Chapter 53
Spring
A Superfan’s Fantasy
“We have another special treat for you today.”
I peeked at the other girls’ faces while silently praying for it to be a willing day and not the other kind. I didn’t so much mind the days when X seemed to enjoy what was happening on her side of the two-way mirror.
Something in the way our instructor spoke and how she carried herself made me suspicious. I should have trusted my instincts. I tried to rationalize that it was terrible the last time we were in this room, so this time it might not be.
But no. Instead, it would be a new series of special requests that all four of us girls would be tortured with. I guess I should say mentally tortured with because, for us, it would never come to pass, but for the girls on the other side of the mirror, it would become the stuff of nightmares.
Once we were all situated, the curtain was drawn back. The room was almost pitch black. The only thing we could see was a set of feet. There was something odd about them. Instinctively, all of us drew closer to one another. We stood in order: Winter, Spring, Summer, then Autumn.
“We’ve begun to poll your audience members and your superfans.
We have asked them to tell us about some of the things they want to do with you.
So now every other Saturday will be called fantasy day.
A showcase of what you can expect once you are with your own Masters.
” She was overly enthusiastic and giddy.
Winter’s pinkie wrapped around mine, and I squeezed it before she let it go. I, in turn, wrapped my pinkie closest to Summer around hers, and so down the line, we silently tried to give each other strength. It was our equivalent of a hug. The movement was subtle and quick.
“Today, we will start with Autumn. This special request was from a man who calls himself the Prince.”
Autumn’s breath hitched, and she instantly paled. I wanted to hug her so much at that moment; the fear radiating off her was beyond thick.
“Autumn, you’ll want to pay special attention, as you’ll be required to write what part you’re looking forward to the most. Ladies, you are to give a detailed synopsis from beginning to end of what you’ve seen.”
The light was brought up, and all of us stood dumbfounded.
All the participants we’d ever seen on the other side had been women.
But today’s was a girl, older by a few years, but not much.
My stomach clenched in denial. The feet made sense now; they were small.
I looked down and shook. Autumn sucked in her breath.
The girl was bent over a bench. Chains bound her around her ankles and wrists. They were tight, and we could see where she had been fighting against them. The raw red skin stood out starkly. She wasn’t moving, and at first, I thought she was dead, which caused me to fear for Autumn even more.
I then focused on her body and saw the slight rise and fall of her breathing. She was wearing a princess dress from some fairy tale. A groan sounded, and she moved again, trying weakly to free herself. Her jaw was chattering. She was so cold.
The bench she was bent and tied over looked rough and had no padding. She was struggling to breathe. Out of the corner of my eye, the pale, white face of Autumn crying haunted me while we waited for the door to open.
The Mask came down the hall, his footsteps echoing and announcing him even before he walked in. He approached the girl.
“Look at you, so pretty. Let’s see if this wakes you up?” He leaned in and kissed her. I stifled a cry when the girl jerked away.
“Sleeping Beauty awakens,” he exclaimed.
I fixed my eyes on her feet, only to have my face slapped. “Spring, you will watch.”
I nodded and refocused on what looked like a small nail hole in the wooden bench top, just shy of the girl’s stomach. He ripped her princess dress off as she cried and begged him to let her go. We were forced to watch as the Mask slapped the girl, calling her names.
She whimpered and cried. He whipped her with a switch, leaving bright red welts across her body.
We had to watch while he forced her to take his cock in her mouth.
He pushed too far, and she gagged and threw up.
I cried for her, knowing he was going to hurt her badly.
He beat her unconscious and then waited for her to come to before he raped her.
He left her tied up, bleeding, sore, and used, and the only thing left for us to hear were her tiny whimpers of pain.
He pulled his pants up and bowed. We thought it was over, but we were wrong.
The Collector entered the room with some wire and a propane torch.
He held her down firmly so she couldn’t move her bum.
The wire was held up for us to see. It was an intricate letter P.
The wire burned bright as it was heated with the torch.
Autumn sobbed hysterically, and my heart broke for her. When he pressed the wire into her smooth flesh, a sizzling sound ripped through the room. She flinched and began screaming over and over.
Her voice echoed off the walls. The skin suddenly opened as if it had melted away, and a puff of smoke rose in the air. Autumn began screaming. It was the one and only time I’d ever heard anything from the dark-haired beauty, and it tore at my soul.
I woke up screaming, wanting to add my voice to that of Autumn’s and the unnamed girl’s who had been branded. I never wanted my bears as badly as I did right then. If I had them, I would have held on to Autumn’s bunny and soothed away her fears.
My mind tried to rationalize that Autumn was safe. Wherever she was in the world, she was safe. But the other girl, she wasn’t. Reality slapped me, and I couldn’t get my crying under control. My screams must have alerted Sophia and Christopher, as they came rushing into my room.
Sophia gathered me in her arms as I sobbed. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe, Kinsley. No one can hurt you here. I’ve got you.”
“Should I call Marcel?” Christopher asked from the doorway.
“No, honey, she’s going to be okay, aren’t you?”
Concern etched her kind eyes. She spoke to me in a gentle, soothing tone, tightening her grip on me.
I lay in her arms, my body trembling. The tenderness in which she held me was like a lifeline in that moment.
The rhythmic sway of her rocking motion created a soothing cadence, surrounding me with a sense of security.
Then, as many mothers do with a frightened child, she hummed a soft tune. The sound, gentle and melodic, filled the room and caressed my frayed nerves. In that instant, the tension that had gripped my muscles released its hold, and I relaxed into her deeper.
“Ty v poryadke,” she said over and over to me in Russian. You are okay.
Sophia continued to hold me, her voice transformed into a tender melody, flowing from deep within her.
