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I hold Seven's gaze in mine while our captor prepares me. He takes his time as he recovers from his last release. Finally, he says, “Mount him like a bitch in heat and ride.”
I moan just at that order. I wish this man hadn't taken me captive and that I could give myself over completely to him. No matter how much I know that morality no longer matters for us, I can't change my emotional nature and make it okay to give this man my soul. And I know it's not safe.
So I shift this energy to Seven as I lower myself on top of him. A tiny cry leaves my throat as I let him fully inside. My greedy pussy grabs hold of him as though his cock is the last thing that will ever fill me. And then I begin to move.
It isn't long before our captor has removed the toy. Now it's his slickly lubed cock easing inside me with so much more gentleness than a man like him should be capable of or even care to offer. I'm filled with and overwhelmed by both men now. One darkness, the other light. Both of them go still, as I adjust.
I move first.
I ride Seven as our captor rides me. He strokes my breasts, pinching my nipple so hard I scream, but it isn't from the pain. It's from the pleasure that just intensified between my legs. I’m so wet I can hear myself as I move on Seven's cock. His intense hazel gaze is locked on mine.
Our captor doesn't even have to touch my clit. I've been trained so well to respond that all I need is something inside me now, and the way they both feel moving together is so intense that my orgasm catches me off guard. And now, for the first time, I come with Seven inside me. And I am loud. And I don't care. All I care about is that I'm in the midst of the most powerfully transcendent sexual release of my life.
The two of them come with their own more masculine, guttural sounds a moment later. And now... we are all in this together.
8
It feels like I've existed in this cell forever. I should have been counting the days more closely, but they all bleed together. And why does it matter how long this has gone on?
I wake to find Seven asleep on the floor. I shake him to try to wake him and realize it's not normal sleep. Did our captor slip in and dose him again? He never drugs me. He doesn't need to. I'm so small and weak, I can't put up a real struggle, but Seven is his match. He may even be a bit stronger than our captor, so more precautions must be taken.
Though our captor plays with us and watches us fuck each other, he still hasn't fully broken Seven. I know his eventual plan is for Seven to fully embrace this role as my master, so that our captor can let him off the leash. He's tempted him. He's promised him he doesn't have to stay in the cell. There are much nicer rooms upstairs. They can be on the same side. I can be their captive together. But Seven refuses to take any of the bait on offer.
Our captor will never be able to trust Seven unchained. He's not a dog that can be trained. I somehow have grown to think of him as my protector, even though he can't truly protect me from anything. Not like this. The door opens, and I scoot back to the far corner of the cell. As much as he has taken me and shaped me to his will, as much as my body wants him, there’s the lingering uncertainty, the fear that the mask of calm will drop and this will all end.
He chains Seven up, then smacks him a few times in the face.
“Wake up!”
Seven slowly comes to. His eyes immediately find mine as if reassuring himself I'm still here and okay. It does something to me when he looks at me like this.
“Good. I need you both awake for this announcement,” our captor says.
I want to join Seven. I want to be wrapped in his arms right now, but our captor is standing beside him, and I don't dare make that trip across the cell because something has changed, and I'm terrified that I think I know what it is.
I've craved both of these men, but it only feels right or sane with Seven, so I pour all my emotional energy into him and try to forget the excitement I feel when the other man touches me. Obviously, it's Stockholm Syndrome, but even so, it’s convincingly real. It's reminds me of a lucid dream I once had where I spent several minutes just touching this textured wallpaper, knowing I was dreaming but unable to comprehend how real it all felt. As I'd stroked the velvety smooth wall, I kept thinking to myself how can this not be real?
This dream is even more real.
“I've grown tired of this game,” our captor says.
The tears come immediately. It's like I've locked them away and saved them just for this moment. He's going to kill us. I knew this day was coming, but I'd hoped it would be farther in the future. I crawl over to him, forgetting my former resistance. “Please, Master... don't...” But I can't bring myself to say the words. If he's grown tired of this game, there’s nothing I can do to change his mind. I've always known I existed at his pleasure, on his terms.
I flinch when he strokes my hair. He sighs. “I'm going to let you go,” he says finally.
“W-what?” I can't have heard him right. He can't just let us go. How would that even work? Isn't he afraid we'll report him? Before I can work through all the ramifications and how he could possibly let us go without endangering himself, the reality that I've spent weeks ignoring because it no longer mattered, slaps me in the face.
I still have no job, no money, no apartment. Probably not even clothes. I'm sure Carolyn must have tossed my things when I didn't come back for them. I will starve to death out there. I'm pretty sure I can't get Andrew to take me back, not after he thinks I stood him up that night and just never spoke to him again.
He probably thinks I was fucking around with him somehow. And after what has happened here in this cell, I don't think I could ever...
“Master, please... I'll starve. I have nothing, I can't...” I can't believe I'm saying this. But this is truly the situation I'm in, where being this man's captive is a better fate than being set free because of my financial situation. In the back of my mind these weeks, I've feared he would eventually kill me, but it never ever occurred to me that I should worry about going back to the problems I was in before captivity.
He's still stroking my hair, his fingertips moving down to rub the back of my neck. I'm ashamed of how much I love it when he does this. It still feels so wrong to love anything that comes from his hand, especially since I have guilt-free pleasure with Seven. Both men are equally beautiful, but one is a monster, and I can't let myself feel anything for him, so I push these things down as much as I can.
“Don't worry, Kate, I won't let you starve. I'm prepared to offer you two million dollars.”
My breath stops for a second, and maybe my heart as well. I can't have heard him right. Is he paying me for my silence? Or is this just another sick game? What's the catch?
