Chapter 19
My eyes are shut and my head hurts, but I don’t care. I’m laying on a cloud. Maybe I dreamt everything. I let out a choked whimper, turning my head to the side, and try to move my arm to rub my eyes but quickly notice it’s stuck.
That makes me open my eyes and look at my hand. It’s tied to a headboard. It wasn’t a dream. Everything is real. I’m in hell. I try to kick my legs but quickly realize they’re tied down also.
No, no no!
What the fuck are they gonna do now!
My chest is heavy like it’s filled with lead, and it feels like hands are gripping my neck. I can’t breathe. My lungs burn as I hyperventilate, and scan the rest of the dimly lit room, but that doesn’t help my anxiety.
I’m in a sex dungeon. I might not be kinky, but I’ve watched BDSM porn before. The space is decorated in red and black. Giving the room a sexy yet elegant feel. It seems contradictory compared to the room I’ve been staying in.
On the wall with the door, there are hooks with ropes, paddles, whips and more things that I don’t know. There are dressers and cabinets that I can’t see what they hold. A bench sits in the middle of the room, a weird cross up against another wall.
Even the footboard looks odd. It is a half wall that looks like it can be separated, with three holes in it. A small, big and another small, it looks like some sort of medieval device that I saw pictures of.
The door opens, and my eyes stop roaming over the torture devices and lock onto the three men who walk into the room. They all look the same.
I must be imagining them and I count under my breath, needing to know how long they will be there. Two of them stop at the foot of the bed while one walks towards me.
“Stop counting. You are not hallucinating, you’re out of your cell for tonight. Your punishment is over, and we can move on from it,” he tells me softly. He sits down beside me, and I recoil, attempting to shift away from him. I’m panting, and my body shakes.
I take a second to look at his face. He’s not wearing the hood anymore. This is the man who bought me. I can’t forget those emerald green eyes. They haunt me in my sleep.
His hair is a dark brown colour, and if it weren’t for the soft lighting in here, I’d think it was black. He has sharp cheekbones and a square jawline with full pink lips, but it’s what extends from them that catches my eye.
On either corner, he has about a 4 inch scar that curves up towards his ear lobes, marking him with a permanent smile. I saw that before in a history textbook. A Glasgow smile, if I remember correctly.
I look down towards the other two men, and they are the exact same as the one sitting beside me. I’m terrified to ask, but I croak out the words after I smack my chapped lips. “Can you see them too?”
He lets out a little laugh. “Yes, they are real. You have three masters. They are my brothers, or should I say wombmates? Triplets.” His words sink in, and I try to process them. I wasn’t crazy. I knew something was going on with his dick.
Their dicks?
Focus!
That’s not important right now.
I shake my head, but that was a bad idea. I’m so nauseous, and my stomach growls with hunger.
He must hear it, cause he looks at my belly. “Master B will go get you something to eat.” As he speaks, the one he called B walks out of the room .
“Tonight is just gonna be a relaxing night. Tomorrow morning you can shower, and in the afternoon we will play a game, understand?”
I can feel the colour leave my face as he says the last sentence. “What game? I don’t want to be locked up again, not alone.” I say in a panic, trying to suck in deep breaths.
In two, three.
Hold two, three.
Out two three.
I chant as I try to calm myself down. The one on the bed reaches out and cards his fingers through my hair. I wince when he grazes a certain spot, though the pain is familiar, and I push into it slightly to ground myself.
“Calm down. If you don’t pull yourself together, I’ll leave you tied up. Don’t you want to move your arms? Be a good pet for us and I’ll untie you.” The man coos like I’m an actual pet that he’s trying to calm.
I look back at him and take a few moments to relax. I do want to move. My limbs hurt, and I don’t know how long I’ve been tied up. “I’ll be good, I promise. I don’t want to be tied up,” I whisper.
He looks at his carbon copy at the foot of the bed and nods. The third man pulls out a straight razor. Before I can panic, he slices the ropes from the foot of the bed and tucks it away. I flex my legs slightly.
They no longer feel like they’re being pulled on, but pins and needles tingle up my calves, and I close my legs to prevent them from seeing my snatch.
