2. Mimosa
CHAPTER 2
Mimosa
Nobody looks at me as we get onto the elevator.
That stands out to me, somehow. I’m this unwashed woman with bright orange hair, in an oversized coat and flip flops, but none of the staff even glances twice at me. They greet Drake Brutal, and he nods in response, but I’m invisible.
I should make a scene. I should shout, cry, beg. Try to run, maybe.
But Elena had made it very clear to me that if I didn’t cooperate, the boss would hunt me down and personally torture me. Not to mention the billions and billions of dollars that Drake Brutal can throw around to ensure law enforcement is on his side.
At the start of the year, I still might have tried.
Now, I’m more than aware of just how unfair the world is.
It’s a long elevator ride all the way to the very top. I guess I’m not surprised that Drake Brutal has a penthouse apartment.
Of course, intellectually knowing it doesn’t quite prepare me for the reality of it. Even just stepping out of the elevator, there’s a disgusting amount of luxury on display in the form of fancy vases and expensive paintings. The floor is a very smooth marble.
Somebody must come up here and clean, right? Will I get to see them ?
More importantly, will they actually see me, or will they ignore me the way the concierge and bellhop had?
Brutal herds me out of the elevator and into the foyer, where I can see a spacious living room with wall-to-wall glass on two sides. It gives a beautiful but terrifying view of the night sky, dim lights providing some lighting as we head toward a set of stairs. “Up,” he tells me, right on my ass as he walks me up the stairs. “You smell like you haven’t showered in weeks.”
The complaint is a little on the nose; it’s not like I do get the chance to bathe often.
Getting to shower properly will be nice, I guess. Hopefully he’ll give me warm water, since the showers I’ve been subjected to the past few months have all been quick, cold rinses.
I don’t say a word as I walk up the stairs. I wish I could believe it’s because I have nothing to say, because I’m defiant, but I know the truth.
I’m terrified of saying something that will turn this stage of the nightmare into an even worse hell than I can imagine.
That’s another thing I’ve learned in these past few months. There’s no end to the pain and torture. It can always get worse.
“So tell me the truth,” Brutal says as we reach the second floor, and he opens a door to the right-hand side. “How many men did you bite before they had to threaten to rip out all of your teeth?”
I step into a room with a bed easily as large as the entire cell I’d been living in, and he waves me toward another door. Ambient light pours in from the city around us, making it seem bright despite the late hour.
I glance at him and lick my lips. “A few. But only the ones who deserved it.”
“You aren’t going to make me waste my breath threatening you, are you?” he asks, his voice jovial despite the mocking smile on his lips. “Go on, through the door. You’re stinking up the place.”
I walk into the bathroom. Drake flicks on the lights, and I try not to let my awe show.
The room is huge. One wall is all window, but this high up, there’s literally nobody who would be able to peep through. A large shower with multiple shower heads and clear glass walls runs along one wall. I realize the stone texture inside the shower has a small trickle of water going along it.
A fucking waterfall feature, inside the shower.
I glance at the large tub in the other corner, which appears to have jacuzzi jets. Several plants are set out near the tub, right up against the windows. Near the large, two-sink vanity is an ottoman which has a tray of oils and lotions set on top.
This is nothing like the small, three-by-three shower, no window bathroom I’d had before all of this.
I turn to look at him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Shower first,” Brutal directs me. “Just to rinse all the grime off of you. Then I’ll get you into the tub and we’ll go from there.”
I unbutton the coat and set it on the counter. I take the flip flops off nearby.
Nudity used to be something I’d dreaded. So many people have seen me naked now—this man has seen me naked, even—that it barely registers.
I walk into the shower and stop when I don’t see a standard handle for the faucet. I pull on it, and I’m surprised when it’s instantly warm, at the perfect temperature.
He moves the tray and sits down on the ottoman, watching me. “Tell me about yourself,” he says, crossing his arms across his chest.
I almost don’t hear him over the water, and I pretend I didn’t. The water feels so good, and I focus on scrubbing myself clean with the luxury soaps and shampoos. I’d much rather get clean and enjoy the warm water than converse with the kind of man who buys women.
After a few beats, though, he repeats, louder, “Tell me about yourself.”
