Maria
I stayed silent. My body locked tight, refusing to move any muscle. A frozen picture in time.
I dared not to move my eyes up. I dared not look up at this strange man with a strange voice.
The way he spoke was with authority, his voice deep and rough as it caressed my body.
I stayed kneeling down beside my Master as this new master spoke. They were talking about me, I knew that. I could feel their eyes on me.
My skin crawled with disgust. I hated it when they gazed upon my naked body, stripped bare of everything. Even my dignity. My pride.
I had nothing left.
Nothing belonged to me anymore.
I was wholly his. Every part of me belonged to him—my Master.
And I hated every single day of it.
I wished, prayed, and hoped for my Prince Charming to come. Maybe he would come on a beautiful white horse. He would look at me with love and sweep me away. He was going to save me from the bad men. We would ride off in the sunset, toward his castle.
And there, he would love me with his whole heart.
We would live happily ever after.
But it was only a dream. A fantasy I built up in my head so I could stay alive.
When my Master touched me, I closed my eyes and pretended he was my Prince Charming.
I kept pretending. Every single minute of my life, I pretended this was not my reality.
But sometimes it was hard. When the pain got too much, when the screams would not stop, I could not hide anymore.
When it felt like my insides were being ripped open, I could not hide. I had to face my reality.
And it was yet another day. I was naked again. Most of the time, we were kept naked.
They said it was for easier access. For them to do whatever they wanted with our bodies.
We were told to bear our marks—their marks—with pride. When our bodies were blue and green, we bore them with pride. We paraded around, showing how good our Masters were to us.
The process repeated. Day after day. Night after night.
Some of the women have been here since they were children. Others when they were only teenagers. But no one was older than twenty.
I was taken eight months ago.
Eight months ago, I was eighteen years old.
Two months ago, I turned nineteen.
Every month, Master reminded me of the date I was taken. It was our anniversary.
I kept counting the months in my head, trying not to lose that small glimpse of the outside world. Desperately trying to keep hold of the string of what was left of me.
Unlike what Master thought, I had not lost my sanity yet.
I was still very much alive.
He thought I was dead.
He thought I was the perfect slave.
He thought I was just another pet. Another doll to play with. Another puppet with whom to do whatever he wanted.
But I had not lost my hope yet.
He thought he owned me.
But he was wrong. So, so wrong.
He might own my body.
But my soul…my thoughts…they were mine.
He could not take that away from me. My soul did not belong to him. My thoughts did not belong to him.
And my heart…it would never be his.
“She is yours?”
His voice snapped me back to the present. Not my Master.
But him.
For an unknown reason, I almost forgot all my training and wanted to lift my head up.
I wanted to see him. To see the man whose voice had caused things to happen in my body.
After so long, I felt something. A strange shiver down my spine.
After being numb for so long, he made me feel something.
What it was, I didn’t understand.
“For now. Until I can get the highest buyer. For now, I’ll just enjoy her until I decide otherwise,” Master muttered drily, his fingers trailing down my spine.
I fought the urge to retch. Every time he touched me, I had to fight against myself. I had to remind myself that I was the perfect pet.
I had to accept this touch. No matter how much I hated it.
The man was silent for what felt like a very long time.
And I felt suddenly desperate for him to speak again. For him to gift me the power of his voice to silent my demons.
“Are you bidding tonight?” Master asked.
“No,” the man snapped.
From my position, with me still kneeling and my forehead pressed against the hard floor, my eyes widened.
Nobody would see this small action. It was my secret.
My breath stuck in my throat. Was he not part of this cartel? Did he not buy slaves?
I listened to them talk. Master suggested the man have a night with me.
My body tightened, waiting for his response.
When he refused, I let out a small breath. So small that nobody would notice.
Was it disappointment? Or relief?
I did not how to feel. Even though I have not laid eyes on this man yet, he was making me feel out of control.
Did he not want me?
Master’s friends always wanted a night with me when they visited. They would say I was their favorite. That I was beautiful.
Did that man not find me beautiful?
I felt ashamed when I realized I cared. His thoughts suddenly mattered to me.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I closed my eyes. I inhaled and exhaled. My muscles stayed locked as he started to walk away.
His warmth faded, leaving me numb and cold again.
Master touched my neck, caressing my back. The soft touch did not last long before his nails dug into my hips, leaving his mark. I always bore his mark.
Even my weak body felt used to it now. His beatings. The endless hours of torture.
