Prince of Darkness vs Prom Queen

Victor had picked up a couple of pieces of folded paper. After reading through them, he handed them to Donovan. It was a neatly typed list of questions, the kind of questions one would ask if one were conducting an interview, the kind of questions one would ask if one were interviewing Donovan Corbett.

Donovan was used to people trying to ask him salacious questions about his life and lifestyle, but he never answered those questions and refused every request for an interview. There were plenty of people in the world involved in the BDSM lifestyle and many liked talking about it. Donovan wasn't one of those people. Why did Laci Grace come to his home with a list of questions? Was she planning to ask these questions during her training sessions? Was her presence some kind of scam? Donovan had never attempted to conceal his activities, so she couldn't possibly be writing some type of exposé about him, furthermore, the questions didn't support that presumption. He actually wouldn't have minded answering these questions. There was nothing salacious about them. They were thoughtful, probing, and courteous. While it was apparent that Laci didn't completely understand or approve of his lifestyle, her questions showed she was more than respectful of him, his choice, and anyone else who chose it.

Victor was right. Something about the Prom Queen didn't make sense. Absentmindedly Donovan picked up what appeared to be a tube of pink lip gloss. He glanced at the name on the end. 'Popsicle Princess'. Of course it was. Of course Laci Grace used pink lip gloss with the name 'Popsicle Princess'.

Not long after, Donovan was standing outside the cell, listening to Laci's quietly, shuddering sobs. He had never been moved by anyone's tears, but for reasons he couldn't explain, he wanted to gather her into his arms, carry her to his bed, spend the night holding her and comforting her. Not a good plan. For one thing, he still didn't know the true nature of her relationship with Frank Harding. For another, he was almost certain the Prom Queen would try to strangle him with his own bed sheets.

The door to Frank Harding's office was open, and Donovan arrogantly strode in, unannounced. The look Frank gave him made it obvious, Donovan was the last person he wanted to see. Donovan Corbett's presence in his office was crossing the line that kept private and public lives separate.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "I would've thought you had enough to keep you busy? How's the new project going? She giving you trouble?"

Donovan wasn't about to let this vile son of a bitch know what he suspected. He was careful not to refer to her by name. "She's a handful, but you said she would be. She's the first one I've ever had to throw into the ice chest three times." He could see Frank was enjoying the thought of what was happening to Laci. "Look, Frank, let's not waste time. You want her trained and I want to be paid. Cut to the bottom line. She's not a willing participant in this endeavor, is she?"

Donovan knew enough about human behavior to know Frank was weighing his options, deciding if he should lie and how much truth to tell. Finally the bastard decided to laugh it off. "Okay, Corbett, you got me. No, she isn't. She was stupid enough to think she was coming to your place for an interview. I tried to work it myself, let the bitch know I was interested, but she walks around here thinking she's better than everyone, wouldn't lower herself to my level, so I figured you could do it. If anyone can break her, it's you, and when she's been broken, whipped and beaten into submission, I'll take over and you can damn well be sure, I'll pick up right where you left off. She's a fucking cunt, but she'll learn."

Frank Harding misread the look of pleasure on Donovan's face. He was certain Donovan Corbett was thinking about every bit of torture he was going to heap on Laci. In reality, the smile on Donovan's face was coming from his thoughts about what he'd like to do to Frank Harding.

"You're right, Frank. She'll learn. I gave her the option of doing things the hard way or the easy way. So far it's been hard, but now that I know the truth............well..........let's just say this new one hasn't yet learned the meaning of the word hard, but finding out the truth makes my job easier. Too bad I can't say the same for what she's going to be experiencing for the next few weeks."

It was exactly what Donovan and Victor suspected. There was no helpless victim act. Laci was a victim of Frank Harding's perverted 'wicked' habits, but the degenerate was too cowardly and cautious to torture her himself, too cowardly and cautious to take any chance of people finding out what he was really like behind the closed doors of his house of horrors. Once she had been tamed, he would take control and do whatever he wanted to her, and his 'wickedly' filthy hands would remain 'wickedly' clean.