It sounds more like an order now.
Without turning around to face him, I answer, “My name is Mimosa. I’m twenty-two years old. I was born in New Bristol.”
That’s the extent of what I want to tell him.
Brutal is quiet, and for a moment, I think he’s going to leave it at that. But then there’s a bit of cool air and a massive presence behind me, and I realize that the sound of the water had cloaked his movements as he’d stripped and gotten in behind me .
He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. “You know, I’m the sort of guy who gives orders and gets answers,” he says, his voice low and almost conversational. “Good answers, not ones a fucking robot could give. Did something about this situation make you think I just wanted your fake name and fucking age, Mimi?”
I tense, clenching my fists. Soap runs down my breasts as the water rinses me off.
“Call me Mimosa,” I repeat. “And I don’t know what answers you want. I’ve been ‘working’ like this for the past few months. There’s nothing else important about me.”
His fingers find my nipple and pinch hard enough to make me gasp. “Observation number one, you still have too much attitude for someone who worked at that hellhole.” Even though he doesn’t actually voice a threat, I can still hear the warning in his voice. “Observation two, you think I’m just another client to satisfy and be done with.”
I bite my lip to swallow a sound. He’s expecting an answer, though. I just need to figure out which answer that is.
“You saw what I’m like,” I answer as steadily as I can. “If you didn’t like it, you didn’t have to buy me.”
His fingers dig into my breast, nails sharper than I would’ve expected. “Oh, is that so? I knew you were a pain in the ass, so I didn’t have to buy you? So it’s my fault you’re a brat, Mimi?”
I whimper in pain and shake my head. “No! But…” No, never mind. There’s no point in arguing with people like this. “I’m sorry. What do you want, Sir?”
It isn’t even hard to keep the sarcasm from my voice. I’ve had far too much practice at pretending to be meek and obedient.
Or maybe I just did become empty.
Brutal’s cock bumps against my back as he moves in, arm circling me and pulling me against him. “First thing you need to know about me is that I get bored very, very easily. And I think it’s pretty safe to say you don’t want me to get bored with you.”
“Why?” I ask, both curious and afraid. “What happens if you get bored of me?”
He slides his hand down my stomach, teasing the light layer of pubic hair. “I’m not going to sell you,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to let you go back to that life, or to the one before it. I’m going to find ways to keep myself entertained, and if you survive it, that’s great. If not, well…”
My heart freezes. “Okay,” I say carefully. I turn around so I’m facing him, and the water hits my back. He’s several inches taller than me, and it means I need to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “What makes something interesting for you? How do I keep you entertained, if I don’t know anything about you ?”
“That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said since I met you, I think,” he says, meeting my eyes. There’s a challenging smirk on his lips. “I guess you’ll just have to figure it out. It’s your life on the line here, not mine.”
I press my lips together as I think about how to respond. “Okay. So how do you want to be entertained right now ? You want me to suck you off? You want me to spread my legs so you can fuck me against the shower wall? Am I supposed to cry and beg, or do you want somebody who fights back?”
Brutal laughs at me. “I guess I want somebody who thinks she’s above it all.” He reaches up and places his hand on my throat, pressing his thumb down hard. “Because I noticed, all right. You were pretending to be dead to it all, but then you bit him. Not so inured after all.”
My eyes widen as the pressure increases. I try to take a step back, but I hit the shower wall and he only looms closer.
He pins me against it with ease, his large body pressing against me hard enough for me to feel his erection against my pelvis. I whimper, but the sound is barely audible above the pouring water. As he puts more pressure on my throat, I reach out, clawing at his arms. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Why don’t we try again?” Brutal says with a dark smile. “Tell me all about yourself. Did you have a boyfriend before all this? What were you doing, before you got pulled into that pit?”
He stops pressing quite so hard against my throat, and I gasp in a breath of air. I can feel the burn of tears in my eyes, but they’re lost to the water spraying into my face. “No, I didn’t have a boyfriend,” I say, desperate to avoid being denied the ability to breathe again. “And I was… I was in college. I had a good life.”
A good life I’m not sure I’d appreciated as much as I should have .
