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The exploitation and sexual slavery of young women.
A cry issued from between my parched lips as I realized I was nothing more than a pawn in a game of strategic chance. Moved around with a skillful yet cunning expertise, I was shuffled about the board by the stronger, more determined players.
Furious at the knowledge, I fought against my restraints.
The leather straps held my wrists pinned to the wooden cross as I tried to wiggle and move. My legs were strapped to either side of the beams, spreading me wide and leaving my body exposed. Naked, I had no means of shelter from the lecherous gazes of the two men who stood before me, twin grins appearing on their round, smug faces. Their yellow eyes resembled the terrifying and predatory stare of a Cobra before it struck as they both hissed from every impact their crude straps landed on my flesh.
They didn’t seem real.
But this was no fantasy.
Rex and Reed continued with their bizarre punishment as my screams ripped from my throat. The flogging was more brutal now that I was partially aware. The leather burned across every inch of my skin. The heat penetrating deep into the layers of muscle and bone beneath.
I wasn’t sure how long the beating lasted, or how many times I drifted in and out of consciousness. I only knew the moment when I was alone, and the twins no longer brought the lash down upon my thighs and chest.
They’d left me here, the vibrating sex toy they’d strapped onto me no longer gratifying. The device was still obeying the command of its master, torturing my clit at the slightest movement. If I shifted slightly to ease the biting pain on my wrists, it would hit my clit, sending jolts of electricity and unwarranted pleasure. I’d suffered the humiliation and throbbing need for release for hours.
I was tired. My body drained of any type of emotion. Tears blurred my vision, falling consistently as they dropped to my feet and I hung my head in submission.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This was a far cry from the Wonderland that was depicted when I first arrived. Drugged, innocent, and stupidly naive, I believed in the false images and sexual energy that vibrated the walls in a pulse and thrum of ecstasy. A place where inhibitions were left at the door and the freedom to explore personal satisfaction was given the highest priority.
It was true, to a degree.
Unless you were referring to the young women who filled this establishment and its debauchery.
There was only one woman who truly held power and freedom in Wonderland. They called her the Queen. And she was a bitter soul. I had only heard her name whispered quietly by the few who had the misfortune of crossing her path. She was feared by the masses yet adored for her beauty.
No one betrayed the Queen.
The silver furnace was only a few feet from where I was being held, and the paint shimmered as my eyes fluttered and closed briefly before opening again. A thick, white gas billowed from within and filtered into the air, reaching out with ghostlike fingers until it encompassed every single crevice it could seep into.
Suddenly, and without warning, the platinum facade of the marble palace began to crumble in an achingly slow motion. Revealing its true black veil, I was shocked. The putrid smell of gas and sweat lodged inside my brain. Even as the room changed again, I knew fantasy and reality were finally merging and I was no longer locked inside a box of half-truths and lies, imprisoned in a world of horror and make believe.
My rose-colored glasses had finally fallen off.
I was gradually being freed from their manipulation.
The sounds of footsteps echoed in the distance as the one I feared most of all approached. Lifting my head, I squinted through the smoky fog with bleary eyes. A shadow stood on the other end of the dimly lit corridor, watching as I was intentionally left uncovered so that my shame was evident for all to see. A warped reminder that I was exposed and vulnerable to anyone who approached. This was what they wanted, whathewanted.
The Master.
This was his goal - total and complete submission coated in eternal shame.
Even if I was broken beyond repair in the process.
“Who’s there?” I croaked as the figure paused and then advertently made its way down the long, darkened hall. I shook with fear, not knowing who or what to expect.
When my eyes adjusted, I realized this shadow was not the man I was expecting. No, he wasn’t the vile and evil Master who lurked in this dungeon of horrors, but someone entirely different. One who wasn’t a threat. At least, I didn’t believe so.
The stranger was suddenly standing a few feet away, soft shadows encompassing his features, but as he moved slowly forward, I could make out each one in the light. A strong jawline and full lips, the molten chocolate glaze of golden-brown eyes, and even the dark brow that framed his dark lashes were briefly visible. A few seconds later he was back in the shadows, his decision to turn off the lights confusing as he flipped the switch.
He slowly came to the cross, circling my body and the wooden contraption with the confidence of a man who knew his world and controlled it without question. Since he was keeping his face hidden, I had no idea of his intentions. As warm hands caressed my body, I let out a sharp breath. He knew just how to touch me, how to arouse my interest and desires. The stranger expertly moved his fingers with the art of a man practiced in seduction.
My breathing sped up, my loins shivering as I fought for control. I was too sensitive from the sexual need and denial that sealed me in the hazy fog of lust, and just as his fingertips grazed my lower abdomen and headed south, I cried out in shame as a violent orgasm tore through my pussy and my hips rocked, bucking against the restraints.
His voice was a deep rumble that soothed my wounded pride.
“What’s your name,leannán?”
