Just Curious Ch. 10

Elliot is trying to figure out what's happening. "You shush back there. This is my birthday present. If I die from this, let my family know I died a happy man." I give him another big squeeze and his head lolls to the side. His hands are gripping my hips.

"You're not going to die, you old fart." The banter between the two men is emboldening me. The insecurity and fear of the unknown slowly slip away to nothingness. A sense of normalcy seems to settle over everything. The clicks of the camera fade into the background. Marcus wants me to fuck this man; his friend. Marcus wants to give this man something exceptional for his birthday.

Sweat starts to form along my hairline, down my back and under my breasts. My hips and legs are starting to feel the burn. I place my hands on either side of his face, drawing him back to me. "Happy Birthday, sir. Marcus trusts you and respects you. He has given you his toy to play with. I am yours to use. I am yours to take. What is your birthday wish, sir? Tell me and let me fulfill your every need. Or take me and I'll give you everything I have. Use me, sir. Please."

Elliot shifts suddenly and I find myself beneath him. His long hard strokes take my breath away. I watch his eyes as he takes me, wrapping my legs around his waist. His breath is coming in hard gasps. He's driving himself to completion. The constant thumping against my clit is shooting bolts through me. I can't hold out any longer. It starts in my core, wrapped tightly around the cock driving into me, and waves of pleasure roll through me, cresting over and over again.

Elliot is lying on top of me, completely still, his muscles taught. I watch as he slowly starts to relax. His shoulders first, then his breathing, then his head drops down against my shoulder. We lay like this for a while before he extricates himself from the tangle we made on the sofa. He grabs me by my hair and pulls me so I'm lying on my stomach across his lap. I don't resist as he presses my face into the sofa cushion. "Jesus fucking Christ, Marcus. And she has no experience?"

I can hear the pride in his voice. "100% natural untrained painslut. Her instincts are high level."

I don't know what that means, but it sounds like a perverted form of a compliment. I let the men discuss me. "Her skin is flawless. The marks show perfectly on her." He's talking about the whip Marcus used on me before he took my ass. I feel Elliot's fingers circle the three scars on my back. Dustin's scars. Elliot doesn't say anything, but Marcus answers the unspoken question. "Crops, whips, and a cane. She came from just the pain. Seven stokes of the cane; it was her first experience." I shiver as the hatred drips off his words. Dustin did that to me.

Elliot sits quietly. His hand is still in my hair, the other caresses my ass. I just lay there, exhausted and sated, on his lap. "What are you going to do with her?"

"She goes back home on Saturday. I gave my word. She can't stay here. You and I both know that, and I think she knows it too. She's a good girl; she doesn't belong in this world."

My voice is soft; barely a whisper, but both men hear me clearly. "I want to stay. You said I have a voice in what happens to me."

I hear him rise and walk over to us, kneeling down by my head; he brushes the damp hair out of my face. "No babygirl. You can't stay here. You don't belong here." He looks to Elliot before continuing. "I'm not a good person." I try to protest, but his fingers cover my mouth. "My profession requires that I do certain things, things you can't be a part of. If you stay, the cops will be after you to get to me. Criminals will try to take you to get to me. Desperate people will try to use you. That's not a good life for you."

He kisses me and pets my hair. "Imagine 24 hour surveillance, bodyguards everywhere you go. You wouldn't be able to go anywhere spontaneously; everything would have to be planned and vetted. Few friends. Would your family understand? What would you do to bide your time, locked in the condo, day after day. Month after month."

"You go out alone, without bodyguards."

"It would look bad if I was cowering behind bodyguards. I've had some close calls, but I've come out on top each time. But there's always the chance that one day I won't. What would you do then? You couldn't go home, it wouldn't be safe. You'd be alone, or be given to someone else. No babygirl. You can't stay. You are so strong. I know you'll land on your feet and thrive."

The words hurt, and I don't want to hear them, but deep down I know they're true. I don't even know how bad he is. I remember the pictures the cops showed me. The dead people. The missing people. Marcus helps me up off Elliot's lap, and Elliot goes to hop in the shower quick. I just lean into Marcus, letting him hold me, letting him make it all better.

We've been quiet for so long, I jump when the silence is broken. "Are you tired?"

"Exhausted."

