Prince of Darkness vs Prom Queen

She turned her back on him and walked out of the room.

He stared after her. What the hell had just happened? The last thing he needed was another conscience, especially one in the form of a tiny, beautiful, blonde, angelic-looking tyrant, with big, blue eyes. Donovan Corbett, Dominant, Master, Trainer of Sex Slaves, Mephistopheles without his Armani suit, had just been mercilessly lashed by the Prom Queen, and she'd never even touched the fucking whip.

He turned to Victor. "I should fire you."

Victor was smirking at him. "You might want to re-think that. I'm not sure you can count on her to untie you."

"Untie me, Victor."

"Snarling isn't the best attitude to have when you're standing there, tied to the door, with your cock blowing in the breeze."

"Untie me, Victor."

"You know, Donovan, did it ever occur to you that the reason Harding sent her to you was because he was afraid of her?"

"Untie me, Victor."

Chapter 6 -- Know Your Enemies

The location of Kalake made it seem very remote, miles away from inhabitable land. In reality, it was a short helicopter ride from civilization, but Laci didn't know that. She didn't even recall her arrival on the island. Victor said a fever made her slip in and out of consciousness. Was that true?

She remembered arriving at Donovan Corbett's home, her uneasy feeling at being there alone. She remembered her first sight of him sitting behind his desk, how imposing he appeared, how nervous she felt. She couldn't forget his demeanor towards her, his coldness, how insignificant he made her feel. Would she ever forget being drugged, waking, finding herself naked and strapped to the table, how painful her bare skin felt in the freezer, when he blistered her ass with the wooden paddle? Did that hurt more than being referred to as nothing more than a business transaction?

At the far end of Kalake, at the point furthest from the house, where the tropical forest growth met the beach, there were a couple of small hills and hidden rocky caves overlooking the sea. She had discovered them during one of her explorations and often sat there in the afternoon. The caves and overgrowth provided shelter, made her feel protected from Victor's watchful vigilance, but allowed her to see the waves and wonder what was going to happen to her.

She went to Donovan Corbett's home to interview him. Or so she thought. She had been suspicious about the Prince of Darkness agreeing to meet with her, but had Frank Harding really set her up? Every instinct told her Harding was a repugnant individual, but had he really believed he could turn her into a sex slave? Wondering about the town leaders who willingly accepted Frank Harding and Donovan Corbett didn't help her confusion. Was she ever going to be free to leave Kalake, and if she did leave, where would she go? Would the Prince of Darkness allow her to leave? Was anything he and Victor told her the truth or was it just more lies? What was the truth? What was going to happen to her?

Her mind drifted to the afternoon's earlier events. She hadn't been expecting Donovan to corner her in the library, and she definitely didn't want to have a conversation with him. When he did speak, he was as cold and arrogant as he had been the night she thought she was interviewing him. Probably the only time he had listened was when he was naked, tied tightly to the door frame. She had been looking right at him when she indicated one hundred lashes might be the proper amount for revenge. Was that brief flash of reaction confusion? Was it disbelief? Fear? She wasn't sure but it was the only time the man had shown any kind of emotion.

She still couldn't believe it had actually happened. The Prince of Darkness had stripped off his clothes, without any apparent shame or embarrassment, not that he had reason for either. He was a very good looking man regardless of what he was....or wasn't....wearing. Of course, he didn't have to be naked to be transparent. The fool actually believed he could justify his own actions by trying to get her to behave the same way. He really thought he could tempt her to pick up a whip and lash him and that she would enjoy doing it. The Prince of Darkness underestimated her. Laci Grace could think of several things to do to a man who was naked and tied to a door frame, but none of those things involved a whip. She stifled a small giggle. She should at least be truthful to herself......MOST of those things didn't involve a whip. Donovan Corbett would be surprised at the things he didn't know about the Prom Queen.

She lost track of time, sitting in the cave, listening to the waves, thinking, dozing. At one point she thought she heard some kind of motor. A boat maybe? Maybe he was leaving. Could he have sent Victor away? Victor wouldn't leave her alone with Donovan, would he? Considering what had happened in the library, she wouldn't put it past the Prince of Darkness to persuade Victor to get on a boat with him, the two of them sailing off and leaving her alone on the island. He'd enjoy frightening her, leaving her alone, not knowing when or if he was coming back. She was just a business transaction.

