Cassie
When we got into the room the energy changed. Before, I had been freaking out, and angry because I was freaking out. But now I was just tired. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and a deep sense of resignation had settled in. I felt that, no matter what, I would never be getting out of there and away from him. I just wanted to go, that was all. I wanted to go home, go to bed, to pretend that this had all been just a bad dream.
It was a dream! Oh, it had to be!
I pinched myself in the arm. I closed my eyes and pinched myself again. When I opened them again, I was still in Mason’s room, dressed in stripper clothes.
"Useless," I muttered.
“What are you doing?” Mason asked.
“Pinching myself,” I answered.
“Okay… Why?”
I turned to look at him.
“Because this is a nightmare. I am trying to pinch myself awake.”
“What?” he laughed.
"Are your ears painted on?" I asked, earning a fierce glare from Mason. "I didn't think so. Now stop laughing at me and take me home."
He stopped laughing and stared at me. I stood in the middle of the dark room with my hands on my hips, glaring at him. I wondered why he didn’t say anything in response to my demand. Was he going to laugh again? Or maybe he was considering my plea.
“Well?” I demanded.
“Get on the bed, and shut up.”
My stomach tightened in knots at the low growl that came from his voice. It wasn’t a nervous, scared knot. No, it was one of want and passion. I was nervous, yes, but only because the thoughts that raced through my mind were of him taking me back at the auction house. I’d enjoyed it. It had hurt at first, and had been too fast and sudden, but I had somehow liked the roughness and the way he’d taken control.
It was wrong. I knew this, but I couldn’t help but think about it and what it had felt like to have him inside me. I’d always imagined that my first time would be soft, tender and loving, not rough and hard like it had been with Mason. I was ashamed to admit that I’d enjoyed the feeling.
Did I want more? Did I want him to ‘finish his business’?
I gulped as his eyes looked me up and down like they had the first time he’d entered the bedroom at the auction house. I heard a low growl come from him as his dark eyes undressed me. I felt so self-conscious. No one had ever looked at me the way he was looking then. I peered down at what I was wearing. My legs were dirty and the bra was lopsided, revealing most of my breasts. I felt naked. I felt I should cover up. But my hands refused to respond.
I shook my head.
No, this can't happen, not again. I would call it a mistake, but it hadn’t been my fault to begin with. He’d taken me, in more ways than one. And it was his fault that I was still here.
“Please.”
“What?” he sighed, as if I was trying his patience.
“Please, just let me go. Please.”
“Take your clothes off. Every item.”
He turned and locked the door, and started shuffling out of his boots.
I froze where I stood. I couldn't do this. It was so wrong. Mason knew this, he had to. I shook my head.
"I won't. You can't make me."
"I can make you. Not something I want to do. But I'll make you see how much you want this."
I shook my head.
“Stop saying that. I don’t want this!”
“Take off your clothes or…”
"Or what?" I interrupted. "What will you do? Huh?"
I pushed him backward out of anger.
I didn't even see Mason grab the ball gag from the dresser. The next thing I knew, he had me face down on the bed.
The ball was the most uncomfortable thing I have ever felt in my mouth. The way it sat, keeping my jaw open and stopping me from making any sound, was degrading.
“I hate you!” I tried to scream, but it came out as nothing more than an inaudible muffle.
"You don't,” Mason sniggered. “How can you when I make you so hot and wet.”
I guess he had understood what I’d said.
“Should have left you bound.”
He climbed off me long enough to remove his clothing and then mine.
I caught a look at Mason's body for the first time. He was taller and more muscular than I’d realized, with tattoos covering most of his body and a few scars here and there. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and he knew it. I didn't want to stare at him, but I found it impossible to tear my eyes away from his body. How could I when he looked the way he did?
My breathing quickened. My chest rose and fell unevenly as I thought about everything that was coming and everything that had happened earlier. I didn't want to admit it, but I had enjoyed it. It had felt so wrong and so good at the same time. And when I’d grabbed his balls, I’d felt so sorry for having to hurt him because he’d felt so good in my hands.
My mind caught up to what was going on then, and I started to try and get the gag off me. Mason was too quick though, and he roughly pulled my panties off, undid the clasps of the bra, and nearly tore it off to expose my breasts.
He groaned, making me shudder when he came down on top of me, practically forcing my legs open. I felt his hardness at my opening, and I remembered from before the feeling of being so full. Then the tingling pain between my legs reminded me how rough he had been previously. I wasn't sure if I wanted it now or not.
I pushed his chest. But he grabbed my wrists, holding them secure with only one hand, and pinned my arms to the bed above my head. I squealed when I felt his other hand between my legs, his fingers moving in circular motions around my clit, massaging the bud with a slow and gentle caress.
His hand dipped lower and he pushed two fingers inside me. It felt tight and sensitive, like it was too soon to be doing this after my first time. His fingers changed position and started rubbing against my inner walls, and I couldn't stop the moan that escaped me.
I clenched my eyes shut as Mason started moving his fingers faster, each motion bringing on something I hadn't felt before. I moaned as my walls clenched around his fingers and my body betrayed me.
My hips thrust upwards of their own free will. I opened my eyes in time to see him grinning down at me. It wasn’t a nice grin. It was a feral one, like the grin of a wolf that’s cornered its prey. It told me he had all the power, and that he knew it.
I tensed and tried again to push him off me.
He withdrew his fingers and rolled me onto my stomach in one swift movement. His legs pushed mine apart and, in a single hard drive, he thrust inside me.
He was harder than before, but didn't hurt as it had previously. He didn't wait for me to adjust before he started pumping hard and fast.
Unfinished business, the words flashed through my mind again.
