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Authors: Marissa Honeycutt

Distorted Hope (33 page)

BOOK: Distorted Hope
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The helicopter landed and a while later, Patrón returned to the house with three Arab men dressed in what I thought of as traditional Arab garb. I fiddled with the hem of my short dress as Patrón introduced them to Colin and Austin and then brought them over to us. As Patrón listed off our names, we curtsied in greeting.

The oldest man in the group said something in Arabic and Patrón responded in kind. I knew Patrón spoke Arabic, so this didn’t surprise me.

After he introduced us, Patrón sent us off to eat dinner so we could get ready for the performance. The girls talked about the guests during dinner. Quietly, of course, so as not to be overheard.

“The men who come and visit,” Amé began slowly. “They like to be in control. They like extremely submissive women and some will hurt you if don’t do as they ask.”

“What about these guys?”

“They don’t like women much. If they choose you, you’ll probably get hurt.”

“Patrón tells them to not hurt us,” Julia said. “But they don’t always listen.”

As I put on my costume, I prayed I wouldn’t get chosen. I liked being with Mark, and I didn’t want to get hurt.

The performance began with a group number. We all danced to an upbeat rhythmic song that got my heart pumping. Then smaller groups of girls danced—some to fast songs, others to slow songs. Only Madison and I had solos. They were both slow and sensuous.

My stomach churned as I heard the first few beats of my song. I took a deep breath and began dancing, slowly moving my hips and arms to the rhythm. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the music, only opening them when I sat in my final pose: on my knees with my back to the audience, one hand behind me, supporting my upper body as I leaned backward and reached toward one man in the audience. I was supposed to aim for one of the guests, but since I had my eyes closed, I didn’t know I was reaching for Patrón until I opened my eyes.

Our eyes met and locked for an eternal moment as my chest heaved, trying to catch my breath. My heart began to ache for him again and I closed my eyes and straightened. I stood and curtsied, then took my place at the edge of the stage to watch the other dances.

We had one last dance together and then the performance was over and my heart pounded as Patrón came to stand in front of us.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself, gentlemen,” he said with a calculated smile. “Feel free to choose your companion for the week. Of course, you may change them at any time.”

We stayed still as the men moved. Once the guests had chosen, the other guys could grab one of us or leave. I glanced at Mark and he winked at me before turning back to John, to whom he was talking.

The older man came to stand in front of me and I gave him a bright smile, hoping I looked like I wanted him, even though I was terrified of being chosen. He trailed his fingers across the tops of my breasts and I inhaled sharply.

He walked away and I was relieved later when the men had made their choices and I wasn’t one of them. Mark was walking toward me when Patrón stopped him by catching his arm. “You need to choose someone else tonight, Mark.”

“Why?”

“Because the other men want a chance with her but won’t step forward because they know you want her. Choose someone else. Quickly.”

Patrón walked away and Mark gave me an apologetic look before making his way over to Leandra. She looked surprised, but pleased, and gave him a lingering kiss.

I told myself it didn’t bother me, but it did. I liked Mark. I adamantly denied I loved him as more than a friend. I wouldn’t let myself fall in love again. It hurt too much.

Toby walked up to me with Ajani, a broad-chested man with dark skin and eyes, and a shaved head. He was a nice guy, if a little rough sometimes. I raised my brows, seeing their playfully wicked smiles. “Hi.”

Ajani walked behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing my neck. “Hey, sexy. How would you feel about playing with the two of us tonight?”

My eyes widened as I looked at Toby. “B-both of you?”

“You’ve never been shared before?” Toby asked with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. “C’mon. When would I have been shared?”

Ajani’s chest rumbled as he chuckled. “Well, then, tonight would be perfect. We loved your dancing and have all sorts of ideas of what to do with you.” He bit my neck and I let out a soft moan.

I glanced at Toby, certain the apprehension was showing on my face. He laughed and stepped forward. “Kyra, when have I ever disappointed you?”

My cheeks warmed. Never. Toby was very thorough when he played. Yes, he made me beg and sometimes even cry, but he always made sure it was worth it. Always.

What would the two of them do? I’d only been with Ajani a few times. He was harder on me than Toby, but never more than I could handle. And he had made it worth it, too.

“Do you know the amazing orgasm you can have with two men filling your delectable holes at once?” Ajani whispered in my ear and then nibbled on the sensitive lobe.

“Okay,” I whimpered, scared and aroused at the same time. Ajani was very ‘blessed’ in his nether-regions—as much as Patrón was. I’d heard women talk about how big black men were but had never experienced it until he took me up to his room.

Toby took my hand and led me out of the hall. I caught Patrón’s eye on the way out. His expression was inscrutable, but I felt his gaze on my back until I was outside.

I groaned as the morning light streamed into Ajani’s bedroom. My body hurt all over, but I really couldn’t complain. They had pushed my limits last night, especially when they’d worked both of their cocks inside me at the same time. I was thankful Ajani had taken my pussy. I was amazed they’d fit. Barely. But, oh my! Ajani had been right. What an orgasm! I wouldn’t hesitate to be with both of them again.

