said, whimpering.
Definitely a lie.
“Bullshit,” Brian said.
“I wish the playrooms were set up,” Anton said.
“I’ve already got a few things down in the dungeon. Not much, but a few restraints and a spanking horse,” Brian said.
Anton shook his head. “No. We have an hour before this stuff wears off. Let’s use the pool table.”
Lindsay shoved all the balls into the pockets.
“Hey!” Gabe said. “I was winning!”
“And you will likely win again,” Lindsay said. “Hardship builds character.”
Gabe flipped him off. Brian laughed.
Anton looked down at Annette still kneeling at his feet. Tension knotted her shoulders. Whatever he was going to do, he was going to have to do it soon before her fear overtook her arousal.
“Brian, go get me some rope.”
“Happily.”
Anton stroked the side of her throat, and again she leaned into him. “Come, kiska,” he helped her up off the ground and over to the pool table. “Lie down on your back and spread your legs.”
Now she looked scared, like her sister had downstairs. He slipped his hand between her legs. She was so wet, her clit engorged and unbelievably swollen. That was heavy fear to overcome such a response.
But as he stroked her, the fear melted off her face. She closed her eyes. Her head fell back, and a small moan left her throat. That was more like it.
“Remember what you asked me for. We’re all going to touch you. We’re going to make you feel very good. Isn’t that what you want, pet?”
“Y-yes.”
She still couldn’t seem to bring herself to call him Master in front of Gabe and Lindsay. He let it slide this one time. It was an interview after all, and he was willing to grade on a curve.
It took Brian way too long to return with the rope.
“It was packed away in a box at the back. I had to dig it out.”
Anton had rope, but he hardly thought Annette wanted to see her sister’s blood right now.
She didn’t fight them when they tied her down spread-eagled to the table, but something wasn’t right. Well, none of this was right, but something really wasn’t right. Once again she reminded him of her sister down in the dungeon. That look in her eyes. It was haunted. It wasn’t the look he wanted. Dammit.
“Leave,” Anton said to the others, still studying her face.
“Why?” Brian said.
“Because she’s mine, and I said so.” Not the most suave reply, but they left the room with only moderate grumbling from Brian.
Anton carefully untied the ropes around Annette’s wrists and ankles and helped her off the table. He led her to the couch and held her close while she cried.
“Bring them back. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. Please, Master,” she said.
“Absolutely not.”
“So that’s it, then? I don’t pass your test? What now? Are you going to just kill us?”
Oh. That.
“Kiska, I am still considering setting your sister free in exchange for you. But this was too much for you tonight. Whatever you think, I’m not a sociopath.”
“Then why not just let us both go? What if we promised not to say anything about any of this… just… just let it go?”
“I’m also not a saint. You were so brave back in the spa with me, what changed?”
She’d calmed a little by this point. “It was just too many at one time. I’ve only been with the two guys before and...”
Wait… that was true? Shit. If she wasn’t such a liar, he wouldn’t have to constantly question the veracity of everything she said.
There was a knock and then the door opened to reveal Gabe holding a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “I thought she might want these if that’s okay with you. I thought she might be more comfortable.”
Anton nodded and took the clothing. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Gabe left them alone again.
He was about to give her the clothes to put on but she had straddled his leg and had started to rub against him. What the hell? At first he thought this was an attempt to seduce him to save her sister, but then he remembered the arousal cream.
Now that the guys were gone and he’d calmed her a little, the magic powers of the cream came roaring back to life. He wasn’t even completely sure she was aware that she was doing it.
“Pet?”
“Yes, Master?”
“Do you want to come?”
A blush crept into her cheeks, and she looked away. Yet she continued to grind on him like some mindless animal.
“Go lie down on the pool table and spread your legs for me.”
Some of the spell from earlier in the spa was broken. Still, the combined power of the threat to her sister, as well as the arousal cream, caused her to obey him with only a brief hesitation.
Anton slowly circled the table, assessing her. If he watched very closely he could see her pulse jumping in her throat. Her breath came out in long, measured pulls as she seemed to be trying actively to calm herself down.
He took one of the balls out of the pocket and pressed it against her mound and began to roll it against her sensitized flesh. As soon as the ball touched her, she started to squirm and moan.
“Good girl,” he said.
She didn’t speak a word to him. She begged him with nothing but her eyes. He could see the struggle playing across her face. She wanted him. She’d wanted him at the club the night before, and she wanted him with the same intensity now. Part of it was the cream no doubt. But part of it was the energy between them. He’d felt it the night before; even with her drunk off her ass, he’d wanted her in a way so complete and primal it had scared even him.
“Please,” she finally said. “Please.”
For a moment, he thought she’d snapped back to her senses, but the way she arched toward him and spread her legs wider, he knew she needed to come. He set the ball aside and began to stroke her directly. He went from finger fucking her, to rubbing her swollen bud until she arched fully off the table, bracing herself with her hands. She came with something between a scream and a moan.