It was nearly dark by the time she walked back to the house. She approached slowly, with some trepidation. Something didn't seem right. Was it possible the bastard actually had gone away and left her alone? Maybe she should have used the whip when she had the chance.

Relief flooded her briefly when she heard the sound of voices, but the relief faded quickly. Approaching carefully and quietly, she could hear Donovan arguing with someone. It wasn't Victor. Then who.....?

Frank Harding. The three men were in the dining room. She could see through the window. Victor and Donovan were seated at the table, and Frank was holding them at gunpoint.

Harding was accusing Donovan of stashing Laci somewhere. He had known Donovan was up to something when he had gone to Harding's office, asking questions. Victor had told the truth about that.

Donovan was yelling back, insisting he had no knowledge of Laci Grace's whereabouts, accusing Harding of not wanting to pay the money he owed, accusing him of setting fire to Donovan's house. The psychopath had actually torched Donovan Corbett's house? Victor had never mentioned that.

Donovan's voice was very loud. She didn't know him very well, but she had seen him angry. Even when the anger had been directed at her, his voice was deep, thunderous, intimidating, but always in control. She wondered if he was yelling to warn her about Harding's presence. Maybe they had been honest.

She knew there was a boathouse by the beach, but it was always tightly locked. She remembered hearing a motor earlier. That must have been Frank, but she had no idea where he had moored his boat. She had to be logical. Even if she was able to get to a boat, where was she going to go? It was almost dark and she wasn't sure which direction to head to reach land.

There weren't that many places to hide on Kalake. If she hid, there was every chance Frank would shoot the two men and eventually find her. She knew Victor had a gun, but she wasn't sure where it was. If he had access to it, he probably would have used it. If Donovan had a gun to defend himself, he also would have used it by now, and wouldn't be sitting at the table yelling his head off.

She could only think of one option and of one weapon she could use. She hoped it was still where she had last seen it. Quietly she snuck around the other side of the house and entered through the library.

As she approached the dining room, Donovan was still yelling at Frank who was still demanding to know her whereabouts. When she stepped into the room and announced her whereabouts, both Victor and the Prince of Darkness were facing the door and looked as if they were ready to throttle her with their bare hands. Frank was cackling a twisted, vile laugh and screaming about killing the men and about the depraved things he was planning to do to Laci. It was like a scene from a pathetically bad movie. At that moment, she wasn't sure what or who was more irritating. At least bad movies had popcorn.

Laci was taking small steps toward Harding. Donovan was furious. What the hell was wrong with her? Didn't she hear him yelling? Why the hell hadn't she hidden? He'd paddle her so long and so hard she wouldn't be sitting for a year. What the hell was she hiding behind her back?

She moved quickly, yet hardly moved at all. In her complete control, the bullwhip lashed savagely on Frank Harding's hand. His laugh became a scream of pain and outrage as the gun he was holding flew across the room. She struck again, and the end of the whip coiled around Frank's throat, so quickly and so tightly, his oxygen was cut off, his face rapidly turning blue. Victor was already out of his chair and had the gun in his hand. The Prince of Darkness was staring at her.

For the second time that day, she turned her back on him and walked away.

For the second time that day, the Prince of Darkness watched her departure, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Laci Grace didn't stand much more than five feet tall. Laci Grace was guileless and innocent. Laci Grace had long, blonde hair and big, cornflower blue eyes that made her look like an angel. Laci Grace slept with a stuffed unicorn. Laci Grace was a Prom Queen. Correction: Laci Grace was some kind of mutant, gladiator, super hero, Prom Queen who handled a whip like she was Indiana Jones. Of course she did.

On her way out of the house, she grabbed a blanket from the back of a chair. Even in the dark, it only took about fifteen minutes to walk back to her hidden cave. She didn't care what happened. She just wanted to be away from everything. From Frank Harding. From Kalake. From the Prince of Darkness.