Elliot walks out of the shower, stark naked, and walks over to us. He picks up his pants off the floor. He leans in and kisses the top of my head. "Thank you, girl. Marcus should be proud of you." He shakes Marcus's hand and thanks him, then he starts to dress, right there in the middle of the office.

Marcus gives me one last hug before letting me go. "You were spectacular. And I am very proud of you. Let's get you home and in bed. I know how grumpy you get when you're sleep deprived." He slips the broken dress over my head and tugs it so it sits properly. He and Elliot have a short, private conversation by the desk. Elliot is sitting in the chair, pulling his socks and shoes on as they speak. He looks so much smaller than Marcus.

The drive back to the condo is quiet and uneventful. It's just after 5PM, according to the dashboard. First thing is a shower. I'm chained up in his shower and he carefully and thoroughly cleans and inspects me from head to foot. I just half stand/half hang there as his hands wash me everywhere. He washes himself, then releases me. He dries us both off.

I'm led to his bed. Marcus pulls the blankets back and tucks me in, kissing me on the forehead. Marcus is still naked as he wanders around the room. I watch him as he plugs his phone into the charger and closes the blinds and the drapes. He leaves the room for a bit and returns. He does some stretches before climbing into bed besides me.

He pulls me into his arms, making me grunt at the sudden motion. He wraps his arms around me and we settle into sleep.

*********

I brush something off my nose. It lands on my ear, I brush that away too. "Stop it. Go 'way." I hear a soft masculine laugh. The fog of sleep starts to drift away. Why can't he let me sleep? "Wha?"

"You are a grumpy little thing when you wake up, aren't you?" I take a swipe at him, but my arm gets tangled in the bedding. "Time to get up. Dinner's here." Involuntarily I sniff. Chinese?

"Food?" I'm starving. But am I more starving than tired? "Wha time it?"

It becomes a mute point when he pulls the blankets off me. "It's almost 8:30. I let you nap for almost 3 hours." He grunts like a caveman. "Food." Grunt Grunt "Then movie." Grunt He wiggles his eyebrows. "Then mating." Grunt "Me like mating." Grunt Grunt

I'm giggling too hard to be mad at him. "You are such a dork. I have to pee."

"Oh, and that was so much more romantic. Get your ass up, or I'll spank it."

"Promise?"

His eyes go wide and he starts laughing. "Minx. Get up now. That's an order, little girl." He walks out the bedroom and turns down the hall toward the kitchen.

I grumble as I roll to the edge of the bed and stumble out of it. First stop it the bathroom, then the kitchen. My nudity is becoming second nature by this point. Marcus eyes me up and down. "Forgetting something?" I look around, confused. He rolls his eyes at me. "There's something on the bed for you."

I clap my hands. "Yeah, back to bed, where I wanted to be in the first place."

"Hey, you have two minutes, before I come get you, and that will not be pretty." I'm too far down the hall to respond.

There is something on the bed. Two something's, in fact. Oh My God. Boy shorts! He's giving me underwear? No way! And a cami. The black soft material feels so good sitting snuggly against my ass. I spin, giddy. The equally black cami slips on easily. A long lost friend with little red bows where each of the shoulder straps attach to the front.

I skip back to the kitchen. "Looky! Looky looky looky" I spin around showing him my new outfit.

He grimaces. "Yuck. It's dreadful! Even worse than I imagined."

I go to him. "It's not." I kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Marcus."

"Yeah, yeah. You deserved a reward, and I wanted you to feel comfortable. Don't get used to it. Those things are still repulsive." I just smile at him, and do another spin.

There are several Chinese food boxes laying scattered across the table. It smells so good. I'm starving. "Kneel." The smile instantly leaves my face. I see the dog bed on the floor by his chair. I walk to it and sink down to my knees, my spirits sinking with me.

Marcus bought an assortment of Chinese cuisine, and begins to eat. I wait, staring at the floor. I feel a tap-tap on my head, I look up and he's offering me some noodles dangling from chopsticks. I tilt my head back and open my mouth, and he drops the noodles in. I return to staring at the floor, chewing the tasteless food. Trying not to cry.

The meal goes by in a blur. Nothing has any taste, just the repetition of chewing and swallowing over and over again. I don't come out of my funk until Marcus announces dinner is done. He helps me to my feet, and for the longest time he just looks down at me, not saying anything. Suddenly he leans down and kisses the top of my head before storing the leftovers in the fridge and cleaning up.

