The sound of my heart pounding in my ears, my breathing became labored. Anxiety swirled through my body to settle in my stomach, making me feel nauseous. I thought to myself: Should I resist him? Should I risk angering him? My instincts don't tell me to run or hide, they say stay still. They say… obey? Please stop. He let go of my hand, quelling all the panic; Not knowing what to do with my hands, I wrapped my arms around myself. It felt like he was piercing me with his eyes. The ferocity in that gaze was almost filthy. What is he doing in my mind? Something very strange was going on inside of me, a very basic and very simple perception, like man and woman, female and male, hard and soft, game and prey. Yes, I was terrified. But at the same time there was an undercurrent of something quite familiar. Lust? Maybe. My eyes drifted away from his face. I had fantasized about this man, dreamed of being touched by him. I used to long for his eyes on my naked body. Picture his soft lips on
He pulled me off the floor with his wrists, and, in one swift motion, hung my wrists on a bedpost until I was precariously standing on my toes. Hanging huge exposed there; My whole body is tensed to a close - everything is exposed, my breathing becomes rapid. He roughly grabbed my face, “Do you know what your problem is, pet? She still hadn't learned to choose wisely. Dinner would have been different, but you chose this.” I have prepared a sly reply on the tip of my tongue. The words would make him as angry as I terrified, but then he kissed me. The kiss was intense, possessive, with the intention of smothering the criticism in its infancy. There's no glancing tongue here; he was too smart to do that, but just pressed his full lips against mine. It ended before I had a chance to react. He walked over to the cart where the food had been left and rummaged through a black bag. My eyes widened. Where the hell is that thing? There is nothing in the world as ominous as a black bag, a blac
Eric closed the door to the girl's room and locked it, then put the key in his pocket. He rested his forehead on the closed door. The image of her body reappeared, lying face down on the mattress, the criss-crossed whips on her back stretching from shoulder to ankle. He wanted to run the tip of his tongue over every red mark, leaving no part of her untouched. Through the door, he could hear her muffled cries, and a strange shiver ran through him. Tension welled up inside Eric, showing itself through Eric's body, causing his muscles to tighten. He stopped stretching and then clenched his hand, knuckles creaking then letting go. Loosening his body even more, he forced himself to relax. It's three o'clock in the morning. He was drugged, sweaty, and in need of something, anything—a woman, perhaps. He looked away, the soft colors of the lights were not very bright but still bright enough. He likes this house. With each passing week inside it, he liked it more and more. From what is known
He turned around, leaning against the counter, the edge pressing against his spine. One hand gripped the edge of the counter, the other a bottle of beer that was rapidly cooling down as streaks of water ran down his arm. He drank heavily. There's a lot to put on the girl's shoulders, and then there's him. Aside from his personal enmity, he couldn't let Raymond down. Vladek Rostrovich must die. In this respect, Raymond and he never disagreed. When it comes to taking each step, it's completely different. He took a full gulp, churning the liquid in his mouth before swallowing and feeling it fill him. Ruining the lives of others is what he is very good at, of course, this task is no different. Or is it? He emptied the beer bottle, enjoying a little but still wanting more. He turned to rinse his mouth, watching the water rush out. The girl was really terrified of him, that he was sure of. Have to use that to your advantage. Under his tutelage, she would become whatever it took to survive
Vladek was not always rich and powerful. Once upon a time, that infamous Russian was just a mercenary and an illegal merchant willing to sell what he sold - drugs, guns, people, it didn't matter. He traveled all over Russia, India, Poland, Ukraine, Turkey, Africa, Mongolia, Afghanistan and on one fateful day, Pakistan. Doretti Raymond was then a young man, a captain in the Pakistani Army under the command of a passionate General. The American-initiated war against Saddam Hussein as Desert Storm was going well, and Raymond was called in to support the coalition on the ground. Raymond, who recently lost his father, wanted to stay close to his family until arrangements were made for his mother and sister, but could not. The General is hungry for rank and nothing can help level up faster than a fight. Raymond's absence was inevitable, and eventually led to tragedy, in the two years he was away from home, Vladek kept an eye on Raymond's sister, A'noud. When Raymond returned with the good
Eric tossed the towel aside, strode from the other end of the bedroom, across the bed to the large window. Pulling up the curtain, he looked outside. The stars, a dark horizon; the black curtain of the night and the moon refuses to appear. That journey has not been easy. It's easier to kill the guilty than to trade innocent women. It is a lesson in ruthlessness and concentration, and about choosing a path that promises to purify the soul. Despite all of that, Eric pushed forward. At first, he trained them with the help of Raymond, then he did it alone. And with every slave Eric brought to the auction, he gained more recognition from the filthy world of the sex trade. For every rich, well-to-do, crooked merchant or boasting about Eric's expertise, he gained an extra foothold in the underworld of rulers. With each success he achieved, he dug deeper into the darkness and came closer, hopefully, to the chance to find Vladek. But years have passed, and Vladek is still out of sight. Mean
It's raining outside. I can hear. Taking a deep breath, I slowly opened my eyes, forgetting for a second where I was, but then sadness came. I really don't know what day it is. He always kept me in the dark, always, only the night light illuminated me in the room. I don't know why he did things this way. If it was to distract me, then he succeeded. I never realized how an inability to hold time could be so devastating to one's ability to hold on to reality. It is easy to get lost in the endless darkness and in the fleeting hours. I think a lot about my family, about my mother and what she may or may not be going through. Maybe she'll regret all the time she never said she loved me. Maybe she'll regret never giving me the hugs I so desperately crave. Now it's too late. I wondered if they were thinking where I was, or if the police had told my mother that hope of finding me was lost. I count the days that pass by counting the number of meals. By this time I had eaten six breakfasts. I
The room door opened. The 'owner' came in with breakfast. I move to the bathroom doorframe, staring as he closes the door with my foot. I swear this man never sleeps. I'm not sure what time it is, but whatever the reason, it gives the impression that it's too early to shower and change clothes. He always dressed as if he was going to a party or a night out, never wearing casual or comfortable clothes. Except for the day we met, of course. I jumped when he spoke. "Why are you covering yourself?" I immediately looked down at the ground but didn't lift my hands off my chest. “I am naked, Master,” I replied, my voice trembling. He put the tray on the bed. “You used to be naked in front of me. Why are you so shy all of a sudden? Release your hand and come over here.” I drop my hands, knitting them together in front of me as I walk towards him. Eric sighs as I approach, then he pushes my hand away from the tight spot. “Don't cover yourself in front of me. It's ridiculous." I bit my lip.