"I'll let you get back to work," Donovan was already heading out the door, "while I get back to my own activities, and next time...be up front with me. It makes my job easier and gets you more for your money." He could almost see the slime doing calculations in his head. "Hey, Frank, I keep meaning to ask. You know how rumors are.....is it true you tie women to an actual bed of nails?"

For a brief instant, Frank seemed surprised by the question, but he shrugged, "Rumors always get twisted. It's actually a chair of nails. When someone needs to learn a lesson, a time-out works wonders, especially when their ass has been whipped raw, and there are some extra weights hanging from their tits. You'd be surprised at how quickly one remembers the meaning of obedience."

"Good point, Frank. A time out, huh? I like it. I'll have to remember that." Donovan was pleased he was able to smirk knowingly and actually chuckle at Frank Harding's words, when in his mind, all he was able to see was Laci tied to a chair of nails. He really wanted to see Frank Harding tied to his own chair of nails. The monster was far more twisted than any rumor.

Victor was waiting when Donovan walked through his front door. "We were right," Donovan said. "The fucking bastard lied to me and tricked her. She had no idea what she was getting into. Something about the Prom Queen turned him on, but she turned him down. This is his revenge. I have to talk to her."

Donovan started heading towards the training facility and the cell where Laci was being held. Victor stopped him. "She's not there. She's in one of the guest rooms."

"What the hell is she doing in a guest room?"

Victor shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "She's not well, Donovan. She must have been in and out of the ice chest too many times. That combined with stress, anxiety, fear, and the energy she expended trying to kill you, must have been too much. She's sick. She has chills, she's feverish, she's almost incoherent. She's also very dehydrated, but she fights every time I try to get her to drink anything. She's afraid of being drugged again."

There was no mistaking his anger as Donovan strode toward the guest room. He stopped in the doorway, gazing at Laci. He couldn't stay angry. It looked as if Victor had put one of his own t-shirts on her. She did look feverish, and she was whimpering slightly, restlessly lying in an uncomfortable position half on her side, probably to help the pain she was feeling from the paddling she had received.

She looked like a very vulnerable child, and for some reason he didn't want to understand, the Prince of Darkness suddenly felt very protective of the Prom Queen.

"You like her, don't you?" he was almost accusing Victor.

"You're one to talk. I saw what happened last night when she was trying to beat the crap out of you. If she realized you had a boner, she would have kicked you so hard, your balls would have been stuck in your throat for a week."

"She's a beautiful, young woman. Last night she was a beautiful, young, naked woman, and I simply admired her stamina." Victor just looked at him. "The point is what are we going to do about her?"

"How did she become our responsibility? Give her a couple of hours to start feeling better, then send her back to the prom. Buy her a corsage if it makes you feel better."

Donovan motioned Victor out of the room. "Victor, I've been doing this a long time and I'm not sure how many people I've trained, but as far as I know, they've all been willing participants. They had their reasons why they were willing, and I never questioned any of them about those reasons. They were nothing more than business transactions."

"Are you saying the Prom Queen isn't a business transaction?"

"She wasn't a willing participant. We held her against her will. We assaulted her."

"You assaulted her."

Donovan glared at him. "You drugged her. The point is, she doesn't even know Harding got her into this situation. As far as she knows, he sent her on an interview. To her, we're the bad guys. So, what do we do? Drop her at her apartment and wish her all the best? She could call the authorities. She could tell Harding what we did to her. The immoral bastard may even offer to 'protect' her. What if she figures out what he did? He'd never let information like that get out. Her life would be over. She'd end up like that one in the ditch. Are you willing to live with that?"

"Okay, Donovan. What do we do with her?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"You better figure it out. It's almost time for the last dance."

"Victor, stop with the fucking prom jokes. Go look after your patient. Let me think."

Donovan spent the next hour pacing. Considering how she reacted last night, he wasn't sure he could get her to listen to reason. Even if she understood they had both been duped by Frank Harding, what was she going to do? She couldn't just show up at her job. He didn't want to think about what could happen if Harding got his filthy, perverted hands on her. Even if Donovan helped her find another job, in another state, he couldn't be sure she'd be safe from Harding. She needed protection.

He looked up to see Victor standing in the doorway. "I need to talk to her," Donovan said.

"I'm not sure that's going to be possible. She seems to be getting worse."