Brutal laughs. “College! Nice. I liked college. The sorority girls were…” He brushes his thumb over my lip. “Well, they were always up to being adventurous.”
This is better than being fucked by a bunch of random men, I tell myself. A little conversation is fine, even though I don’t want to tell him a damn thing about myself. “I wasn’t in that kind of sorority,” I inform him loftily. “I’m not a party girl.”
“Oh?” Brutal pushes his thumb past my lips. “That’s too bad. I love parties. I think we can make a party girl out of you yet.” He pulls his thumb out and rubs my chin with it.
Nausea rises within me, and it’s all I can do not to throw up when I think of just what kind of parties he probably goes to. “What, you go to college parties like the pathetic waste of flesh you are?” I find myself biting out.
He laughs again, but instead of answering, he leans down to kiss me. I gasp and remember to hold still, to not do anything that could backfire on me.
It’s a near thing though, especially when he grabs my ass to pull me closer. His cock rubs insistently against my body.
I panic, and I bite down on his lip in what should’ve been a warning but is actually utterly stupid. I want to apologize, but I hate that he’s trying to kiss me, that he’s trying to turn this into something it’s not meant to be.
He groans and only kisses me harder. “Careful,” he whispers when he finally pulls away. “I like a little bit of sass. Just enough to keep it interesting. Not so much that I’m wondering if I should return you for a different model after all.”
“Maybe I want to be returned. Maybe I don’t want to be here with you like this,” I say even though this is better—so far—than being chained to a bed and fucked over and over again until I’m wishing for the end to come.
“Mimi, Mimi, Mimi,” Brutal chides. “If I returned you, Pavone would do far, far worse to you than before. He’d think you’re just broken product, and I promise you, if you thought what he was doing to you was bad before, you have no idea what he’s capable of. ”
The worst part is that I don’t doubt him. Brutal might be end up being bad, but he’s the better of two evils.
He smiles at me. “I think we’ve stalled enough. Why don’t you turn around and press your hands flat on the wall. I’m going to fuck that cute little hole of yours. I should definitely get my dick wet today, after all this trouble.” He glances up at the showerhead. “Wet with cunt, not just water.”
“My cunt isn’t wet,” I mutter, and something occurs to me. “You know the guys don’t always use condoms, right? I could have something serious.” I just have to hope that deters him enough to get me out of this right here and now.
Something flickers across his expression, and I can see that I might’ve gotten through to him. My hopes are dashed when he grins again, though. “Yeah, so, Elena already checked for that. She knew I wasn’t gonna buy some diseased cunt.”
There goes that idea.
I turn around to face the wall, resigned to all of this. The shower is new, but other than that, this is really the same as every other day for the past few months.
Brutal squeezes my ass cheeks, then spreads them. “Hmm. Maybe instead of cunt, I should go for ass?”
I freeze, shaking my head quickly. “N-no, please,” I say, swallowing hard. “I’ll… I’m going to behave, okay? And maybe I’ll get wet for you. I’m sure you… know how to use your cock really well.” God, those words hurt to say.
“But you just said I don’t know what’s in there.” He lets go and reaches to one of the shower gel dispensers suspended on the shower wall.
I watch, realizing that it’s not shower gel he pumps out. That’s lube.
He catches my gaze and smiles. “It pays to be prepared. You never know when you want to fuck somebody in the shower.”
Fuck.
Anal is my least favorite. “I can suck you off,” I say desperately. “I’m really good with my mouth.”
Brutal laughs in my face. “I know you can suck me off, and I know you’re probably great with that pretty little mouth. But I’d rather take that ass. Move out of the water a little so the lube doesn’t wash off.”
“Wait,” I croak out. “Wait. I’m not… I’m not stretched out or anything.”
He leans in right against my lips, murmuring, “I don’t particularly care.” He grins again, that fucking grin I already hate. “I have a doctor coming to look at you tomorrow. How convenient, right? If I damage anything, he’ll just fix you right up. Now shut up, Mimi.”
I let out a soft whine, but I let him position me, offering my ass up. Despite his words, he shoves a finger into my ass, exploring and touching and stretching me out — just a little, though, because before long, I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against my hole. He starts to push inside before I can even get used to the idea, and while this isn’t the first time this has happened, he probably has one of the larger dicks that’s ever been inside me there.
