Puppet On A String (9 page)

      
At first, she thought she might be staring into a painting, or had walked onto a movie set, or flipped back to a past she was far too young to have lived. The scene felt too contrived to be real. But then there was Jessup in an easy chair by one of the glowing lamps, smoking a cigar and chewing on the end.

      
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked suspiciously, almost an accusation. She felt curiously annoyed, though she couldn’t understand why.

      
“Is that any way to greet me? Here I thought you might enjoy a little civility. I give you a shower, clothes. I thought a drink, a cigarette, maybe a decent meal and a place to sit would please you.”

      
The food on the coffee table was real, so was the smell of liquor. Both were very welcome. But what she said in response to these alluring stimulations was, “I don’t smoke.” Her voice was terse and meant to hurt.

      
Jessup shrugged. “No matter to me, sit down, Shelby Ryan.”

      
She tried sitting in the chair farthest from Jessup but he objected and motioned her to the couch next to him.

      
“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “Not now, anyway.”

      
He poured her a beer. Suspicion made her reluctant to take the glass and reluctant to drink. But the liquid went down fast as soon as she tasted that first sip; it tasted like freedom on her parched tongue.

      
“Eat what you want. This is here for you.”

      
She stared at the plate filled with olives and cheese and slabs of beef and succulent grapes. There were even chocolates on the side. The smells were rich and fragrant, rushing into her nostrils. But too much all at once and her senses were quickly overloaded.

      
She wanted it all and her famished belly was growling like a hungry bear.

      
Though she was ravenous for the beer and she’d made that clear, she was more careful eating the food. An olive at first, then a slice of smoked
Gouda
, then a small cluster of plump red grapes. Her stomach craved more, but she managed to keep her distance from the food, wary of what it might contain. More drugs, no doubt, and she didn’t want to be drugged.

      
Her mind shuffled through a dozen questions that naturally popped up in her brain…most of them centered on ‘why?’
Why this? Why now? What are you going to want next?

      
Maybe the food was drugged, or maybe it was just its natural essence that turned her ravenous hunger into ravenous desire. But the throbbing for cock was nearly as painful as her hunger; and suddenly the fear of losing a precious moment of physical intimacy made her more careful of how she spoke to her host. She could not afford to offend the man who’d given her beer and food, a clean dress and a clean body. A man who routinely promised her body the sexual release it craved was not one to piss off if the alternative awaiting her was a cold damp cell.

      
While
Shelby
ate, Jessup viewed her with the same cruel stare as when he tortured her. But this time was different. This time he wouldn’t dare demand she suffer another session of pain. Or was he just playing her for a fool?

      
When it appeared that she was finished eating, he spoke again. “Come sit on my lap.”

      
Her eyes got big with question marks, but her body was unable to budge from the sofa and he spoke again, “Come here, I’m not going to hurt you.”

      
Would it have mattered if that was his plan? Would it have made any difference as to whether she obeyed or disobeyed? He held her life in his hands. She was his to control, what good would hesitating do her?

      
While moving from the sofa to Jessup’s lap, she found the tall heels awkward, almost tripping her up again. She was unused to them; and frankly unused to walking after so many hours on her knees.

      
What Jessup wanted was for her to straddle his legs, and for her open pussy to rest against the fabric stretching across his crotch. The scene was wildly erotic with the callous Jessup crushing his palms into her breasts, taking her mouth with his, inserting his tongue like a lover and kissing her hard until her face hurt and her pussy was throbbing for more than just the feel of cock through a layer of heavy fabric. She felt the hard erection beat against her wet snatch. And soon she felt herself reaching out to have him with the same vigorous zeal he used to win her cooperation.

      
He’d hurt her so many times, been the author of her worst nightmares, and still she could lust for him. This only proved the nature of depravity as a place where there are no rules, no values, no right behavior or wrong act. In that delicious place another plane of reality exists and sound judgment is suspended in favor unbridled pleasure. God is a hard cock, a wet pussy and the time to explode the one inside the other. Nothing else in the world has any meaning until that very basic need is satisfied.

      
But who would have guessed that a cruel brute like Col. Jessup would be such an accomplished tease? His hand gently pushed the hair from her face, then his thumb slowly grazed her lips with tender affection. A moment later, he brought his mouth to hers for the second kiss.

      
She didn’t worry anymore about understanding why. She didn’t worry about being hurt again. When he told her to back off so he could strip away his pants, he was actually a little awkward, like a naïve schoolboy doing the dirty deed for the first time. Once he was back in the chair, she beheld his stiff erection and a glimmer of heat emanated from her smoldering eyes.

      
“Come here, slut,” he said, a gentle snicker across his face.

      
She straddled his lap again. This time, his thick pulsating organ sank inside her love hole, and dove deep to the darkest reaches of her sexual body. She fell into his chest wiggling her crotch against him and closing her eyes to savor the sensation.

      
“Ooooooooo, yess!” she hissed, drawn away by the powerful force. Her lips went to his ears where she blew hot breath along the skin. She felt his teeth sinking into the side of her neck. “What? You just turned into a vampire?” she giggled because the biting tickled.

      
“That’s right, I’m a vampire here to drain your blood,” he laughed darkly.

      
After that, she fucked him. Bouncing on his lap, her first orgasm rifled off within minutes of her being impaled. Jessup took much longer to come, building up steam while his raunchy date worked herself to at least three orgasms before he ejaculated into her steamy hole. After the first wounding copulation, she wanted him even more; she wanted him hard again and for the fuck to keep on forever. If she kept him happy, he wouldn’t hurt her, she surmised – although she couldn’t count on anything with this man.

