Forced Submission (23 page)

“Okay, okay,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “What
is it you want, M? If you want me to bag the idea of a sister slave, I get it.
It’ll just be me and you.” He tried to laugh. “I didn’t know you were so possessive.
You must really love me, huh?” She didn’t answer. He continued, trying to keep
the desperation out of his voice. Oh god, he would fucking kill her for this.
“You don’t even have to sleep in the cage anymore. How about that? I’ll hold
you in my arms all night. We’ll be lovers, just like you’ve always wanted.
Okay, M?” He took his hand away from his bloodied shoulder and held it out to
her, trying to smile his movie star smile, the one that always made women open
their legs for him.

M didn’t smile back.

She waved the gun toward his groin. “Take off your shorts.”

“What?” Ellis was confused. This wasn’t going right.

“You deaf? Take off your damn shorts. Now.”

Ellis saw her trigger finger tighten. What, she wanted to
worship his cock?
Now?
Did she really think he could get it up with a
gun in his face? The chick was fucking looney tunes. But she had a gun and,
apparently, wasn’t afraid to use it.

Ellis started to reach into his shorts pocket to remove his
phone, but M snapped, “Leave it where it is. Take off the shorts before I blow
your dick off.”

Ellis’ head was pounding. In his fury, he felt he could
break that gun in half, if he could just get hold of it. M was staring at him
with maniacal fixity. She was no longer trembling. There was no love in those
blue eyes of hers. There was death.

Using his good hand, Ellis dragged his shorts down his legs
and kicked them away. He would pretend to go along. He would bide his time, and
then make his move. She might have won this battle, but Ellis Langston Hughes
had never lost a war. He wasn’t about to start now.

~*~

 Mia sank into the desk chair. She felt as if she’d
just completed a triathlon. Her muscles were like rubber and her insides were
churning. She should be elated with her victory, but she was still too stunned
to feel any joy.

Ellis was safely locked inside the punishment cage in the
closet. Mia couldn’t get him in there fast enough. She’d been shaking with
terror as she forced him at gunpoint out of his bedroom and into hers. She
directed him into the closet, making him get on his hands and knees to crawl
into the cage. What a relief it had been to close the heavy padlock on the cage
door and get herself away from him.

Her terror hadn’t derived from fear, at least it was not
fear for her own life, not anymore. The fear had come with the stark
realization that she wanted to kill him. She’d nearly done it when he’d ignored
her warnings to keep back, turning the gun aside at the last second and only
allowing the bullet to graze his arm to show she meant business.

In fact she had ached to murder him then and there. Her
fingers had longed to squeeze the trigger of that gun and release a bullet from
the chamber, sending it directly into his heart. She could envision the moment
of impact, when the bullet ripped through his chest, exploding in a red and
white flower of blood and bone.

Mia blew out a breath and wiped her eyes. She opened the
laptop and tapped a key to wake it up. As she waited, she tightened the
drawstring of the cotton lounge pants she’d pulled from Ellis’ bureau, along
with a heavy cotton T-shirt. It felt good to be clothed, while the bastard lay
naked in his cage.

She glanced at the computer’s clock. It was a little after
midnight in New York, which she estimated put it sometime in the early afternoon
on the prince’s island. “Please let him have read the email,” she whispered.

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Dearest Mia,

 I will come by private jet immediately. I assume
from your ability to email that you are not physically restrained. Are you able
to call the police? You should get out at once. Email me with your new
location. I will arrange for a car. Assuming all goes as planned, please expect
my arrival in approximately 36 hours.

Kamau

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

I will be here waiting. I’m not going to leave. I managed
to get Ellis’ gun, and he is presently in the cage he used when I was being
punished. I don’t want police. I don’t want the humiliation and the exposure. I
just want to get away. And I want to stop him from ever doing this again. I
have a plan. I’ll share it when I see you. Thank you again, and again, and
again.