It was painful. It hurt more than I could describe, but all I had to do was shut my mind and float away to a magical land with my Prince Charming.
His hands moved upward to my neck, and he gripped it hard. Master pulled me to my knees, but I kept my head bowed down, my eyes on the floor.
I wouldn’t dare to look up. It was a mistake I had done many times. But just like a lesson was learned for every mistake, I learned my lesson too.
In a much harder way.
Master always found ways to hurt me. New creative ways, he liked to call it.
His breath was close to my ear. I didn’t flinch when he licked down my neck, leaving a wet trail.
Disgust rolled off me in angry waves, yet I could do nothing.
“I want you to go there and suck his dick in that pretty mouth of yours. Make him feel good. And then I want you to come back with your mouth full of his cum.”
His words were crude and angry. Dangerous and commanding.
So I did as I was commanded. For he was the Master and I was the pretty doll at his service.
There was no changing that. No matter how much my mind fought it.
No matter how much I hated it.
Getting on my hands and knees again, I kept my head bowed. He slapped my butt, and with his silent permission, I crawled toward the man.
I was halfway across the room when I realized I didn’t know who the man was. I didn’t know who I was crawling to, who I was supposed to pleasure.
It was forbidden to look into the eyes of a Master…not until we were commanded to. In that small moment, I broke the first rule.
My head tilted slightly upward, my gaze quickly scanning the room. My heart drummed wildly against my ribcage, scared that I would get caught and be punished.
All that fear and panic disappeared the second I laid eyes on the man in front of me.
He sat on the couch, only a few feet away from me. His legs were stretched open as he settled against the seat, his head tilted toward the ceiling. I could tell his eyes were closed.
My eyes tracked his movement when he tugged at his tie, almost frustrated. My breath caught in my throat and my heart accelerated again.
I did not realize I was crawling again. This time with my destination in mind.
My eyes were glued to this man. I wasn’t even sure if he was the one. My body and mind were disconnected. It felt like an invisible pull, making me reach for him.
As I grew closer, my breathing became harder.
I felt…nervous.
My crawling halted when I was only two feet away from him. So very close. One more step and I could touch him.
But I couldn’t move.
This man…he was big. I could see his muscle definition through his clothes. With his long legs, I guessed he was over six feet tall. The couch he sat on looked dainty and small compared to him.
His suit stretched over his wide chest and I gulped. My eyes went to his fists that rested on his thighs. He clenched and then unclenched his fingers.
I looked up at his face again, his eyes still closed. A few strands of his dark hair fell on his forehead, like it was stubborn and didn’t want to stay in place. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. The dark stubble gave him the perfect rough look.
He looked far from a gentleman.
The air around him felt colder and more intense. Even with his eyes closed, his body laid back, he spoke dominance.
His authority was loud and clear.
My Master—Valentin—was nothing compared to this man.
My Master would force his dominance on me.
But this man…without a single word, he let the world know he was the King. The master. The judge, jury, and executioner. He held all the power, and everyone else danced to his tunes.
This man…was dangerous.
He was no Prince Charming.
He was the devil in disguise.
And I had already fallen in his trap.
Swallowing my fear, my panic, and disgust, I continued to crawl forward. The seconds ticked by as I reached his legs.
My body settled between his thighs, moving effortlessly and as elegantly as I was taught. My breathing was silent, my movement slow and featherlight.
I touched his thigh.
His hand snapped forward, his fingers wrapping around my smaller wrist. My breath stuttered to a stop. My heart hammered with no control. The first touch pushed me over the edge, and I was falling…falling in the deep, dark abyss.
His hold tightened, and I knew that with a single touch, he could easily break my wrist. But he didn’t.
I felt his eyes on me. My skin burned from his intense gaze, and I was so very tempted to look up…to stare into his eyes.
His thumb pressed against the inside of my wrist, and without realizing it, my head moved upward.
Our eyes met.
And the world stilled.
I was robbed of my words. I was robbed of my thoughts.
Everything and everyone froze…nothing mattered.
Only our eyes, gazing into each other. I could see my reflection in his pale grey eyes.
My naked body was visible through his eyes, and everything ended.
I saw my shame, his eyes a mirror to my soul.
I could see me…a dirty slave. Owned by another man.
With one look, just like seconds ago, everything froze…my world shifted and tilted. Reversing and finding its place again.
For a brief moment, I had forgotten who I was. But I saw myself through his eyes, and it was enough reminder.
This man wasn’t my Prince Charming.
And I wasn’t his sweet love.