He leans against the table and pulls me into his arms. "What are you feeling?"

"Broken. Sad. Degraded."

"I was very pleased that you dropped down when I commanded it. You didn't even give me a reproachful look. You should be pleased. Don't look so sad."

"I just hate it. It's just.... It's so... I hate it. I can't explain it." I want to pull away from him, but he won't let me go. He just holds me, telling me how good I was.

He pulls back and lifts my face so I'm looking at him. "I am so very proud of you. You made me very happy tonight. You did what I asked, without hesitating, even though you didn't want to. But it's my job to keep you happy. You did your part; you obeyed, even though it took you the better part of a week to do it. Now I'll do my part; keep you safe and happy. I won't make you kneel and be fed anymore."

I look up at him, confused. "I thought you liked when I did that?"

"I do. I enjoy the act of feeding someone. I enjoy the sense of power and the submission given to me. But more than that, I want to keep you happy. And it's obvious this doesn't make you happy." I'm not sure how I feel. I'm ecstatic I won't have to be fed like a dog anymore, but at the same time I think somehow I disappointed him. "Do you have to wash up or use the bathroom? There's a video I want you to watch, and I don't want it interrupted."

I don't really have to, but I think it'll be better if I do, just in case this takes a while. He gives me ten minutes, and then I'm to be back in the living room. Standing in the bathroom I look at myself in the mirror. I look the same, but there's something different. It's not the underwear, but I do look odd wearing them after going so long without them. I think it's my eyes. My eyes are different. They look deeper, more intense. I look older. Not age, but more mature. I look stronger.

When I'm done, I find Marcus cleaning up in the kitchen. He looks me over; I can see he's worried or concerned. He holds out his hand and I place mine in his. He pulls me into another embrace. Something bad is going to happen, I just feel it. "There's something we have to do, and you're not going to like it." Yup, I nailed that one on the head.

He leads us to the closet with the washer and dryer. There are two electrical panels on the back wall. He opens one, and reaches up and presses into a small opening at the top. The electric panel snaps out and he swings it open. Behind the panel is something that looks like a safe. He presses his hand onto a black square and after a few seconds it beeps and turns green. He enters a long string of numbers into a keypad and there's a soft click.

The door opens and I see stacks of cash, some notebooks, several manila envelopes, a few thumb drives and multiple DVD's. He takes one of the DVD's and locks up the safe. He makes a point of showing me the DVD. My name is on it. My breath hitches and my heart starts pumping faster. That's not what I think it is. Is it?

Silently, he leads me over to the living room and plugs the DVD into the system. He sits on the sofa and pulls me into his lap. "You need to see this. You need to understand what happened. If you need to stop, the red light/green light is what you need to say. Understand?"

"I don't want to watch this. I can't." My eyes pleading with him.

"You can. And you will. You need to see this." His eyes are hard, unwavering.

"Yes Marcus." This sucks.

He watches me for a moment. He points the remote toward the TV, my breath hitches. Please don't. Please don't. I watch his thumb press the power button and the TV starts to flash. I take another quick breath. It's just a black screen with my name, Dustin's name, and the date I was with Dustin overlaid with the symbol for 'play'. "I'm right here. You're safe. You're cherished. If you need to stop, say red light, and we'll stop. But we will watch the whole thing. You need to see and remember what happened. I noticed you had some memory gaps. That's not good. You need to see what you endured. Ready?"

I nod my head, not trusting my voice. "Good girl. Remember, you're safe here. Nothing bad will happen to you. You are mine, and I will keep you safe." His thumb presses the play button, the TV flashes, and I start to tremble. He wraps an arm around me and holds me close.

There's a girl, standing by the door of a room that looks like it belongs in a log cabin. Dustin. I can't breathe as Dustin walks into the room. He snaps his finger and points to the floor. The girl, me, walks to the spot he pointed at. She's nervous, fidgeting, eyes darting around. Is that really me? That wasn't the same girl I saw looking back at me in the mirror today.

In contrast, Dustin is calm and confident. "Strip for me." I see the girl's eyes go wide.

"What?"

"I want to see you naked. Now." The voice isn't a command. It's almost casual, like he was ordering pancakes for breakfast. Dustin steps back and sits down in a rustic, wooden arm chair. He picks up a guitar and starts playing a soft, slow tune.