"You're going to have to take her to Kalake to recuperate. It's the only choice we have."

Chapter 4 -- The Island

Laci could swear she was smelling salty sea air. She was positive she could feel ocean breezes. She couldn't seem to think clearly. Every inch of her body, from her brain to her toes felt limp and muddled.

Her eyes blinked as she tried to open them. They rebelled against the glare in the bright room. Where the hell was she? The room was open, airy, with wispy white curtains on the windows and around the bed. They blew gently in the breezes from the open window, and there was no question she could smell the ocean. She was wearing one of her favorite nightgowns and on the pillow next to her was a stuffed unicorn that was usually on her bed, but this wasn't her bed. This bed was huge, dark wood, canopied, comfortable, covered with cool, snowy white linens and would have been wonderful if she had any idea where she was or how she had gotten there.

"Are you actually awake?"

Laci turned her head slowly, attempting to focus on the deep voice and on the man standing in the doorway who had just asked the question. He seemed vaguely familiar. VICTOR!

As recognition set in, the look in her eyes changed from confusion to fear, and she tried to untangle herself from the bed linens, falling back when the weakness and dizziness overtook her. "Please," she begged, tears forming in her big blue eyes, "help me. Why did he do that to me?"

He was at her side, placing a cool cloth on her forehead, soothing her. "It's okay, Laci. You're safe. Try to relax."

She wasn't sure she was ready to relax. Full of apprehension she asked, "Where am I?"

Victor smiled at her. He spoke softly, "Ironically, Laci Grace, you are on Kalake. It's Donovan Corbett's private island. Kalake is a Hawaiian word. It means grace." At the mention of Donovan Corbett, her eyes again turned fearful. "It's okay, Laci. The Prince of Darkness isn't here." She still wasn't taking his advice to relax. "Look, honey, I know you're confused. How about if I help you get up and sit in one of the chairs out on the lanai? You've been pretty out of it, and the fresh air will be good for you."

Still mistrustful, she allowed Victor to help her stand up and walk. There was no question she would have fallen if she had tried it on her own and she didn't understand why she felt so weak or why the small, simple act of walking a few steps exhausted her.

Victor got her settled in a wicker chair overlooking the ocean. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the cool breeze and when she opened them, he was at her side offering her a glass. "Have some juice."

The frosty glass looked cool and enticing, but she instantly flashed back to the last time this man offered her something to drink. She could remember feeling dizzy, almost falling, hearing the taunting laugh in the background. She could remember waking up naked, strapped to that table. "NO!" Her voice was fearful, but emphatic.

Victor sighed. "Laci, I know you don't trust me and I know why you don't trust me, but you have to start eating and drinking. How about if I take a sip? Will you drink if I drink first?"

She watched him drink, then nodded in agreement. She was so thirsty.

"Don't gulp. I know you're thirsty, but you've hardly had anything for the last two and a half weeks. Drink it slowly. There's plenty more and maybe later, you can have some soup."

She tried to get her brain up and running. She was on an island, Donovan Corbett's private island and she hadn't had anything to eat or drink for two weeks. Why? What had he done to her? Victor said he wasn't there. When was he coming back? "Why did you call him the Prince of Darkness?"

Victor chuckled. "You've been ranting in your sleep and that's how you always refer to him. It just stuck. I have to say, for a sweet, angelic looking girl, you have one hell of a vocabulary, Laci."

She glared at him. "Does he know where I am?"

"Yes, in fact coming here was his idea." Victor saw her eyes cloud. "It's not what you think, and you may not believe this, but he was trying to help you by sending you here. He's not going to hurt you. Donovan isn't the bad guy. The only bad guy in the scenario is Frank Harding. He's the one you should be afraid of. The Prince of Darkness is like Prince Charming compared to Harding."

Laci looked at him with a mixture of suspicion, confusion, and mistrust. "I don't understand anything you've said. Frank Harding is a creep, but he never did anything like what your boss did to me."