Wrapped in the blanket, she could hear most of the commotion. A helicopter landed on the beach. It sounded like Frank was being turned over to authorities, although from the way he was screaming, she had a feeling the authorities weren't exactly official. Victor had mentioned Harding's many enemies, so she supposed he deserved whatever he got. She heard a lot of angry shouting, then the helicopter was taking off. She didn't know who was leaving with it and she didn't care. Spending time alone on a remote tropical island had some advantages over being tricked into being a sex slave or being regarded as a business transaction.

Finally, the only sound came from the waves crashing on the beach. She sat alone, annoyed for feeling sorry for herself. That wasn't something she usually did, although, she reasoned, a little self-pity was appropriate, sometimes.

The silence didn't last long. Victor and Donovan were combing the beach calling to her. At one point, Donovan was just yards from where she sat huddled in the small cave. Wow! He was asking her to 'please' answer if she could hear him. That was a shock! The Prince of Darkness said 'please'? True, she didn't know him very well, but not once had she heard him say the word 'please' to anyone. Not that it really mattered. Let him think she stowed away on the helicopter, or believe she decided to swim and take her chances with ocean predators. Ocean predators weren't that much different from land predators, and she was just a business transaction.

It was a good thing Victor had enough sense to grab for Harding's gun. Donovan had spent way too much time staring after Laci, trying to remember who it was that was supposed to be protecting who. Victor was finally able to get his attention and it only took a few minutes to place the call to one of Harding's enemies. They would be only too pleased to take Mr. Harding off Donovan's hands. To Donovan's disgust, Frank Harding was sitting in a corner sniveling about the wound he had received when Laci hit him with the whip. When he discovered who would be arriving to pick him up, his wound would be the least of his worries.

The helicopter arrived quickly. Harding had become hysterical when he saw who had come for him. The coward actually tried to plead for Donovan Corbett's protection. Donovan had no trouble stating that the plea might have been taken more seriously if his home wasn't a pile of smoldering rubble. The helicopter departed almost as quickly as it arrived, carrying a terrified Frank Harding and a few people who would know exactly what to do with Mr. Harding's chair of nails.

Donovan was certain Harding would never be seen again, and the philosophic Victor pointed out that Donovan had actually done a service to taxpayers, since there would be no trial or prison sentence.

That left one question: Where was Laci?

The two men started searching, inside and outside the house. She wasn't in the bedroom she had been using. They checked behind furniture and curtains, in closets and cupboards, under every bed, but she wasn't anywhere.

Grabbing flashlights, they headed for the boathouse, but it was locked as it always was. The boat Frank Harding had used to gain access to the island was tied to a small pier-like structure, so she hadn't left using a boat. They wondered if she might have gotten on the helicopter, but dismissed the idea. Harding's enemies had landed with a small army. Someone would have seen her if she tried to escape.

They set off in opposite directions along the beach, calling her name. When they met in the middle, there had been no sight of her. They continued circling in different directions, eventually meeting back at the house, never locating her.

Victor made coffee while Donovan paced. A few weeks ago his life was peaceful and orderly. He owned a very profitable business and financed other enterprises. He traveled all over the world, dressed well, stayed at the finest hotels, ate at the best restaurants. He had an unconventional but lucrative side business training sex slaves and submissives. He was a respected member of the community.

Then Laci Grace ambled up his driveway, and the home connected to that driveway had been burned to the ground, along with his training facility and most of his designer suits. He had barely escaped the inferno, he had been held at gunpoint, and he had just turned a dangerous, sexual deviant over to a group of hoodlums. How had peaceful and orderly turned into chaos?

A thought crossed his mind and he turned to Victor. "Did you have any idea she could handle a whip like that?"

"Yep."

Obviously peaceful and orderly weren't going to be resurfacing for a while. "And you just let me strip, dick-side-up, and tied me to the door frame? She could've fucking killed me!"

"Yep."

"Is that all the justification you have?"

"Donovan, get over yourself. She wouldn't have hurt you." He paused for a minute. "Too bad Harding wasn't hanging there. He was crying because of a cut on his hand. Hate to think what she could've done to his dick, not that the asshole wouldn't have deserved it. Would've been good, though."