The girl looks around. I don't know if I was looking for help, or escape, or just trying to buy time. After an eternity, she slowly pulls her shirt over her head. The scenes go on. Some I remember, some I don't. Either my brain was too frazzled to process everything, or it shut down to protect itself. I don't know. I just know I look scared. So very, very scared.

Marcus talks me through the scenes. Tells me why Dustin is doing certain things, and why I'm reacting in certain ways. When I can't look anymore, and turn away, he pauses it and calms me, before we begin again. When there are breaks in the movie, someone put in a screen that says the time skipped; like '47 minutes later' or '22 minutes later'. Those are when I'm left alone and waiting.

I'm in a full blown breakdown by the time we get to the whipping and the caning. I begged! I begged him to do that. Marcus has wrapped himself around me, holding me tight. I think that is the only thing keeping me from having a panic attack. The girl on the screen is visibly shaking, but not with fear, it's need. A deep, primal sexual need. The cane comes down on the poor girl and I flinch every time.

She's begging again, but her words are wrong, she's almost incoherent. Dustin hits her with the cane three times, in quick succession; one on each nipple and the third on her clit. My clit. That's me up there. The body hanging from the chains starts to twist and contort. She screams. I haven't heard her scream yet. Her body is still spasming as Dustin slams himself inside her over and over again. She offers no resistance.

Dustin steps back to watch her. Then he kisses her. "So fucking perfect." He looks the girl in the eye. "We're done for now, girl. I'm going to clean you up, and get you to bed. Just relax and let me take care of you." He takes something out of her ear, then walks off screen, and the TV goes black.

Marcus just holds me, letting me cry, letting me purge the emotions I've been holding inside. I turn around in his arms and curl up in his lap, my arms just barely wrapping around his wide chest. He holds me tight and whisper in my ear until I stop crying.

"Why? Why did you make me watch that?" I haven't looked at him yet. I'm still clinging to his strength, his solidness, and that wonderful scent. "Why?"

"To show you what you're capable of. Both the good and the bad. In the right situation, that would have been glorious. Your body alive with energy. That is the reward for submission. But that same energy can cloud your judgment. It can make you blind to your limits. A situation like that, with the caning, should only be done with someone you trust implicitly. You have to trust them to respect your limits. You're voice is your power, and if your unable to speak, the dominant needs to know your limits and respect them. That can only come with trust, and time and experience. You can't know that in one day and neither can they."

I can't think anymore. I don't know which was more brutal, experiencing it the first time, or having to watch it the second time. "Can we watch something else?" If I go to bed like this, I'll be awake and screaming in hours.

"No. You're facing the wrong direction entirely. How are you going to watch anything like that?" I snort and thump his back with my fist.

"I'd turn around, obviously. Don't be mean to me. I've had a bad day."

He pulls back, and for the first time looks me in the face. "Have you? Was today a bad day? I was so proud of you, for everything you did today. You spoke up when you wanted something, and what a glorious something it was." I can hear the mischief in his voice and see the twinkle in his eyes. I still can't believe I asked for anal sex. "You were perfect at the office, and Elliot said you were just as perfect at SkinFlicks. And watching you cum... I have no words for that. You were in your element. You were as you were meant to be."

"Well, maybe that was OK, but I feel pretty horrible now."

He wipes my face. "You do look pretty horrible right now." I snort again, and a half-ass laugh escapes. "Laughter is the best medicine. I'm not sure how true that is, but you look better laughing, than crying."

"You're incorrigible." Leaning my face against his shoulder. Soaking up his warmth, his strength, and his scent.

"Yes I am. Thank you for the compliment." I thump his back again, but he did make me smile. "I have the perfect movie in mind. You go to the bathroom and I'll get some snacks and get the movie set up."

I crawl off his lap, it still feels weird to be wearing underwear, and go to clean up a little. When I get back, the leftover Chinese boxes are on the coffee table. He's focused on ordering the movie. I just watch him. He's handsome and strong and funny. I remember being terrified of coming here. Of him. He looks up at me and smiles. "You ready? You look better."

"I feel a little better. Thank you. What movie did you pick?"

"Ohhh. It's a surprise. It's a super scary, gory, supernatural horror flick. One of the best ever made."