"Donovan did what he did, because Frank Harding told him to. Harding set you up." He could see she still didn't understand. "Look, I'm not going to sugar coat this for you. You may look innocent, but you're smart and you're a strong lady, so I'm just going to tell you as much of the truth as I know. You knew what Donovan Corbett did when you came to his house that night. He's always been open about his...shall we call it...hobby....of training submissives and sex slaves. It's a business, a lot of people have used his services, he's good at it, and he makes a lot of money doing it. I'm not going into the psychology of what makes certain people dominant and others submissive, but as far as Donovan knows, he's never trained anyone who wasn't willing to be trained."

Laci was watching him with mistrust and curiosity. Victor could tell she still didn't understand, so he continued. "Harding sent you to interview Donovan Corbett, am I right?" She nodded her agreement. "Well, that's not what he told the Prince of Darkness. Harding told Donovan to train you as a slave. He told Donovan to be as rough as he wanted, because that was what you liked. Harding said he had been involved with you for a while, and you liked playing the victim, so Donovan could use any and every method of brute force on you. Donovan's job was to break you, whip and beat you into submission, then return you to Harding. Frank Harding has had slaves for a long time, but he's not a dominant, or a disciplinarian. He's vicious and sadistic. He tortures women for his own perverse pleasure."

From the expression on Laci's face, she was clearly horrified, shaking, more than a little angry. Victor took her hand to comfort her, surprised when she didn't pull away. "Why would he do that? All I did was go to work and try my best to get ahead." He thought she was going to cry, but she didn't. Finally she turned to Victor, asking, "Now what happens? Do I bring some kind of charges against him?"

"Laci, Harding is a vile and dangerous man. He's also powerful, but Donovan and I can make sure he gets what he deserves. It's just going to take a little time, and you're going to have to trust us, and not ask questions."

"If he knew Frank lied, why did he do what he did to me? That freezer was inhumane."

"Donovan didn't know, at first. He caught on when you tried to kill him with your bare hands. You may not know much about the world of discipline, but submissives don't customarily attack dominants. Be honest, if he had been as naked as you were, you would have tried to strangle him with his own cock."

Laci turned red at his words. "For some reason, I don't really feel like apologizing for my actions."

Victor laughed at her statement. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, the Prince of Darkness didn't check you out ahead of time. He just guessed you had been Prom Queen." She glared again. "How about if I make you a little soup? You need to start getting your strength back. I'm pretty sure Donovan is expecting you to try and beat the shit out of him the next time he sees you. You're going to need energy to chase him around the island. If you're good and start eating for me, I'll clue you in to where all the hiding places are."

"Why haven't I been eating? What did you do to me?"

Victor sighed. "You got sick. I'm guessing your numerous visits to the ice chest, plus your anxiety about what was happening, wore you down. Do you remember when I locked you in the cell?" Her narrowed eyes answered his question. "Okay, well, when I checked on you in the morning, you were feverish and having chills. Donovan and I knew something wasn't right, so he went to see Harding. The son of a bitch said he tried to put some moves on you, but you weren't interested. He was determined to have you whatever way he could. Once Donovan found out the truth, we couldn't just drop you off at your apartment. You would have been an easy target for Harding, so, to keep you safe, he sent you here. Even though you've been burning with fever, you've been fighting me about eating and drinking because you were afraid of being drugged. You're pretty dehydrated."

"Why is he so interested in helping me?" she asked suspiciously.

"Maybe a little guilt. Donovan Corbett doesn't train people who aren't willing, and you kind of threw him off balance. He saw the list of questions you had with you. He liked them. He liked that you didn't seem to totally understand how he lives his life, but you were willing to learn, and you were respectful of his choices even if you didn't agree with them. He also admired how you stood up for yourself. You really didn't have a chance against the two of us, but you didn't let that stop you. For what it's worth, I admire you, too. Even when you were scared shitless, you were strong and fought for yourself."

"How did my unicorn get here?"

Victor sighed again. "Okay, this is the part when you have to start trusting and not asking a lot of questions. I'll tell you what I can. Donovan overheard a couple of the people in the office talking about you when he went to see Harding. They were saying they were worried because it wasn't like you to miss work and not call, wondering if something was wrong, whether or not they should give you another day or if they should send someone to check on you, talking about your apartment, where it was, stuff like that. Donovan came up with a plan. He wants Harding to believe you escaped and ran."