49. Dungeon
FORTY-NINE
Dungeon
MELISSA
The world tilted as Pierce dropped Melissa onto the massive bed. She bounced on the spongy mattress and flopped to her side. A wave of nausea surged up and demanded an outlet, but she swallowed down the acid burn.
Her shoulders ached from her bindings, and her hips cramped against the forced flexion caused by the tight chains. Her knees fared no better. The linings of the ankle and wrist cuffs protected her skin. Her wrists and ankles weren’t abraded and raw, but that was a small blessing considering she was now in Pierce’s dungeon.
Much bigger than she imagined, the dungeon looked to be a converted storm shelter. How had he dug this out of the earth? How had he hidden it from the neighbors? The bed took up the front part of the room. The back of the shelter had been removed, and the space extended—dug out of the earth. Thick timbers shored up the roof. Poured concrete filled in the gaps between naturally occurring boulders to form the walls. The whole place was horrifically…cozy.
On the far wall, a man was in chains, his arms pulled brutally over his head. An iron bar at his ankles forced his legs far apart. A black hood covered his face with holes for eyes, nose, and mouth, and a gag had been stuffed in his mouth. Terrified eyes stared out of the hood as the man thrashed against his bonds.
As if that wasn’t scary enough, eight cages lined the space between her and the man on the wall. Every cell held a woman, except the one to the left of the bed, which remained empty. Her stomach twisted, wondering if that one was meant for her.
The women made no sounds, except for the slight rustle of movement. Soiled princess gowns adorned them. Scott paced the length of the cages, his gaze cutting left and right with a predatory intensity and a pang of desperate hunger.
What sort of mind created such a place?
“Ah.” Scott’s voice dropped an octave, turned husky, and sickening. “This must be Gretel?”
“Gretel,” Pierce commanded. “Present yourself to our guest.”
The woman knelt, hands on her thighs, head bowed. The poor thing could barely hold herself steady.
“I thought you kept them naked? Why are they dressed?”
Pierce pointed at the man chained against the wall. “Because of him.”
“Does it even matter?” Scott already dismissed the man on the wall.
Beneath the black hood, the whites of the man’s eyes grew even wider. Her heart went out to him. She didn’t know how to help him but prayed for a miracle.
“I suppose it doesn’t.” Pierce clapped his hands, making Melissa jump. “Princesses, line up for our guest. Kneel before a great man.”
Rustling sounded all around. The women positioned themselves at the front of the cages.
Without a break in his step, Scott called out their names. “Gretel, Cinderella, Red Riding Hood, Sleeping Beauty, Goldilocks, and this must be your Belle.” He stopped at the cage closest to the bed and pointed to the last woman. “I don’t recognize this one? You’ve added to the collection?”
Pierce stepped away from the bed, and Melissa craned her neck to get a better view of the room. Opposite from the cages, beside the chained man, a sight out of a medieval torture chamber revealed itself. Wood benches, padded with leather, sat beneath rows of whips, chains, and devices she’d only ever read about. They looked well used.
“This is our Fairy Godmother,” Pierce said with pride. “She’s in training, one week in, and she’s learning how to please me, aren’t you Henrietta?”
“Yes, my Prince.” The woman issued a weak whisper.
It couldn’t be?
“Too old for my tastes,” Scott said with a sour tone.
“You’d be surprised,” Pierce crowed. “Her oral skills are pleasing.”
“I’m not interested in someone so old.”
“She’s not much older than your wife.”
Scott turned, and she shrunk away from the brutality in her ex-husband’s eyes. “I don’t want to fuck my wife either.” He pointed to the two blondes in the middle. “Can I have them? Beauty and Goldie?”
“You don’t need two,” Pierce said.
“I’ll start with one and see where the night leads us.” Scott rubbed his hands together. He turned, and his attention focused on the wall of torture. “What can I use?”
“I thought you wanted to deal with your wife’s punishment first?”
Scott glanced back, and Melissa dropped her gaze. “I haven’t had a woman in three years. I’m hard as a rock and ready to fuck. I’ll deal with her later.”
“Beauty is good with her mouth,” Pierce suggested. “I don’t allow them out of the cages more than one at a time.” He snapped his fingers, and the woman moved. “On your knees, Beauty.” He turned to Scott. “She stays in the cage. You don’t need her out for this.”
“A blow job?” Scott sounded disappointed, but he unfastened his pants. His eyes flicked toward Melissa, and she dropped her gaze, not wanting to incite her husband any more than necessary. “What about teeth and biting?”
“Beauty won’t bite, and she knows better than to scrape with her teeth, don’t you Beauty?”
“Yes, my Prince,” came a soft reply.
Pierce placed a hand on Melissa’s head, gripping her hair. He lifted her face to him. “Don’t worry, my Queen, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to perfect your skills, too.” He tapped her lips with his free hand and then released her hair.
Melissa’s head swam with horrifying images of her future if she didn’t find a way to get free.
Scott dropped his pants and pressed against the bars, wiggling his hips as he did. His guttural sigh told her everything she didn’t want to know.
“Holy fuck, that’s amazing,” Scott said with a groan.
Pierce shifted his attention to Melissa, giving the strangest look. It was at once compassionate and cruel. His fingers snapped, and he stepped to the cage holding the woman he’d called Belle. He unfastened his pants and freed himself. He rested his head against the bars and sighed as Belle pressed her lips to his cock.
“Serve your Prince, my beautiful Belle.”
The men’s low sounds of pleasure filled the room.
Melissa fought her bindings, coming no closer to unfastening the locks.
She propped herself on her elbows, determined to get a better view of her surroundings. The manacled man stared back, blinking behind his hood. She turned away, knowing his fate, and helpless to do anything about it. Her gaze landed on the cage closest to the bed.
The woman inside mouthed. Are you okay?