Slaves of the Billionaire (7 page)

Trent then took the cold metal and started snipping at my latex corset. He had pressed scissors against my back and was cutting off my clothing. Trent was rough with the scissors and a few times it felt like the scissors had pierced my skin. When my back and buttocks were exposed, Trent ran his hands across my body.

“Such a pretty girl,” said Trent. “I love seeing you cry.”

My face was wet with tears.

“Let me go, Trent. Please.”

“Beg some more.”

I swallowed. “Please let me go.”

“That’s not good enough. Beg again.”

I felt a quick rage overtake me. “Fuck you.”

After a few seconds, I felt a whip sear my skin. It was painful. I cried out, but this seemed to spur Trent on. He started hitting me in rapid succession.

“Stop!”
I yelled.

Trent put his body against me. I could feel his cock jutting against my buttocks.

“Dresden, my beauty.”

“This isn’t fair.” I was sobbing.

“Shhhh. Hush, my little slave.”

“I’m not your slave. I’m in power.” I felt desperate.

“But you’re the one tied up.”

I rattled the restraints. “This is over, Trent.”

“Submit to me, Dresden. Submit.”

“No.”

“You’re in pain. You’re miserable until you submit. You so desperately want to trust. You’re tired of being in control. Give yourself to me.”

“Stop.
Just stop. Please let me go.”

“Give yourself to me.”

I sobbed.

“Be my slave, Dresden. Call me Master.”

“Stop…” My throat was thick with emotion. Trent stepped away from me and I felt the whip crash against my skin. Over and over. I howled.

“Give yourself to me.”

“Please, stop.”

I heard Trent drop the whip and approach me.

“Be my slave, Dresden.” His breath was hot on my neck.

“I…” I couldn’t form words. I didn’t want to give in to him and yet I did want to give into him. I was conflicted and miserable. The idea of not having to be in control was appealing and sexy to me. I had thought of submitting to a Master numerous times in the past, but no man I met seemed worthy of my submission. Trent was different though. He was strong mentally.
A true warrior. If I gave in to him, he could care for me.

“Say it, Dresden.”

“I want…”

“Say it.”

“I want to be your slave.”

“Why Dresden?”

“I want you in control.” The words slipped out. I felt relief. Trent slid his cock into my pussy from behind. I felt whole and complete. The pleasure numbed my back where I knew welts had formed from the whip.

I became Trent’s slave and I called him Master. The word felt strange in my mouth, but it was also liberating. Our moments were special. I felt my wounds from the past were healing. I felt less angry. With every punishment and degradation I was getting healed.

After two months of being a slave to Trent, I received a note at my apartment on thick blue paper. The note read:

Your appearance is requested at The Darkest Pit on September 10th. Wear red. Make yourself beautiful. You will be meeting my other slaves.

             
I ripped up the note.

             
“Other slaves?!” I yelled. I was furious. I began plotting my revenge.

Megan:

             
It took me hours to get dressed. I went to the salon, had a manicure, a pedicure and got waxed. I chose a black bandage dress and Manolo Blahnik heels. My nails were bright blue. I felt beautiful. I was excited to meet the other slaves. A limo came to pick me up at 8 PM on September 10th. When the car pulled up outside a building with a door with no numbers or lettering, a tall red-haired woman emerged. The chauffeur opened my door and the red-haired woman greeted me.

             
“Megan?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“Wonderful. I’m Sinister Light. Follow me. The others are waiting.”

             
She led me through beautiful and ornate rooms. There were several men sitting at a long bar and exceptional looking women standing in groups, chatting. I got several curious glances.

             
Sinister Light knocked lightly on a door and then opened it. The room was full of French antiques. The walls were papered in white and red velvet. The room felt luxurious. Sitting primly in white was a brunette woman with large, round breasts. There was also a woman reclined on a chaise lounge sipping champagne. She was honey blonde, with fine features and a pert nose. She was pretty without being beautiful. She looked imperious. She was wearing a strapless red dress.

