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His Prisoner by Jesse Jordan (23)

Jessica

“You look like hell.”

“I feel like heaven though,” I grunt, pivoting and throwing an elbow at the pad Larissa's holding. We're in the hills above the villa, and it feels thrilling to be training with my friend out in the open beyond the walls of the villa. We met up here, me jogging up and finding her here, already prepared for our first 'advanced training session.' “Last night changed me.”

“I can tell,” she says, moving the small target. “So how rough was he?”

“We took it to the edge,” I reply honestly, feeling comfortable talking with Larissa about it. She's probably done as much if not more, and she never judges. If anything, I think she understands and I know she likes the same things I do. “Bound, rope around my neck, electrostim... it was intense.”

“And you're still walking?” Larissa says, half amazed. “Last time I tried using electrostim on myself, I spent the next day curled up in bed drinking ouzo and eating baklava.”

“It was an electrostim butt plug,” I add proudly, throwing a kick. My words stun Larissa though and her hand relaxes, the pad falling away just in time for my foot to connect squarely with her thigh. “Oooh! Sorry. You okay?”

“You took an electrostim plug and liked it?” Larissa asks. She rubs her leg, still looking shocked. “I should bow down to you, nobody's ever pushed me that far. What was it like?”

“Hurt like hell at first,” I reply with a laugh before growing serious. “But then, the good feelings started in too, and... have you ever taken any of the drugs you guys ship, Larissa?”

Larissa shakes her head, a little touch of disgust crossing her face. “No. I don't need the weak release of drugs. Why, have you?”

I chuckle, shaking my head back and forth. “No, but as part of one of my Master's degree classes we went into the whole chemistry behind drugs, and that included a trip to a rehab center. One of the people I talked to, they were heavy into the psychedelics, mescaline, peyote, shit like that. He described a good trip like transcending the world, going to a higher, better place. When I felt Master come inside me Larissa, it pushed me to that plane. It was like going to a whole different world.”

Larissa swallows, and I can see in her eyes that she's slightly jealous, and maybe a little sad at the same time, but also proud of me. “I can no longer be your teacher in the sensual arts, Jessica. You have far surpassed me.”

I reach out, taking her hand and clasping it to my chest. “No, my friend. I would never have been able to be there for my Master if it weren't for you. You will always be my teacher... and my friend.”

Larissa smiles, her hand twitching. “Is that all it takes to cop a feel of your boobs?”

I laugh, letting her hand go and step back. “Something like that.”

“So have you said it to him?” Larissa asks, and I raise an eyebrow. “You know exactly what I mean. That you love him.”

Love. I haven't heard that word from Larissa or Rodrigo ever, other than in casual use that could mean 'really like.' I love cheese, I'd love a back rub, stuff like that. But the way Larissa's saying it....

“That's pretty difficult, Larissa. I'm a slave, he's my Master. Just because I'm happy that way...”

“You Americans are so full of shit,” Larissa says with a harsh laugh. “It's because your fucking English is so limited. You throw around the word love almost as much as you use the word fuck. We Greeks do it better. In Ancient Greek, there's four words that you translate as love, you know that?”

“A little,” I admit. “I took French though in school though.”

“What you and I feel, that's philia, the love between friends and equals. And yes, I consider you my equal Jessica. What you first had for Rodrigo, eros. You can guess what that means,” she says, her lips twitching. “You and I, we're experts in eros, although yours is naturally light while mine can be quite dark.”

“In other words, he made me horny as hell and I loved getting fucked by him,” I say ironically, and Larissa nods. “So what are you saying now? That I don't?”

“No, far from it. You can feel eros for him now more than ever. But what you're also feeling is agape, the unconditional love that most people think of as God for his children, but can also mean total, complete trust and love for another person. Remind you of any feelings you have?” she says, her lips twitching. “Don't lie to me, Jessica. I can read people like a book.”

I sigh, then nod. “So what if I do, Larissa? Yes, I'd follow him to the ends of the earth, and I'd throw myself in front of a train to save him. I will obey him without question for the rest of my life if he lets me. Fuck, yesterday I literally placed my life in his hands, no safe word, no way to free myself and had the most intense, mindblowing experience I think anyone could ever feel. But what if he doesn't feel the same way? If he doesn't, then what does it matter if I tell him or not? He lets me remain as his slave, and while it's not perfect, it's a damn sight better than what I could have with any other man in the world.”

“It can change your world even more than you've already changed it,” Larissa says with a soft, sad smile. “Jessica, I know what Rodrigo thinks about me. He thinks I might be a sociopath, and I'll admit that he may be right. I do know that I've never felt agape, and I'm starting to wonder if I can ever feel it. But I also very much know what it looks like, and I've seen the way you and Rodrigo interact.”

“And the fact that we get off by having extremely dangerous kinky sex? Hell, I was having an internal discussion with myself last night wondering if he'd go the whole candle wax and burn thing on me. Even our mild sex has a kink to it.”