I realize I’m still wearing the ankle cuff when he unties the rope from my feet. The quiet one bends down and pulls a chain from under the bed. He locks it to my cuff.
I don’t like being leashed, but at least I’ll be able to move rather than lie here. I doubt I’ll be able to walk around though, I hurt all over.
“Good, you’ll call all of us Master or Sir. Just like we discussed before, but I’m Al and he’s C. B will be back soon. You’ll learn how to tell us apart in time. Now I’m gonna untie your hands, don’t do anything stupid.” Al warns me and stares deep into my soul until I nod.
With the way he’s acting, I feel like this is the man who bought me, the one who fucked my pussy as part 1 of my punishment.
But which one is the one who fucked my ass?
Who has the tattoo?
I’ll figure that out later. They might all look the same, but they act differently. Once my arms are untied, I pull them to my chest and slowly sit up, shifting until my back rests against the headboard.
The one he called B comes back holding a tray. The smell hits me, and my stomach screams, knowing there’s food close by. All I see is a bowl, a bread roll, water bottle and some strawberries on a napkin.
My mouth waters as I track it, and I don’t notice when Al gets off the bed. “I have to go though, and will be back tomorrow for your game. B and C will take care of you and answer one question each.”
He heads towards the door and leaves without looking or saying anything else. B moves towards the bed and sets the tray down. “Made you some soup; it’s very good and won’t hurt your stomach too much.”
I don’t wait, too scared that he’ll take it away and grab the bowl. Immediately, I tip it up to my mouth, and slurp big mouthfuls back, chewing when I need to. I drain half of it before I pull back and take a deep breath.
“Thank you. It’s good,” I whisper. Being careful to watch my words, I don’t want to go back to the cell alone right now, and I need to be on their good side to prevent that.
I know they’ll take me back there, but for tonight I just want to eat and sleep.
I pick up the bun next and take a bite. It tastes fresh, and it’s still slightly warm.
It doesn’t take me long to finish all the food. The soup was delicious, though it had a different flavour, almost the same as the weird sandwich meat, and I can’t figure out what spices he put in it.
C picks up the tray and leaves the room while B sits on the bed, keeping his distance. I look at him for a second, trying to pick up any features that might make him different from his brothers. “Are you the one with the tattoo, or was that not real?”
His lips curl up as he smiles, the scar making him look menacing. “Are you sure that’s the one question you want to ask me? Too late, no take backs. Yes, I’m the one with the tattoo, and your mouth looks beautiful when it’s wide open.” He says with a hint of lust in his voice.
C walks back in, stopping me from saying a snarky remark. He’s holding a cloth and approaches the bed.
He points forward and touches my shoulders, guiding me so I’m leaning forward.
Then he uses the cloth to wash my back down.
They must not have been able to clean it while I was tied down.
I rack my brain for a moment, thinking of what to ask for the third one.
He must be the one who doesn’t speak if Al and B are talking.
“Are you guys going to kill me?” My voice is a low squeak as my eyes move between the two and land on C. His eyes look gentle as he shakes his head. He touches my shoulder again when he’s done, and I lay back down.
B speaks up again cause he’s the fucking chatty one. “Well, we are going to bed now that you’ve been fed and asked your questions.” They both start moving away from the bed.
“No! Please don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone.” My eyes fill up, and I can feel the need to start counting rise up in me.
They look at each other for a minute, almost like they are having a silent conversation. C nods and turns back towards the bed.
“He’ll stay with you, at least until you fall asleep. Night Red, see you tomorrow.” B remarks.
I watch B leave, and anger bubbles up as I realize they keep refusing to use my name. They probably don’t even know my real name. It’s as if I’m not a person to them, and I guess in their eyes I’m not. I’m their pet.
My shoulders slump a bit as I think that over. They just want a whore, an obedient doll. I’ll play nice for now until I gain more information.
Information is key.
I’ll play their games.
Be good and try not to get on their bad side in the meantime, but I will not let them break me down.
The last few days.
Weeks?
However long, was just a moment of weakness.
I’m not weak.
C breaks me out of my thoughts when he comes and sits on the bed. He settles down and puts his hands behind his head, getting comfortable as he hunkers down with me for the night.