It takes work, and he’s grunting while I cry as he shoves his way inside. I’ll be bleeding, I know, but this asshole will probably enjoy that.
He groans in my ear, nibbling the earlobe and making me shudder. I’m sensitive there, enough to where I can’t help but let out a little whimper that’s not entirely from pain. It turns that way, though, as he starts to fuck in and out of me, grabbing my waist so tightly that he’s going to leave bruises.
More bruises.
They won’t be the first, and I know they won’t be nearly the last.
He fucks my ass until I’m crying in pain, careless of the fact that I’m miserable — or maybe he just enjoys that. Probably the latter, because it doesn’t even take him more than a few agonizingly long minutes to stiffen and groan before he spills into my ass. I can feel it, hot and invasive, and all I can do is stand there with my hands and forehead pressed against the wall of the shower.
He’s panting, his breath hot against my neck, and he nips me almost gently before he’s biting harder, sucking, leaving his mark on my skin. “I can’t wait to mark you for real,” he murmurs, then laughs. “Maybe I’ll have you tattooed as ‘Drake’s slut.’ What do you think about that, Mimi?”
I shudder and blink hard, trying to stave off the tears. I didn’t think I was still able to care so much about my body. I thought that had all been fucked out of me.
“Does it matter what I think?” I ask in a whisper.
Drake snorts. “Nope.” He pulls out of me and reaches down to play with my hole.
I wince at the sensation.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and put away for the night.”
Something about his tone of voice has my hackles up, but I don’t say anything. He washes my hole, turns the water off, and directs me out of the shower.
We towel dry. I’m glad he didn’t make me towel him off and that he didn’t insist on touching me, either. I don’t want him touching me at all, but I know that’s not on the table. I’ll take whatever small moments of reprieve I can. He puts his boxer briefs back on, but he doesn’t give me any clothing.
“This way,” Brutal says, guiding me to the adjoining bedroom.
It’s larger than the entirety of the apartment my sister and I had when I was growing up. My college dorm room could probably fit in here four or five times. The large bed can easily fit four people on it.
“This is where you’ll be sleeping.”
At first, I think he means the bed, until I realize he’s pointing next to the bed, where there’s a large metal dog cage.
I freeze, staring at it in disbelief. He has to be joking. There’s no way he intends to make me sleep in a cage. “What,” I croak. “N-no. I’m not going to do anything stupid, I promise. You don’t need to lock me up.”
“I know,” he says, flashing me a cocky smirk. “Just like I didn’t need to buy you to begin with. But you’re my pretty little pet, and I like my pretty little pets to go where they belong. So go on, Mimi. You can crawl over there and get in. I might even give you a blanket if you make me happy.”
He’s a fucking psycho.
I hesitate for a moment, and Brutal snaps his fingers. “Go,” he says more sharply. “In the fucking cage before I lose my temper and just shove you in there.”
I start to walk, but he grabs me by the back of the neck and forces me down to the smooth hardwood floor. Instead of getting back up like I want to, I swallow my pride and crawl my way to the cage before getting inside.
I won’t be able to stretch out completely inside of it. It’s maybe four feet by four feet, which seems like it would be generous for a dog but is nowhere near big enough for me.
“Good girl,” he crows. He grabs a throw blanket from the foot of the bed and tosses it in behind me. “There you go.”
I pull it over myself immediately, squeezing my eyes shut as he shuts the door behind me with a pointed clang. I hear a lock clicking into place.
Now I’m trapped here, completely at his mercy.
Maybe this isn’t so bad, I tell myself. The blanket is warmer than the one I’d had in the hellhole. There won’t be ten or twenty men demanding my attention tomorrow.
“Fuck, you look hot in there,” Brutal says. “Can’t wait to play with you tomorrow.”
My heart tightens. Maybe five minutes of attention from twenty men each is still preferable to a full day of Brutal, though.
“Night, Mimi!” Brutal says before he turns off the lights.
And so begins night one as Drake Brutal’s property.
I wish I could say it’ll only get better from here, but I know better.
Great.