He was a Master.
I was a slave.
And I had a job to do. A command to follow. A man to please.
Then I would return back to my place, next to my Master’s feet with my mouth full of this man’s cum.
I licked my lips. His eyes followed my movement, and I knew I had his full attention.
With ease and after countless times of doing this, I blinked up at him. My stomach rolled, yet I kept my focus on the task.
But being the Devil, he played with my mind again. He pulled me into his trap again.
Instead of just pushing my face against his crotch and forcing me to take his manhood like all the others, he leaned down.
His head was next to mine, his nose slightly touching my jaw. The softest touch, so sensual…so beautiful…so right.
His nose trailed down a small path, touching my jawline and my neck. I felt his breath against my skin, causing a slight shiver.
When he breathed me in, my eyes fluttered closed.
Why did I not feel repulsed by his touch? This man was affecting me…changing everything I had ever known.
My world and his were crashing together, the lines aligning and fitting together without our permission.
He dragged me closer. His thighs spread wider to accommodate me. My body pressed against his, and I melted in his embrace.
In this moment, nothing else mattered. Not the depravity of this action, nor the disgust I felt just seconds ago.
He shifted slightly, and our eyes met again. We stared silently at each other. His gaze held nothing…it was empty. A black void. Mine spoke everything loudly.
Could he see my truth? My reality?
Did he care?
Our gaze broke apart when he leaned down again. His lips touched my skin, placing kisses along the path of my neck to my ear. My body felt warm and flushed, a strange feeling building up in the pit of my stomach.
When was the last time someone touched me so gently? When was the last time a man kissed me so softly?
He nipped gently at my earlobe, and I almost gasped. His touch was so featherlight, making me want more.
He teased me, and I craved more.
“You look like an Angel…so fucking exotic,” he whispered roughly in my ear.
I shivered, a slight tremble that I knew he would notice immediately.
But there was no stopping it. His words changed everything. The same deep, rough voice as before. This man who was holding me…was the same who refused me.
You look like an Angel…so fucking exotic.
An Angel?
He thought of me as an Angel?
My cheeks heated, and my body tingled.
Nobody had ever called me an Angel before.
I was slave to everyone else.
But this stranger…this Devil called me Angel.
Instead of ripping my soul apart, he was giving me pieces of myself.
So I would return him the favour in the only way I knew how.
As soon as his fingers released me, I moved to his zipper. My eyes avoided his, not wanting to see my lost dignity in his.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
He knew the answer, yet he wanted me to speak. Something I was forbidden to do. I only replied to Master, and until he gave me permission to speak, I was not allowed to utter a single word.
My Master was strict with his own rules. Fear slithered down my spine, but yet again, I pushed it away.
I broke a second rule.
“Let me serve you, Master,” I whispered so softly, for his ears only.
The moment the words were out of my mouth, he started to unbuckle his belt. Instinctively, I licked my lips again.
My hands trembled on his thighs, feeling strangely nervous. He pushed his slacks down until his hard length was visible.
Oh. He was long, thick, and hard. The crown of his shaft was almost an angry purple, telling me he was ready for my mouth.
My eyes snapped to his. The corner of his lips turned upward in a small, knowing smirk. He waited.
He didn’t push. He didn’t demand.
Finally, my gaze moved down to his jutting manhood again. A very impressive size and length. There were already white droplets on the head.
I gulped and looked up at him. It seemed I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. The pull he had on me was different, a little unsettling. But through the nervousness, I liked it. With our gaze on each other, I bent down and licked the length.
He hissed and swore loud. I watched his reaction, mesmerized by the sight of unadulterated lust on his beautiful face as I took him in my mouth.
My lips wrapped around his length, sucking him deep. My tongue traced his pulsing veins, and his hips bucked upward, pushing himself deeper in my throat.
I didn’t fight against the invasion. For the first time, I welcomed it. I took him in my mouth to give him the pleasure I wanted.
His fingers wrapped tightly around my hair, his knuckles digging painfully in my scalp as he pushed me harder and deeper down his cock. He gripped my hair tight, taking absolute control.
I relaxed against his hold, surrendering to him. He fucked my mouth, taking what he wanted.
He growled low in his chest, and my nails dug into his thighs.
It was dirty. Deep. Rough. Fast.
But he made something that I hated with a passion so sensual. I pulsed between my legs and pressed my thighs together.
Something was happening to me. He thrust in and out of my mouth, forcing me to take all of him. One last thrust, he held my head down on his cock.