Almost immediately, once her pleasure had passed, she drew in on herself and curled into a ball looking away from him.
“Kiska?”
“Yes, Master?”
It was barely above a whisper.
He gently caressed her back for several minutes, then he retrieved the clothes Gabe had brought and placed them on the edge of the pool table.
“You can put these on and go see your sister. She’s on the second floor, third door on the left.”
When Annette had dressed, she got off the table on shaky legs. Anton helped steady her. She didn’t resist when he pulled her into an embrace and kissed the top of her head. More than anything, he wanted to comfort her right now. He wanted this woman more than he had ever wanted anything. And he didn’t want her terrorized.
Her shoulders began to shake, and he realized she had started to softly cry again.
“You’re okay, kiska. Everything is okay.”
“Thank you,” she said, unable to look him in the eyes.
“For what?”
“For showing me mercy tonight. Please, if you take me in trade, I promise I’ll do better. I’ll be yours however you want. I just got overwhelmed.”
He had thought he just wanted a fuck toy. Someone to own. Someone to tease and torment. But something about the slight brave blonde was about to undo him. She had already crawled somewhere inside his heart, and though he couldn’t bring himself to set her free, he felt as though he’d been entrusted with her somehow. He didn’t want to fuck this up.
“Are you going to let my sister go?”
“Give me a little more time to think about it.”
She looked up at him finally, then, the tears shining in her eyes. Oh, this woman could break him.
“Please. She’s pre-med. She has a future. I want her to have her future. I’ll give you anything you want—for the rest of my life if I have to—but I have to know she can have the life she’s worked so hard for.”
“Just go see her, and let me think.”
She seemed to sense she was pushing too hard and nodded and excused herself.
When she’d gone, Anton sighed and leaned back on the sofa. It would be really good if they could get rid of at least one of their three liabilities—if they could trust that Janette wouldn’t cause problems.
The guys had agreed not to kill Phyllis when she’d made her exceptional cooking skills known. Not only was that kind of food too great a temptation for four bachelors who didn’t want to cook for themselves or have take-out every day, it was a useful skill for the house. They’d agreed to let her run the kitchen.
It was fortunate that Phyllis lived alone with cats, didn’t go out much, and worked part time as a from her home. She’d once worked with an agency, but had gone independent and was half retired by now anyway. Make that fully retired now.
People would definitely miss Janette if she never came back. They probably wouldn’t find her, but they would miss her. If she was allowed to return to her life, she could make up a reason for her sister’s absence. Short of killing everyone, this was the tidiest ending they could hope for.
While he considered all this, the other guys wandered back into the game room. Brian took his seat next to Anton on the sofa but didn’t turn on the gaming system. Lindsay and Gabe sat in plush comfortable chairs nearby.
“Are you keeping her?” Gabe asked.
“Yes, but she came here to trade for her sister.”
“Fuck no,” Brian said. “We can’t let anybody go. We can’t trust Janette. She’ll go crying to the police the second she gets free, and then we’re all fucked. I say we kill her.”
Anton shook his head. “I can’t do that, not after everything Annette is willing to give up for her.” She’d passed his interview the second she’d dropped to her knees in the spa and begged him to take her. And every second beyond that had only sealed things further.
“Well, I can do it,” Brian said. “We could just pretend to set her free and then kill her.”
“I said no. I wouldn’t be able to look Annette in the eyes.”
“So don’t let her look you in the eyes. She’s your slave isn’t she? You make the rules. Or we could just kill them both, and then we’re back to just having Phyllis around. I say we do that. It’s cleaner.”
Brian was far too eager to start building a body count.
“No!” Anton said. “Annette is mine.” He’d always know Brian had some serious psychological issues, but it was still hard to believe he was this cold. Anton had never been more glad that they’d agreed to be equal partners. If Brian had been in charge, no one would ever be safe in this house.
“Let’s vote. All in favor of killing the twins,” Brian said, raising his hand.
Lindsay raised his hand, which surprised Anton.
“What?” the older man said, “He makes a good point. I don’t think Janette can be trusted to keep her mouth shut. She’ll break. I’ve seen her type. And if you kill her but keep Annette, then she’ll be nothing but trouble. Brian’s right. It’s not pretty, but it’s what needs to be done.”
Gabe stared at the ground, his hands firmly gripping the edges of the chair as if to reinforce his no vote. “We can’t vote with four. It’s an even number.”
“Come on, Gabe. You know it’s what has to be done,” Brian said. “We can’t keep her and let her sister go. How would that work?”
“If you kill them, you’ll have to kill me, too,” Gabe said, “because I won’t stick around for that. I didn’t sign on for this. I’m here for some kinky sex with willing women. That was the way the game was sold to me.”
The game had been sold a lot of ways. Unfortunately, none of them were true, and Anton was only now coming to understand that.