      
When he pushed her off, she fell to the floor.
Ah, yes, it’s back to the floor again,
she thought as she hit the hard concrete on the edge of her hip. The carpet did little to cushion the blow.

      
While waiting for her next order, he lit his cigar again – such a sensuous cliché. She almost asked for a cigarette, but then she remembered that she didn’t smoke.

      
“You know, you don’t have to sit there, slut,” he finally said. He looked sated and softer than she’d ever seen him. “I imagine the couch is much more comfortable than the floor, but then I really wouldn’t know.”

      
Shelby
didn’t wait for a second invitation. She scrambled to the couch and waited there for him to speak again. While he collected his thoughts, he sipped his drink and lit the cigar again.

      
Finally, after several long soothing drags on his smoke, he said, “You know, the way I see it, you’re not going to tell anyone a damn thing about that silly disk.”

      
She gazed at him shocked. “You mean you believe me?”

      
He shrugged. “I probably do, though it’s really not my place to make decisions like that. I just do what I’m ordered to do. I’ve told you that before.” He smiled scornfully as he often did, not with his full mouth, but with one corner lifting up just enough to suggest that he was mildly amused. “But you know what else I believe?” he puffed away on his cigar like he was proud of the cloud of smoke that blanketed the room. “I believe that you are a bonafide masochist. A well-trained one at that. And that, Ms. Shelby Ryan, makes you quite a commodity on the slave market. I suppose by now you’ve figured out that you won’t be released from the hell hole of captivity regardless of what you do or say. But where you go next, that is where I have some influence. The way you take pain, well, you’ll be useful to my personal cause. There’s a big black market where women are bought and sold and sold again. Yes, you will make a useful addition to my bottom line.”

      
Of course, she could have guessed the possibilities for her future, but she’d been too afraid to speculate. “Useful?” Her voice was weak and tired, and the way she bit her lip made her look like a naïve teenager.

      
“Why not? A cunt like yours shouldn’t go to waste. There are men who will pay bundles to have a pretty American like you ready for cock with a horny snatch. It’s even better if they have an inclination for pain.” He smiled, a very happy man. “Men are such sadists at heart; I guess you’ve seen that here. Although some men get off on delivering pain to women who can’t stand it, I find it more interesting to take on women like you who’ve learned to derive pleasure in the roughest of circumstances. Whoever trained you did a first rate job.”

      
“And what? That’s supposed to make me what…?”

      
“You don’t have to feel a thing. What all this means is that tonight is your swan song in my detention center, honey. That’s why the big send off with all the amenities. I wasn’t going to let prime meat like you go without a little fucking from the man in charge. I mean everyone else around here has had the pleasure of fucking you at will. I was beginning to think your cunt would fall off.” He stared her down, just like he had so many times. “Don’t look so scared. I promise you, where you’re going, you’ll be treated far better than I’ve treated you here. It will be a lot more comfortable. The brothel actually has some nice soft beds. I’ve been there enough times, I should know.” He laughed, expelling more smoke.

      
“You’ve sold me to a brothel?” Neither despair nor surprise accompanied that question. She just wanted to know the truth.

      
“No, that’s not quite it. I’m taking you to a brothel to be sold. Where you go from there, well, that’s out of my hands. I’m just around to collect the cash.”

      
The hazy grey of his cigar smoke turned back the sensuous yellow glow, making the room feel more like the pit of hell than the sensuous love nest it had been minutes before.

      
When Jessup was ready for sex again, he laid his captive out on the couch, and after hovering above her just staring into her watery eyes for far longer than was comfortable, he began to slowly move in and out of her pussy. The way he stared her down, she thought she would break into a million pieces. In time, he picked up speed, working himself to a steady rhythm, thought it took a long time for him to come. Despite the way things normally worked in his world of quick and dirty sex, Jessup liked the long slow fuck.

      
Shelby
could sense when his orgasm was just a breath away. At that moment, she instinctively bore down with her inner muscles. Seeing the grimace on his face was satisfaction of its own. She could have timed her body to get off in the same instant his climax hit, but just before that last finishing thrust, he suddenly decided that the tighter hole would serve him better. He pulled out, jerked her over, and brought her ass up high to meet his glistening erection. After giving her tight anus a little prodding, he reached down and gathered a little pussy juice to lubricate the path. Satisfied that she was ready, he sank his organ into her ass in one brutal thrust.

      
A moment of panic was followed by a moment of delirious bliss for both. In another place, another time, as the old cliché goes…but then, for anything good to have ever come of these two, they would have needed to be in far different circumstances than a prison in
Eastern Europe
. By the time they met, Jessup was hardwired for sadism, and
Shelby
was just a pawn in his game. Changing the circumstances wouldn’t have been easy, and, in the end, probably not worth the trouble.

      
Jessup had her sleeping in a real bed that night, though he was nowhere around. Whatever late night cocktail he gave her must have had a pungent drug because she didn’t awaken until dawn – yes, dawn, the first she’d seen of the sky at morning in over two weeks. It was only a glimpse, but it was a precious one: blue sky, the promise of sunshine and in one corner of the high window, the green leaves of a tree floating on the breeze. Such a small image, that piece of a delicate morning. But it was enough to send her bleary mind back in time again…

The men seemed to pour into the office; their faces serious and determined. They talked in grave speeches about subjects
Shelby
wasn’t entirely clear about. She didn’t have to understand since her job was to serve drinks from the bar inside Mr. Darcy’s office.

      
When the meeting was to begin, her owner ordered her inside the private space, leaving the secret door wide open. The day before, unbeknownst to her, a fuck rack had appeared in the private refuge, looking like a great wooden behemoth next to the elegant furnishings of the apartment.