The three of us barely fit into Ajani’s bed and I was sandwiched tightly between the two of them. They apparently weren’t shy around each other, either. Not that they’d done anything to one another, but various parts of their bodies got close last night, and I can’t imagine their balls not touching when they fucked me.

“Sore, baby?” Ajani whispered, rubbing my hip.

“Mmm hmm,” I mumbled.

Ajani raised his head and rested it on his balled fist. He trailed his fingers over my breasts. “I think you might have some bruises for a few days. I’d apologize, but I think you enjoyed it as much as we did.”

I giggled. I had. I hadn’t known there was a level of consciousness beyond the pain when the pain started to feel good. I just floated on a cloud as they used a riding crop and flogger on me. I think I even came when they hit my clit. “I think I did.”

Ajani kissed me, his thick lips enveloping mine. I ran my hands over his broad shoulders. “We might turn you into a pain slut after all,” he murmured.

I pulled away, hurt. Although I guess I couldn’t really complain about the use of the word ‘slut’. I was a slave, after all.

“Sweetie, slut isn’t an insult in this situation,” Toby said in a sleepy voice behind me, kissing the back of my neck and sliding his hand around to cup my tender breast.

I looked at Ajani and he nodded. “It’s actually a compliment.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know whether or not to believe him, but he seemed sincere.

“Wouldn’t you love to take her to a club?” Ajani said with a gleam in his eyes.

Toby chuckled. “That would be awesome.”

“Club?” I asked, confused.

“There are places where you can go and hang with people of similar interests.” Toby said. “You can watch others play or play and let others watch you. They usually have more equipment to play on.”

I could feel him hardening against my hip and I pressed back against him. He groaned. “Be nice, or I’ll flip you over and fuck you so hard you’ll scream.”

“I do that anyway,” I said with a giggle.

The men both chuckled. “Naughty girl,” Ajani said, pulling me to lie on my stomach. “I think she needs a spanking first.”

When I was walking back to the women’s house later that morning, Patrón passed me in the entryway.

“Good morning, Patrón,” I said politely, keeping my eyes down.

He paused and I could feel him looking at me. “Good morning,” he said in a soft voice that pierced my heart. “Are you alright?”

Why is he asking me that?
I looked up at him, my heart moving into my throat as I met his gray eyes. “Yes, Patrón. I’m fine.”

He stepped toward me and started to reach out to me but lowered his hand before he could. “You have bruises.”

I looked down and saw the dark marks on my cleavage and arms. “I’m okay,” I said with a shrug. “Ajani and Toby like to play.”

“Did they hurt you?”

I was confused at his question and his concern. He surely knew what Toby and Ajani liked. “They…” It was such a relative question. “No more than I could take.” He was probably just making sure his guys were behaving themselves.

“Kyra,” Patrón began, stepping even closer. “They’re not supposed to play with girls who don’t like to play.”

I suddenly realized one of the reasons I liked to play was because it helped my heart not hurt so bad. The physical pain outweighed the emotional pain. At least for a little while. “I don’t mind. I like it.”

For a moment, I saw sadness in his eyes. He stepped closer until he was standing less than a foot from me. I could feel his body heat, and his spicy scent made my heart pound and ache at the same time. I wanted to run away.

Patrón raised his hand and ran the back of his knuckles down my cheek. Tears sprang to my eyes. He tipped my head backward so I could look up into his eyes. I saw my Nathan in his eyes and my lower lip trembled.

He cradled my cheek in his large, gentle hand. “Kyra,” he whispered. I closed my eyes as he began to lower his face to mine. I could feel his breath on my face when he stopped. “No,” he said in a strained voice.

Abruptly, his hand disappeared from my face and his body heat faded, leaving me cold. Opening my eyes, I saw his retreating figure in the courtyard. I stared at him as he strode away for a moment before sprinting back to my room in the women’s house. I fell onto my bed sobbing.

I didn’t get up until after dinner that evening, when we were required to go to the living room. After I cleaned myself up, I followed the girls to the main house, greeting Patrón politely as I passed by him. “Good evening, Patrón.”

“Kyra, you need to go back to your room,” he said in a soft but firm voice. “I don’t want you out until your bruises are gone.”

I looked up at him, confused and hurt.
Why did it matter if I had bruises?
I’d had them before and it hadn’t bothered him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Go.”

“Yes, Patrón,” I whispered, and fled back to the women’s house.

Pasha was in the living room watching TV. “Kyra,
mija
. What are you doing here?” She held her hand out and I went to sit by her on the couch.

“Patrón told me to stay here until my bruises were gone,” I said, trying not to cry.

Pasha put her arms around me and was quiet for a while. I thought she had forgotten about me. “Kyra, he was protecting you.”

“Protecting me? From what?”

“You have some very dark bruises. If the Arabs saw those, they would likely believe you liked things rough and use you tonight.”

BOOK: Distorted Hope
11.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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