"And where did the Prom Queen matriculate? Dominatrix University for the Performing Arts?"

"You know, I kinda wish she had taken a few swipes at you. Maybe you would've learned something. No, Donovan, she worked at a ranch to put herself through school. Her parents split when she was a kid, and the divorce wasn't pleasant. She became a pawn between them, a business transaction. Neither of them really cared about her. They were more concerned about making things tough for the other. She was shuttled back and forth between them, never really had a place to call home, especially when they both got remarried and started new families. Then she just became an inconvenience. She said most of the time her parents never even remembered when it was her birthday. Just before she turned 16, she took off on her own. They still don't seem to realize she's missing."

He had not expected to hear what he was hearing. "Why a ranch?"

"They paid well. There was a pretty good sized ranch not far from her high school so she showed up one day and asked for a job. They laughed at her, but she begged for a chance and they gave it to her. She proved herself. There was some big, old, grey stallion none of them could get close to. She'd bring him a carrot every single day. At first, just left it on the fence, but eventually, he started watching for her and coming to meet her. He'd throw a shit-fit if she was late. Wouldn't ever let anybody else ride him, except her. She called him the Prince of Darkness. She'd throw a shit-fit if she knew I checked her story out. Thought it was a load of crap, but it's the truth. She worked her ass off at that place, harder than most of the guys. Spoke to the owner. Fuckin' horse still looks for her."

"She started doing that before she was 16?"

"When she first started, she'd sneak back into the barn to sleep, in the morning she'd take a bus about 15 miles to go to school. When the owners found out, they told her she couldn't stay there, so she stopped. When they found out she was sleeping at a homeless shelter, they converted a tack room for her and let her live there. She finished high school, put herself through college. One of the old-timers taught her how to handle a whip. The owner said she liked the dexterity it took. He liked it because he never had to worry about any of the guys messing with her. From what he said, you're damn lucky she didn't take you up on your offer. She probably could've turned you into a gelding with one strike."

The Prince of Darkness couldn't stop himself from flinching at Victor's comment. "How'd she end up in Harding's radar?"

"She doesn't want to be a rancher; she wants to be a writer, and she's pretty good. I saw some of her stuff when I was packing it up. Didn't tell her that. I don't want to be a gelding. Anyway, after graduation she found out about the new magazine starting up, so she asked for a job. They hired her, she relocated to town, started putting down roots, had her own little place to live. It went great for about the first year, then they hired Harding as her boss. He started giving her a hard time from day one, but she kept her distance. She said she knew he was a creep, but she never knew he was as depraved as he was. She said she had already started looking for another job when Harding saw her reading some newspaper article about BDSM and your role in the local scene. He dared her to interview you. She wanted to get ahead, so she took him up on the dare. That was how he got her to go to your place. She had no idea he had other plans for her. I only have her word for that, but she didn't lie about anything else, and after getting to know her, I believe her."

Donovan was silent for a long time, staring out the door at nothing but his own thoughts. "Why didn't she use the whip when she had the chance?"

"Better question is why did you let it go so far? I wasn't in there when it first started, but I was in there for most of it. She didn't tell you to undress. She didn't say I had to tie you to the door. She just made a couple of observations about how it was for her. Next thing I know, you're bare-ass, hanging from a door frame. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was trying to prove a point. She said I enjoyed her pain."

"Didn't you?" Victor questioned.

"Of course not. I'm not like Harding."

"Aren't you? Why'd you hit her so many times with the paddle?"

"I thought she'd scream, beg me to stop. She didn't."

"So you were going to just keep beating her? You were going to continue until she screamed? Or passed out? How does that make you different from Harding? The only difference I see is that for you, it's a business transaction. You get paid for doing, what he does for fun." Victor looked at his boss. "I've worked for you for a long time and we know each other pretty well. I don't always understand what you do or agree with it, but I know you need to have the control. I get it. There are some people that are pain-sluts. I don't understand it, but I respect their right to choose and live their lives however they wish. I've helped you train a hell of a lot of people over the years, and as far as I could tell, every single one of them was exactly where they wanted to be, doing exactly what they wanted to do."