With love and gratitude,

Mia

Mia logged out and closed the browser. She opened Gmail
again, which defaulted to Ellis’ account, his log in information still filled
in. Though in her prior life Mia never would have dreamed of going into someone
else’s email, she now didn’t hesitate to hit the enter key.

There were dozens of emails, all of them from women with
names like
Pain Slut
and
Sex Kitten.
Obviously this wasn’t Ellis’
business or personal account, but, as his own user ID implied, it was where he
had been prowling for the next victim.

Mia eyed the emails until she found one from
Sub Girl.
She
opened the latest email, which was a gushing missive about how much Alicia
couldn’t wait to meet her Master in the flesh and begin their new life of bliss
together. There was no mention of any “sister slave” in the arrangement. No
doubt Ellis had
forgotten
to mention it.

Apparently Ellis had already booked a one-way first class
ticket for her from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. She was scheduled to arrive at
LaGuardia the following Sunday, blithely eager and ready to step into the snare
of a madman.

“No,” Mia said aloud. “You will
not
do this to
someone else, Ellis Fucking Hughes.” She put her fingers on the keyboard and
hit the compose button. “I know you’re going to be disappointed, SubGirl123456,
but you’ll thank me later, I promise.”

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Dear Alicia,

You can keep the plane ticket. Visit Manhattan.
Unfortunately, you won’t be coming to stay with me. Someone tipped off the
police, and they rudely searched my house, spending way too much time in the
basement, where they uncovered the mutilated corpses of a dozen stupid,
unsuspecting women I’ve met online and convinced to come to my home so I could
hold them prisoner and torture them to death. I was hoping you’d be lucky
thirteen. Maybe we can hook up when I get out of prison.

Mia hit send, hoping that email would shake the girl to her
senses. She played around on the laptop a while longer, finding what looked
like Ellis’ work email, but she couldn’t access that one. She did find a whole
cache of pornographic pictures and video files, which contained thousands of
images of women being brutally tortured, some of it sexual, most of it just
horrifying. She left the files open, pushed back from his desk and headed into
the kitchen.

She made a pot of coffee and toasted some bread. She sat at
the kitchen table and drank hot coffee sweetened with sugar and real cream, and
ate toast slathered with butter and apricot jam. Each bite tasted better than
the last. She hadn’t had to endure being shocked or whipped to earn her meal,
and she could eat to her heart’s content.

Leaving the dishes on the table, she poured herself another
cup of coffee and walked into the living room. As she stared around the
sumptuously furnished room, Mia wondered if Ellis had friends. There had been
untold hours during her captivity when he’d left her gagged and bound. Had he
entertained friends and associates during that time? Had they sat in these chairs
sipping expensive wine and talking about business and family, with no idea
about the torture chamber just up the stairs, or the naked, half-starved girl
locked in a cage, her mouth taped shut, her wrists cuffed behind her back?

She went upstairs into Ellis’ bedroom. Retrieving his
discarded shorts, she went through the pockets, pulling out Ellis’ cell phone,
along with his key ring and a small, thin remote control. She pushed the red
button and heard a faint snicking sound, like locks being turned. She pushed
the green button and the locks were released. So that was how he had done it.
She eyed the smart phone, again contemplating a 9-1-1 call and again deciding
against it. She slipped the items into one of the large pockets of her lounge
pants.

She wondered where her things were, and where her car was.
Ellis had probably gotten rid of all of it, but Mia found she didn’t really
care. She didn’t want any of it. She just wanted to get away, as far away as
possible, and a lovely, secluded island off the coast of Africa seemed like
just the place to go. All she needed was her passport and some money to buy the
things she would need once she got there.

She went to Ellis’ bureau. His wallet was sitting right
there, beside an expensive looking gold watch. She opened the wallet, feeling
not the slightest trace of guilt as she extracted a thick wad of cash. She was
shocked as she counted the money. There was twenty-two hundred dollars there.
She folded the bills in half and pocketed them. She opened a small black lacquer
jewelry box. Inside she found several thick gold coins on the bottom of the
box. She took these, along with two pairs of gold cufflinks, one set with what
looked like emeralds, the other with diamonds, and added them to the growing
collection in her pockets.