             
“Ladies, this is Megan. Megan meet Carice and Dresden. Trent will be with you shortly.”

             
“Tell him to hurry up.” Dresden sounded angry.

             
Sinister Light nodded in her direction, but then left the room without a word.

             
“How long have you two been waiting?” I didn’t know what else to say.

             
“Too long,” sneered Dresden.

             
“Not long,” said Carice.

             
“So are we supposed to get to know each other?”

             
“For what purpose?” asked Dresden. “Trent’s just fucking with us.”

             
Carice sighed. “Master would not do that.”

             
“Do you know what this place is?” I asked.

             
“It’s called The Darkest Pit. It’s a BDSM club.” Carice’s voice was soft.

             
“Like a dungeon?”

             
“Yes,” said Carice. “Exactly like that.”

             
“So you’ve been here before.”

             
“I work here. I serve Master and whoever else he wants me to serve.”

             
Dresden laughed. “Pathetic.”

             
Carice and I stared at her. “Are you a slave of Master’s as well?” I asked.

             
“You could say that.”

             
“Do you work here?” I was very curious about her. Her attitude was disrespectful.

             
“Not a chance. I have my own dungeon.”

             
“But you’re Master’s slave?” Carice sounded shocked.

             
“I guess I’m what’s called a switch in BDSM language.” Dresden swallowed more champagne.

             
“This place seems exciting,” I said.

             
Carice smiled and Dresden was expressionless, though I could tell she was seething. I was going to ask another question, but Trent walked in wearing a tuxedo.

             
“Ladies.”

             
Carice and I stood up. Dresden remained on the chaise sipping her dwindling champagne. Trent paid no attention to her.

             
Trent sat down on an overstuffed red floral chair. “I’m guessing you’re all wondering why you’re here.”

             
“To meet your whores.” Dresden downed what was left of the liquid in her glass.

             
“Not exactly.” Trent crossed his legs. “To help the three of you fulfill your destinies.

             
Dresden started shaking with laughter. “What bullshit! I’m leaving.”

             
“If you leave Dresden, you’re walking away from happiness. You and I both know you can’t do that. Your misery would consume you.”

             
Dresden leaned back in the chaise. Her face became hard. The room grew quiet.

             
“Megan, you’re first.” Trent stood up.

             
I followed Trent out the door. He led me down a hall and into a room where several men, at least five, were drinking. There was a raised platform in the middle.

             
“Take off your clothes, Megan.”

             
The men stared at me. I became very self-conscious. I tried to unzip my dress, but my hands were shaking. Trent helped me. When I was naked I was instructed to get on my hands and knees on the platform. I was both excited and scared.

             
“Gentlemen,” said Trent. “This is your gang rape whore. Her holes are yours.” Someone turned on music, electronic funk. Trent leaned against the wall and watched as the men’s cocks were stuck in my pussy, ass and mouth. The men were rough. They pounded me until I thought I couldn’t take it, but then I begged for more. Cum was dripping from my mouth, back and cunt.

             
“This is your destiny, Megan. To be a whore. This is what I know you have fantasized about. Getting fucked by multiple men into exhaustion. I can no longer be your Master, but any of these men fucking you would love to use you and degrade you.” Trent wiped my mouth with a tissue as another cock slid into my vagina. I was quivering and moaning and barely registered the words Trent had said.

             
“Choke me,” I said. One of the men heard me. He yanked my head by my hair. He took his belt and secured it around my neck.

             
“Do you want it tighter?”

             
“I’m not weird.” I could feel tears forming.

             
“Fuck no. You’re hot and kinky. I love that.” The man tightened the belt until I was gasping for breath. He then released his grip and I felt relief flood me. Relief that my desires were accepted and encouraged.

Carice:

              Trent led me out of the room. I was anxious to leave. Dresden unnerved me. She seemed so brittle. Almost unstable. She looked as if she wanted to strike me. I wouldn’t have minded, if that’s what Trent had wanted. In the Bronx, she would have been one of the girls who I wanted to fight. Not long ago, we would have torn each other’s hair out.