Larissa laughs. “Candles are fun. And there's nothing wrong with liking what you like. Jessica, take a hint from a criminal and someone who also likes what you like sexually. Who the fuck cares what other people think? If you feel for him, and he feels for you, I don't care if you both get off from the training room, or if you want to have sex in a bathtub full of olive oil in the middle of a crowd of strangers, or if you just do the straight lights off missionary position once a month for five minutes. Although that last one is far too boring for the likes of us, isn't it?”

I laugh, nodding, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good,” Larissa says, positioning her targeting pad again. “Now, let's see what you remember of the knees that we practiced.”

We keep going, and towards the end even I have to admit that my body is getting worn down, I haven't fully recovered from last night and Master. Finally, Larissa stops me, and she leads me around the curve in the hill to her car, which I'm surprised to find isn't some sort of sexy sports car, but a rather plain looking four door Fiat. “Wow... uh, I would have expected something more....”

“Lamborghini?” Larissa asks, and I nod. She laughs, opening the driver's side door. “I already have one. Just not here. See you around.”

She drives off, and I look down the road, regretting the fact that I told Larissa that I'd be happy to jog back to the villa. At least I'm not being timed as I start off, going slowly to let my tired muscles cool down. It also gives me a chance to think as I slow to a walk. I need to think more than I need the extra exercise.

Larissa's right. I do care for Rodrigo in a way that transcends me being his slave, his friend, or just his sex partner. And maybe he feels the same way. I mean, last night he took that moment to loosen the cord around my neck just a little, and the way he kissed me... the way he kisses me in general is almost as good as the way we fuck.

Okay, I decide as I crest the last little hillock and start cutting cross country towards Rodrigo's villa. When he gets home, I'll make him a nice dinner, sit down... and then I'll ask him about how he feels if I do stay with him permanently. As more than his slave. If he says no, that I'm to remain his slave and that I'm to wear this silver collar for the rest of my life, then I'll be content with that. Better to have Rodrigo as my Master only than to not have him at all.

My path takes me to the back of the villa, and I circle around, heading for the main gate. Tomorrow Rodrigo said that he's going to get the gate fixed so that we can use the remote control system again, but for now the gate has to be left open, which I don't like but it's only for one more day. As I approach I pull out my pistol, part of my training with Larissa was on how to shoot properly. We didn't do any actual shooting, but a lot of dry firing in addition to the basic Krav Maga moves that she went over with me. Still, I feel better as I approach the house, my key in my left hand.

I'm halfway up the steps when I hear the scrape of a boot on the dirt behind me and I try to turn, but my feet aren't on the same level and I stumble slightly, having to go a little more slowly. That time is precious, because in it I feel the sting of something hit me in the thigh, and suddenly I can't really control my body. I sag to the steps, lucky that I don't go tumbling head over heels down the steps to break my neck. I can see though still, kind of, and I can still hear as two men approach, coming out of the shadows further to look me over.

“Is she?” one asks, and I try to focus my eyes, but I'm having problems. The other one looks me over, then nods.

“Yeah, she's alive. She's not going to give us any problems though.” He snaps my fingers in front of my face, laughing harshly when I blink. “Good stuff, disables the big muscles, leaves you able to breathe and awake. How're you doing, American bitch?”

“Fuck... you...,” I whisper in a tiny voice, the most I can manage. The second man laughs, and slaps my face hard. If there's any justice in this world, he'll pay for that. Preferably with Rodrigo ripping his balls off.

“Come on,” the first man says, getting his friend's attention. “The Sultan wants her as untouched as possible. You get her in the van, I'll get the note.”

The second man grabs me and pulls me to my feet before slinging me over his shoulder with a grunt. “Damn... I need more exercise.”

“What, you think those tits and ass weigh nothing?” the first man laughs harshly. “You just need to stop fucking drugged out teenagers and get some experience with a real woman like her. Too bad The Sultan's got other plans for her.”

“Maybe,” the second man says as he carries me. I can't see much except his ass and the ground as he lugs me out the gate, I recognize the track for that, turning left whereas I came around from the other side. He slides the door open on a van before setting me down with a grunt. At least he cradles my head to make sure I don't crack my skull on the cold metal floor. Once down, he takes a look at me again.

“Omar's right. You are one hot piece of ass. Maybe I can talk The Sultan into letting me fuck you before he kills you. That'd be worth the bonus on this job at least.”

I laugh, or at least I breathe more heavily, and whisper again. “Master's... gonna... kill... you.”

“Master, huh? Heard Rodrigo was a kinky motherfucker. Doesn't matter. Although maybe you'll like me tying you up some then.”

I can't resist as he binds me up and slams the door, going around to the driver's side and getting in. The engine starts up, and I close my eyes, praying to the God that Rodrigo goes to confession for that he looks after my Master and love.

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