On the table in the sitting area she found a leather
portfolio. Inside she found both her and Ellis’ passports, along with the
receipts and papers from their chartered jet. She pocketed her passport and
carried the papers back downstairs. She placed them in the trash compactor and
turned it on.

Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out a bottle of
sparkling water and unscrewed the cap. She took a long, refreshing drink and
headed back upstairs, taking the bottle with her.

She went into her bedroom, pulling the gun from her pocket
as she headed toward the closet. Flicking on the light, she stared down at the
naked man huddled in the cage.

He squinted up at her. “M, let me out of here,” he said in a
hoarse voice.

“Don’t call me M, asshole. You may call me Ms. Roberts.” She
watched his gaze travel from her face to the gun in her hand.

“Ms. Roberts, then,” he said through gritted teeth. “I need
to piss. And my arm is killing me. I can’t believe you actually shot me, M—uh,
Ms. Roberts. I’ve lost a lot of blood. I might die in here. Do you really want
a death on your hands? You’re looking at life in prison.”

“The bullet barely broke the skin, you pathetic piece of
shit. For someone who’s so good at handing out pain, you’re pretty piss poor at
taking it. Not that I’m surprised. Bullies are always cowards at heart.”

Mia could barely believe the words that were coming out of
her mouth. Wow, it felt
amazing
to be talking like that! She had never
in her life, not once, not ever, said just exactly what she was thinking and
feeling. Even before Ellis had abducted, brainwashed and nearly destroyed her,
she’d always been shy about expressing herself, and deferential in the extreme.
No wonder he’d picked her out of all those other girls he claimed to have
interviewed. She’d been scared of her own shadow back then.

Not anymore.

She drank the last of the water and crouched beside the
cage, her gun aimed at Ellis’ handsome face. “You want to pee?” She shoved the
head of the bottle between the narrow bars of the cage. “Go ahead. Stick your
dick in that, if you want.”

Ellis gripped the bars of the cage, his face mottling with
rage. Suddenly frightened, Mia fell back on her ass. She scooted away and
pulled herself into a standing position. “Watch it, I might accidentally shoot
you in the face if you startle me like that again. I think you better
apologize.”

Ellis stared at her. She towered over the cage, aiming the
gun at the top of his head. The small click of the safety being released caught
Ellis’ attention. “I’m sorry, Ms. Roberts,” he managed. He looked up at her,
his beautiful brown eyes beseeching her. “Please. You have to let me out of
here. I don’t like being confined like this.”

“Gee, no kidding,” she snapped. “Imagine being whipped
within an inch of your life first, and then having someone piss into your
mouth. Then try spending the next twelve hours in this cage in the dark, with
your mouth covered in duct tape and your wrists cuffed behind your back.” She
let that sink in a moment as she glared at the son of a bitch. “If you’re very,
very good, I might let you out eventually. Meanwhile, it’s late and I’m tired.
I’m going to sleep in a nice, comfortable bed, with the gun right beside me. If
you know what’s good for you, you won’t make a goddamn sound.”

She backed out of the closet, her gun trained on him.
Flicking out the light, she shut the door. She went back into Ellis’ bedroom
and retrieved the nearly empty bottle of scotch and the glass he’d been using.
She poured a shot’s worth into the glass and drank it in one gulp, wincing with
pleasure as it burned down her throat and spread warmly through her chest.

She really was exhausted. She couldn’t stand the idea of
sleeping in the bedroom where Ellis was closeted, nor did she want to lie in
his bed. She made her way instead to the guest bedroom at the end of the hall.

As she passed the dungeon, the door slightly ajar, she
shuddered. Then she envisioned Ellis strapped to the cross, or better yet, bent
over, his head and wrists secured in the stocks, his legs spread wide, his bare
ass exposed and waiting.