I felt angry at him. I could feel my wetness as it dampened the sheets beneath me, and I hated how he made me like this.
His hand wrapped around my hair, twisting and pulling it tightly. I fought against the rough and sudden tug. But when Mason ran a finger under me and moved it in circular motions on my sensitive nub again, I couldn't resist the moan and the deep relaxation that washed over my body.
I muffled out against the gag as I used my hands to push me up a little.
“No,” Mason growled, and he pushed me back down, his hand tangled in my dark locks.
I didn’t fight him this time and let him do what he was doing. I felt warm, and my stomach clenched in time to the twitching of my legs. Something was building inside me, and something was building in Mason at the same time. His cock started to harden even more, and it rubbed against the same sensitive spot inside me that his fingers had been hitting before.
My legs tightened, trying to close, but Mason's firm thighs kept me in place with my ass in the air and face on the bed. A fire was burning inside me, fighting for freedom. I kept holding it in, but it got to the point where I couldn't keep it in anymore. My entire body clenched and shook as my walls tightened around Mason's cock. At the same time, he hardened and pushed inside me a few more times, before he pulled out and pushed me away.
I stopped myself right before I rolled off the bed. It was only then I realized how rapidly I was breathing. The room had grown hot. Sweat clung to my forehead and my breasts. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, before I reached around to get the gag out of my mouth.
After a minute, I finally managed to work the strap undone. I sat up and felt my legs shaking. A tingling sensation ran all the way from my lower stomach down to my toes. My legs were weak and heavy as I tried to move them.
I groaned from the sensation and looked down at the sensitive spot between my legs. My nub was swollen and bright pink, and the insides of my thighs were slick. Our juices were mixing together, slowly seeping from my body, reminding me of my own arousal and Mason's hardness.
I gasped when his calloused fingers wrapped around my breast. It wasn't rough, but it was enough to shock me into moving away.
Mason laughed.
"Still afraid of me?"
“Leave me alone,” I replied. “You did this to me. This is all your fault.”
“You wanted this too. Stop lying to yourself and admit that you had fun and want me to take you again like that.”
“I want you to let me go,” I retaliated.
He shook his head.
"That ain't ever going to happen. So, stop whining and get over it."
“Why are you doing this?”
Mason didn't reply. I didn't expect his hand to reach over and grab me between the legs.
I moaned at the sudden contact, but felt my legs tighten around his hand.
Was it to stop him from going lower, or did I want him to keep it there?
"A little sensitive?"
His hand dipped lower, and my body shuddered as a finger slid into my pussy.
"You're fucking wet."
"Please," I panted.
"You came hard, and you'll want it again."
He removed his hand, making me immediately miss it. I shook my head.
“In your dreams,” I said, clenching my jaw.
Mason climbed out of bed and walked over to the dressing table on the other side of the room. He opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a few items, tossing some me and dropping others on top of the dressing table, before slamming the drawer shut.
"Put these on and quit your whining. I'm sick of it."
He held up a hand to forestall my pending protests.
"Don't, Cassie. Just don't. Or I’m going to tie you up, gag you, and leave you in the corner of the room until I need you again. Understand?"
A cold shiver ran down my spine. I nodded.
“Good. Now put these on and stay here. If you try to leave, I’ll put your back on the block.”
I nodded again, a few tears wetting the corners of my eyes. I was going to say okay or something else, but the words got stuck in the back of my throat and I couldn't say anything.
I didn't move a muscle until Mason finished dressing and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Once he left, I sniffled and quickly dabbed at the corners of my eyes with my palms to brush away the tears. Crying wouldn't do any good in this situation. He cared none so far, and I didn't expect him to start. I reached for the clothes he had tossed me.
I looked at the items. Jeans, belt, bra, panties, plain tee, and hoody. There were no socks or shoes, but the items were clean and in decent condition.
Why did he have women’s clothes? And why were they all in my size?
Standing up on shaking legs, I dressed quickly then walked over to the dresser. My sensitivity from everything Mason had just made me feel was evident in the way I walked – like a newborn giraffe.
I carefully opened each drawer and looked inside. Without rummaging around too much in the already disorderly drawers, I saw the top two were filled with men's items that had to be Mason's, and the bottom one – the one he’d pulled the clothing from - was almost empty. There were a few pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, long sleeve shirts, a jacket, socks and other underclothes, but nothing else. And they were all women's clothes.
I closed the drawer and shook my head. The items were all plain and not new, but they were all in good condition. Were they a friend’s, maybe a girlfriend’s? Perhaps they were for helpless victims like me.
I started crying again, wondering about the possible reasons as to why these clothes could be here and why I was here. Would this be my life? A plaything or whatever for Mason?
I closed the drawer and had just sat back down on the bed when the sound of gunshots rang out.
I leaped to my feet and looked around the windowless room wide-eyed. I ran towards the door, remembering what Mason had said to his friend about people planning an attack. I hoped that what I heard was just someone letting off a few shots by mistake, but I feared that Mason had been right and we were all going to be shot and killed.
I reached the door and pulled it open, to see men running from a few of the rooms, shouting at each other. I took no real notice of them though. It was the guns in their hands that caught my attention. I looked around and went back to the room to find some shoes. This could be a chance to escape and, if I didn't try now, I might not get another opportunity. Or I might be killed before the night was out.
I rummaged through the room, finding nothing in my size.
“What are you doing?” I jumped back at the sound of Mason’s voice.
He grabbed me by the elbow and yanked me out the door and downstairs.
"What's going on?"
"Shut up, and no more talking!" he growled.
But this time, it was different. This time, I could hear a tinge of fear in his voice.
I said nothing.