Chapter 3.

Lucy.

Saturday, 6th February. Two days later.

Evening.

I sit in front of a mirror in the room, all dressed up. A rhinestone encrusted kitten mask on my face. Hair pulled into a high bun on my head. Skin, silver dress, and diamond jewelries all glowing under the soft light at the slightest movement from me.

I inhale shakily as I suddenly start feeling nervous. My body begins to suffer those withdrawal symptoms from the orgasm inducing drugs I used to take at the brothel. Ugly memories try to visit me. But I banish them and choose to focus on now. This rediscovered me. This me that chose to stay here with Chase, because I feared what lay behind these walls in store for me. Because a part of me was thrilled by the idea of being possessed by someone like Chase.

The night he first took me rushes into my mind.

The way he looked as soon as he opened my eyes. Handsome.

Strikingly handsome.

Tall. Muscles built in every corner of him. Eyes dark. Shaped like beautiful almonds.

And his lips.

Oh, his lips, when he talked, I could only think of how those lips felt against my skin. And then the morning after, when he fucked me again. When he filled me and made me climax so heavily. Again, no use of drugs. And afterward, when I confronted him.

When he gave me those papers to read.

I recall everything like yesterday. The words in those papers. A cult, the Olia cult, wanted me for my reproductive organs. My womb, ovaries. The whole lot.

I read it in those papers.

“Subject: Lucy Roshid (Salt)

Payment status: Paid.

Occupation: Sex worker at Davenport…

Mode of collection: Womb and ovaries to be cut out while heart is still beating…”

Those words chilled me to the bone.

I was to be cut down like a fucking animal.

“Why… how did you get this? What do I do now?” I stammered, rising to my feet.

Chase stepped out of the bathroom, naked.

Hot. His cock, aggressively there.

He fixed a hard gaze at me.

“You either stay and let me protect you. Or you walk out of the door and have the men find you.”

No sugar coating it. Nothing.

He let me make the choice.

“But why fuck me, even though you were saving me? Is that your way of collecting your payment from me?” I asked fiercely.

Tears blurred my vision just before he turned around to walk away.

He didn’t even turn back as he spoke.

“To claim you as mine.” I gasped. “Anyone who touches you will be killed.”

And now I’m here, dressed in his money, preparing to attend a gala with him tonight. Some dinner party. As if this attire, this party we're attending, can stem the threat from the dreaded cult hanging over my head. I swallow.

The door opens.

Chase walks inside, dressed in a coal black suit. Bow tie. Shoulder length blondish black locks held behind him in a ponytail. His beautiful facial hair, beards and all, perfectly trimmed.

“You’re not masked?” I ask through his reflection in the mirror.

He steps inside.

Locks the door.

I startle. Whip around to face him as he approaches. My heart beating fast.

Why is the door locked?

His phone rings in his pocket, but he ignores it.

“And you’re clean.” He mutters quietly as he stops in front of me.

He kneels until we’re eye to eye. I shift in the seat, stare at him. Confused by his sentence. He pulls out a piece of paper and waves it between us. I take it.

The lab results from two days ago. He took me to a high tech diagnostic center to test me for STDs and stuff.

I lift my eyes from the paper just as he slowly parts my legs. I struggle to close them, but he doesn't let go. Holding my gaze, as he successfully parts my legs. The air suddenly drifting between them.

He slowly rubs my bare thighs. His hands not hurried. Just controlled. Possessing. He reaches inside my thong and smirks.

“Kitten is already wet for me?” It’s not a question.

But I answer, defiantly. "My name isn't Kitten...And I'm not wet..."

He smirks, cruelly. "Defiant, are we?" He circles at my entrance and I reluctantly roll my head back. Just as he softly parts my folds.

He inhales.

“Mmm… that’s your arousal. It’s beautiful.”

I try to push this back. This need. This thrill.

He leans closer, kisses my lips deeply, while he slowly enters my pussy. Increasing those slow and painful strokes inside me.

Why does he have to claim me to save me from the cult?

Is he saving me or just claiming me before they take me?

My mind keeps scraping back and forth. Between the need building inside me. And my dread for the cult and Chase.

“Open your eyes for me, Kitten. I want to watch you as you come undone for me.” He orders quietly.

I gasp at those words, moaning deeply for him. My hips rocking against his deft fingers.

I rock myself against the stool, feeling so exposed as Chase watches me.

But he doesn’t mind.

He leans closer and pushes my straps down until my torso is exposed. Then he proceeds to feast on my twin mounds.

“Ahh… Chase,” I gasp loudly. He trails kisses down, until he's between my thighs.

“Raise your feet on my shoulders, Kitten. I want to suck you now.” He orders darkly.

I look at him, unconvinced. He’s so dressed, and yet he wants me to ruin his suit with my feet.

“I can get another suit, just as I ordered you an entire wardrobe two days ago, Kitten. So do as I say. Remember. Obey.” He warns.

I nod, remembering the only rule he said to me the morning after I was brought here.

“Always obey me, so I can save you.”

So now, I obey. Because I want to be saved. I don't want the cult to get me. To kill me. To harvest my organs.

I raise my feet, careful not to ruin his suit. But he steadies my legs and spreads me wider, licking me. Shock tears through me, because no man has ever done this before with me.

Until I started working at Davenport, I had been a twenty year old dentist assistant, with only my dildo as my source of sexual pleasure and companionship. I didn’t want any pregnancy. I wanted to focus on getting a career. I didn’t want men, cause of what I had suffered.

Then something awful changed my world.

Something that Chase is currently making me forget.

“Chase!” I scream as I unravel.

He stays me. And that is torture, because keeping still can’t quench the fire in me.

I feel my walls unlock as I orgasm. My body shuddering for him. My head falls back, my breaths ragged.

Slowly, he straightens and licks his mouth, watching me deeply as he does so. A smirk plays on his lips.

“Now we are ready to go out to the party.”

I stare at him, my eyes drifting to the hard tent infront of his pants.

“But you’re hard.” I mutter shyly.

I’m not shy since I started working with men. Sure, the first time a man really fucked me and not my trusted dildo, I had felt so used. So filthy. So shy. And that was when Davenport introduced the drugs into my system.

A pill before every fuck. But with Chase, I'm shy.

“When we fuck, Kitten, shadows from your past should stay behind your eyes.” Chase’s voice drags me from that familiar darkness now.

I stare, amazed at how he knew my past had visited me just now.

“How did you know?” I ask as he rises to his feet and rights his cock in his pants.

He grins.

“Because your face when I fuck you is unforgettable.”

He turns around, heads for the door. He reaches the door, then stops.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Once. Twice.

I watch his face change, not much, just a subtle tightening of his jaw as he pulls it out and brings it up to his face. Something cold flickers in his eyes, as he reads something on his screen.

Silence stretches.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice small despite myself.

Chase turns to me slowly. His gaze locks onto mine through the mirror. Possessive. Lethal.

“Remember what I said about obeying me?" He asks.

I nod, as he comes back, grips my chin, gently. Tilting my eyes up to his.

“Now,” he says quietly, “You don’t leave my side. Not even for a second.”

My pulse roars in my ears.

“And if I do?” I ask.

His thumb presses into my jaw.

“Then tonight,” he says, “You don’t make it home.”