The familiar tune danced in the air, delicately weaving its way through me.
It was an old Russian lullaby, its notes evoking memories long forgotten.
Her voice was filled with warmth and nostalgia.
I lay there in awe, wondering how many times she held her own children and sang to them when they were scared.
I was transported back to my childhood, to the times when my mother sang the same lullaby.
In Sophia’s arms, I could almost feel the gentle brush of my mother’s fingertips against my cheek, the soft cadence of her voice creating a safe haven within me.
In that moment, I was both a grown woman seeking solace and a vulnerable child yearning for the reassurance of a mother’s embrace.
Several minutes later, my tears had stopped, and she laid me back down.
Christopher had pulled over a chair next to my bed.
He was thumbing through the book on my nightstand.
“Could you read out loud a little, Mr. King?” I asked, not ready for them to leave.
“Absolutely. Honey, tuck her in tight and sit beside her,” he told his wife as she looked at him lovingly.
The exchange was sweet, and their love for one another struck me deep. I listened until my eyes grew heavy and his hypnotic voice lulled me to sleep.
CHRISTOPHER KING
“Good lord, I wasn’t expecting that. What on earth?” Sophia asked. My wife’s body shook as we closed Kinsley’s door.
“I’ve no idea, honey.” I wrapped my arm around her and led her to our bedroom.
“Did you hear what she was screaming, Chris? Who could she have been talking about?”
I grabbed my wife’s face, stopping us short of our door.
“I don’t know. I’ll give Alek a call later. Let me get you settled first, then we’ll find out. It’s going to be okay.” I soothed Sophia’s nerves the best I could.
All the while, I could still hear Kinsley’s little voice saying, “They branded her. Why? I just don’t understand why?” A sense of dread washed over me, and my stomach sank.
The last conversation the guys and I had regarding Kinsley and her family background had me fuming. Anger burned through me as they’d shared what little they knew. Marcel had more of the details, but what the boys shared was enough to make me shudder.
Thinking back upon my daughter, who I’d failed to protect, I promised my sons that I would look after Kinsley while they were gone. I knew about her abduction, increased the amount of security I had, and hired several new bodyguards to patrol the grounds.
Still not understanding the relationships between my sons and her, I pushed all of that to the side. My one and only priority was her safety. A nagging sensation settled in my gut, though. I needed some additional information.
This nightmare blindsided both Sophia and me. Hearing her screams awakened my own demons. Seeing my wife hop into comfort mode once more, like she used to do with Vanya, almost broke me.
How many times had she sung “Cossack Lullaby” to our frightened daughter? How many times had I seen the same reaction from a little girl needing the comfort only a mother could bring?
Vanya used to have nightmares almost nightly, and one thing that helped was determining what triggered her.
I tried to apply that to our newest charge.
What had set Kinsley off? I took my wife back over to her side of the bed and tucked her in.
With a trembling hand, she reached up and caressed my face.
“Chris, it was like old times. Like with our sweet Vanya, holding that girl felt exactly the same. All of it,” Sophia sobbed. I climbed further on the bed and held my wife while she cried in my arms.
Once she was breathing evenly, I disentangled myself from her embrace and left the room. As I closed the door behind me, a heavy sigh escaped my lips. I ambled down the hall, the familiar creak of the floorboards echoing my footsteps.
I took the stairs to the library, where my gaze drifted to the liquor cabinet. Hesitating for a moment, I contemplated the wisdom of seeking solace in a glass. But the echoes of Kinsley’s distress had unnerved me, and I needed something to steady me.
With a modest pour, the amber liquid kissed the bottom of the glass. Raising it, I took a sip. The anguish of losing my only daughter hit me anew. After several more sips, I was finally calmed down enough to dial Alek. The phone rang, each passing second amplifying the unease in my chest.
Finally, Alek’s groggy voice filled the line, laced with concern and sleepiness. “Father? What’s wrong?”
“Sorry to wake you, Son,” I greeted him, attempting to keep my voice steady despite the swirling thoughts inside me. “Kinsley had a nightmare.”
A pause sounded on the other end of the line, the silence stretching between us, heavy with concern and understanding.
“How is she now? Do you want me to call Marcel? He won’t mind coming.” My eldest son, my look-alike, sighed, and in that one sound, the heaviness of his burden was made known. He loved this girl fiercely, as I loved his mother.
“No,” I reassured him, my voice carrying a hint of relief amid lingering apprehension. “Your mother calmed her down nicely.”
“And did you calm Mother after?” The worry deepened in his voice. He knew how his mother got, having seen me comforting her time and again over those years with his sister.
“I did. I think calling Marcel can wait until tomorrow. Son, what happened to Kinsley, like really happened? She kept repeating that they branded someone.”
“I don’t have a lot of details, Father. All I know is her grandfather had her kidnapped, held captive, and mentally tortured with her future.
She was supposed to be a slave whore.” His voice broke, and I hurt.
For him, for her. Hell, for my other boys as well.
And an anger burned within me. “He’ll make her one again if he gets his hands on her.
We can’t let that happen, Father.” Aleksandr’s voice grew stronger as his focus shifted.
“I am in 100 percent agreement with you on that, Son. I’ll do whatever you need. Whatever.”
I knew what my boys did, what they’d become. I carried that burden with me as well over the years. If we could keep Kinsley safe, maybe, just maybe, I could taste a bit of that redemption they told me comes with what they do.
“Father, please don’t let Mother in on too much. I don’t want to worry her.”
“I can agree with that as well. Get some sleep. I’ll keep you posted if anything else happens. I love you, Son.”
“I love you too, Father. Take care of her for us.”
“As if she were one of my own,” I assured him.