             
Trent led me to an open room. Sinister Light took my hand and guided me to the middle of the floor. There were restraints on the floor. My clothes were taken off and I was tied up in a prostrate position. I saw Marcus, my torturer from several weeks ago, walk into the room. He didn’t glance at me. Trent and Marcus talked for some time, then Trent walked over to me. He stared and then took his shoe and kicked my side lightly.

             
“This is your special night, Carice.”

             
Marcus stood next to Trent and gazed at me. “You’re mine now.”

             
Trent crouched down and moved a strand of hair from my face. “You’ve been a wonderful slave and I have been privileged to be your Master. I’m giving you to a new Master. You will be cared for, cherished and degraded.”

             
Marcus smiled at me and I felt a lick of pleasure in my stomach. Marcus rubbed his finger across my clit. Then he smacked me. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

             
The door then opened and Dresden came barging in wielding a knife. I screamed and Marcus jumped up to block her. Trent managed to grab hold of her and he wrestled the knife out of her hand. He looked furious and enraged. Marcus undid my restraints and grabbed my dress. Marcus led me to the door. I looked back and saw Dresden on the floor crying.

             
“I’m going to murder you,” said Trent.

             
Marcus closed the door and the last glimpse I had of Trent was him standing over Dresden holding the knife.

             
In the hallway, Marcus pulled me close to him. “I would have killed that bitch, if she had hurt you.” Marcus petted my head as if I were a pet. He cupped my face with his hands. “You're my special slave. You will be my only slave.”

             
I closed my eyes. I liked the sound of his voice. It was soft, firm and he clipped his words delicately. He was refined. Marcus was what I secretly longed for in the Bronx. In his grasp, I didn’t feel like garbage.  He could call me anything, but I knew he would take pride in his ownership of me. I was wanted and needed. I was special.

             
“I’ll do anything,” I said.

             
“I know you will. Let’s get you home. My home. The place where you will serve me.”

Dresden:

              My heart was breaking. I was collapsed on the floor and bunched up like an old rag. I had wanted to stab Carice. I wanted to mark her. To make her bleed. I had first left the room to find Megan. After opening several doors and interrupting numerous BDSM sessions, I finally found her on all fours getting pounded. She looked rapturous and paid no attention to me. A man had a belt around her neck and he was tightening it. A few of the men looked at me and glanced at the knife in my hand, the knife I had swiped from another play room. I knew I couldn’t overpower all of them, so I left. I went down two more doors and saw Trent near Carice. It looked like he was cooing at her. All I could see was Trent looking tender. I wanted to stab him. I charged, but I was blocked and then struck until I fell and dropped the knife. Carice and the man, whom I had barely noticed, rushed out of the room. Trent was standing over me.

             
“I’m going to kill you,” he kept saying.

             
“Why did you invite me to meet your whores?” I was sobbing.

             
“I invited you to realize that you are the one. The only one.”

             
“What?” I wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

             
“Megan and Carice have a different destiny than you. I have released them to the world. They are no longer my slaves.” I quieted down. Trent set the knife down on a small table. “I like that you are wild. Untamed and miraculous. We’re both strong people and we clash, but it’s exciting.”

             
Trent extended his hand and I stood up. “You’re a mess,” he said.

             
“I’ve been crying.”

             
“No, a mental mess.” Trent sighed. “I want you to be mine, Dresden, but you can’t do what you just did. You can’t let jealousy control you like that.”

“I submitted to you. I’ve never submitted to anyone before.”

“I know. Learn to trust me. Learn to trust my feelings for you.”

“I want to.” I wasn’t sure I knew how to trust.

“I own you Dresden.”

“I know. I want you to own me.”

Trent pulled me towards him. I nestled my face in his neck.

“I have to punish you now.”

Trent led me to a playroom, locked the door and brought me to the limits of pain and pleasure, over and over.