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Melanie had planned this for weeks. There was no way in hell her father could ignore her wishes after this stunt. She'd tried to make him listen for months and months, but he'd always dismissed her. He always told her he had better things to do, and that he would hear her out later. When she'd finally gotten a chance to speak her mind, he'd brushed her off. He'd told her there was nothing he could do about it, but she knew that was a lie. He was on the fucking councilβof course, he could make a difference. If he wanted to. The fact that he wasn't even willing to try only pissed her off. These slave auctions were getting out of hand and Melanie wanted to put a stopper to them. In a fantasy world, she wanted to end slavery altogether, but she had to start somewhere. And thisβthis was the perfect place to start.
It hadn't taken a lot of effort to bribe someone to put her name on the auction list, she'd even spent some of her father's money to do it. And when her name was called and she entered the stage, her father would have to shut it down.
Only hedidn't.
She had stood on that stage in nothing but a silky gown while the bidding had gone on and on, surpassing all the previous slaves. What exactly had she expected? It would have been a scam if the only daughter of councilmember James Murphy didn't sell for a hefty price. But did no one stop to think that this wasn't realβthat she wasn't actually a part of the auction? Or were these rich bastards so driven by greed and lust that they didn't care about it? Surely, they must have known that she was notβnor would she ever beβan actual slave. They were wasting their goddamn money.
Whoever won the bidding war wasted a lot of money. More than a lot, really. A fucking fortune by the sound of it. Who in their right mind would even spend so much on a slave in the first place? Yes, maybe she was a high-profile person, but what made her worth more than twice the price of the other slaves? It wasn't like she would do anything different than themβin fact, she wouldn't be doing shit. Because her father would fix this. He had to. There was no way she was becoming a slave. And it wasn't because she was rich and had never broken a law in her entire life, but because she was not cut out for it. She was not meant to serve. No one was meant to serve. And that was exactly why she wanted to stop the auctionβstop slavery. To prevent rich assholes to buy slaves just because they could. Some of them didn't even use them for what they were supposed to do but instead showed them off as if they were a piece of jewelry. Or property. She even knew that some people bought slaves that were solely meant for the bedroom. . . It was infuriating. And to think that her father supported this.
Melanie had been so sure that her father would sort this out as soon as the auction was over, but he never came to collect her. She'd expected him to be furious and that he would drag her out of there. But the only one who dragged her out of there was a man in a black suit. "Stop, please, this is a mistake!" she exclaimed, trying to break free of his grip. "I'm not a slave! Stop!" The guy had stopped so abruptly that she collided with his massive form. He'd grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him, growling that either she shut the fuck up or he'd knock her unconscious. She was quiet after that.
This was not going according to plan. Not even a little bit. Instead of her father coming to her rescue, she'd spent a night on a hard bed in a tiny room, and now she had to convince her new owner that he had wasted a fortune on her. So, when she was dropped at his doorstep like a home-delivery package the following morning, she was determined to convince him that she was not a slave before he had a chance to make her come inside. The men standing on either side of her had made it pretty clear what would happen to her if she tried to run. Otherwise, she'd tried to run a long time ago, even though a part of her knew she couldn't outrun them. But Melanie did not want to end up unconscious. If she was unconscious she wouldn't be able to convince anybody that she was not a slave. And she did not want to take that risk. God knew how she'd wake up. She'd seen some of the collars a few of the slaves wore around their necks and she did not want to end up with one around hers.
Instead of trying to run, she stood perfectly still between two tall men in suits. They'd dressed her in one of their signature luxurious black nightgowns and yet she'd never felt so cheap. She'd seen girls being dropped off wearing them before, but she'd never imagined herself wearing one. Underneath she wore black couture that didn't exactly leave a lot to the imagination. She looked like a perfect slave, but she was anything but. Her new owner was about to find out that he was not her new owner after all.
Sylas Vane Blackthorne strode confidently down the grand spiral staircase of his sprawling gothic mansion to greet his exquisite new acquisition at the front door. When the heavy oak doors swung open, his piercing ice blue eyes locked onto the defiant emerald gaze of the stunning young woman flanked by his men.