I had no warning as he filled my mouth.
“Swallow it all,” he ordered, his voice husky with his desire.
Without a second thought, I did. Without thinking of the consequences, I swallowed every single drop, pleasing him with every lick and swallow.
My throat worked against the effort, some cum dripping down my chin. His eyes traveled down my breasts, following the wet trail his fluid was leaving.
After giving him one last lick, he released my head and pulled away. I licked my lips, making sure I had gotten everything.
For some strange reason, I wanted to please this man.
His eyes were hooded with need as he dragged a finger up my breast and pushed his cum back into my mouth. My lips wrapped around his finger, sucking it clean.
Was he happy? I wondered if I pleased him.
My eyes fluttered closed when he dragged his wet fingers against my lips.
“Thank you, Master. I am honored to have served you.”
A soft whisper. Months and months of practice had drilled this in my head.
Always thank the Master for honoring us with their cum.
I hated him. I hated thanking them for making us dirty and ugly.
I was so lost in the moment…in him…that I forgot who and where I was.
A slave. I was a slave.
Don’t forget it. Never forget it. Don’t lose yourself.
I had to remind myself again. Over and over.
No matter how beautifully dark this man was, he was the Devil. No better than any other man in this room.
No better than Valentin Solonik.
I felt him touch my chin, tilting my head up. My eyes stayed closed, refusing to give him the small glimpse into my soul.
“Look at me.”
My eyes snapped open at his order.
I am a slave. He is a Master.
Don’t forget it. Never forget it. Don’t lose yourself.
If I did as I was told, my punishments would be less. If I pleased them, I would have a good night of sleep.
If they liked me, I would get to eat some bread and cheese.
If my screams of pain were their new favorite music, I would get water.
I am a slave. He is a Master.
He was not my Prince Charming.
Don’t forget it. Never forget it. Don’t lose yourself.
His grey eyes stared down at me, his head cocked to the side. His curiosity burned my skin.
His warmth was hurting me. I no longer wanted it.
“Why did your eyes suddenly turn empty, pretty Angel?”
His words caressed me…and then cut through my skin, forcing their way into my heart.
I was falling into his dark trap again.
My lips pressed together, refusing to answer. He raised an eyebrow, the tip of his finger gently tapping my chin.
“Are you refusing to answer me?”
I swallowed and wanted to close my eyes. But his intense gaze wouldn’t let me.
Shaking my head, I kept silent.
“Then answer me,” he demanded quietly.
Our faces were mere inches apart. He leaned forward, our breaths mixing together, our lips almost touching.
“Speak,” he said again.
I didn’t. What could I say?
Small moments of stubbornness, just like this one, have always gotten me into terrible punishments.
But they were all worth it.
I showed them, silently, that they would never control me fully. My mind was still mine. My heart and soul still belonged to me.
“I want to hear that beautiful voice again.”
My heart cracked. The play of his words was music to my ears.
Beautiful voice.
He thought I had a beautiful voice?
Did I have a beautiful voice?
My lips parted against my will. I wanted to hear my voice. I wanted to hear the beauty he was speaking of.
Master taught me that I was ugly. Everything about me was dirty.
But the Devil…was saying something different. So very different.
Confusion clouded my mind as I breathed, ready to speak. For him. Only for him.
But my words never made it past my lips.
“I see my slave has served you well.”
I closed my eyes at the sound of Master’s voice. He was back. And he just shattered the small world the devil and I had built together.
The man released his hold on my chin, and I immediately felt his loss. Inside my head, I curled into myself harder, hiding away.
My eyes snapped open when he touched me again. His gaze was still on mine as he caressed the top of my head. He combed his fingers through the length of my black hair.
My heart stuttered at the sweet touch. Too sweet for the devil.
His palm cradled the back of my head, and he pressed me down until my cheek was lying on top of his thigh.
My body was still between his legs, still cradled in the safety of his embrace. He stroked my cheek now, and my body relaxed. My eyes closed as I melted into his warmth.
I never wanted him to stop touching me.
The world…every single ugliness in it vanished into thin air.
I floated far, far away…in a magical land.
Where the devil was my Prince Charming.
Where we lived happily ever after.
But all of that came to screeching halt. Too quickly I was snatched away from my happily ever after and dragged back into the dark abyss.
A bottomless pit that I kept falling into…with no one cushioning my fall.
My ears registered his voice, his words…his demands.
“Go the bedroom. I want you on the bed, waiting for me.”