A slow, wicked smile spread across his chiseled features as he drank in the sight of her - the way the black silk nightgown clung to her slender curves, the luscious chestnut waves tumbling over her shoulders, that fiery spark in her eyes that promised she would be a challenge to break. And oh, how he relished a challenge.
"Welcome to your new home, pet," he purred, his deep baritone. "I trust you had a pleasant journey?"
In a few swift strides he closed the distance between them. One large hand wrapped around her delicate throat, not squeezing, but establishing his dominance as his thumb stroked over her pulse.
"I purchased you for a king's ransom. You belong to me now, and you will learn your place." He could sense the incredible entitlement she had given who her father was. If anything, the privilege to break the councilmanβs daughter was the only reason why he was willing for fork over such a pretty penny.
His other hand slid possessively over her hip, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his body. "Your father isn't coming to save you, pet. No one is. The sooner you accept that, the easier your new life will be."
He bent his head, lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered, "Secretly, I hope you never stop fighting.β He licked her ear before adding βI am your master now. Your will is no longer your own. You will obey me without question, serve my every desire, and I will reward you withβ¦ hope. Fight me, and you will only bring the most vile conditions possible. Please. I beg you. Fight me you stupid, fucking, cunt."
Abruptly releasing her, Sylas turned on his heel and strode back toward the stairs. He paused, looking back over his shoulder with a smirk.
"Come along, pet. It's time I gave you a proper tour of your new gilded cage. We'll start with my bedchamber, where I intend to acquaint myself thoroughly with every inch of my enticing new slave..."
With that, he ascended the stairs, not even glancing back, supremely confident she would follow, trembling, in his wake. After all, she had nowhere else to go.
Melanie had expected that it was some rich asshole who had bought her, but she hadn't really anticipated that they would be so attractive. She'd seen some of the men on the council with her dad, and they were not exactly pleasing to look at. A few of them weren't even that old. But the man who opened the door could have easily been mistaken for a model, and she caught herself staring. The way that dark navy suit hugged his shoulders was enough to make her blush. Even his beard was flawless. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to convince him to let her go, after all. But that was before her eyes met his. After seeing how he looked at herβlike a predator admiring its preyβshe realized this would be anything but easy. And when he opened his mouth, she knew she was fucked.
She barely had time to take in what he'd just called herβpetβbefore he was all up in her face. Her lips parted as his fingers wrapped around her slender neck and a startled "yes" came out. The journey hadn't been too bad, but now she wished she was back in her cell at the auction house. She blinked up at him, her stomach turning as she took in his words. He knew who she wasβeveryone did. She swallowed hard under the soft pressure of his hand but said nothing. The entire speech she had prepared on the way there was completely useless now. Nothing she said would persuade him to let her go. And a part of her could understand that. If she'd spent so much money on something, she would make sure she got her money's worth. The only difference was that Melanie was not an item you could pick up at the local store. Nor was she a pet, even though he certainly liked to call her that. And perhaps that was what scared her the most. Because if he wanted a pet. . . would he keep her on a leash?
Her body froze the moment he pulled her closer. His body was solid, so massive compared to her fragile frame. He could easily crush her if he tried. She didn't need to feel the muscles underneath the suit to know they were there. "Iβ" Whatever she was planning on saying got stuck in her throat when he bent down closer to her. Her breath caught in her throat and she could feel her pulse increasing for each word he whispered into her ear. Her mind was screaming at her to moveβto fight back, one way or anotherβbut Melanie didn't move a muscle. She stood frozen in place, wide-eyed and terrified. She realized at that moment that she was screwed. So fucking screwed. Whatever she did, she'd be losing. If she obeyed, she'd lose. If she fought him, she'd definitely lose.
And he wanted her to fight. If only he knew how much she wanted to take him up on that offer. She wanted to fight him so fucking bad. Her mind was screaming at her, but her body wouldn't move. When he eventually released her, she was gasping for air. Not because he had choked her, but because she had held her breath for too long.
It took her a few seconds to grasp what was happening. Her gaze landed upon his back as he headed for the stairs inside his home. It was obvious that he wanted her to follow, but for a few more seconds she just stood there. It wasn't until one of the guys on her sides pushed her towards the opening that her legs would move. And as soon as she stepped inside, the door shut behind her. Now she was trapped for real.
She walked across the floor on her semi-thin heels, but she might as well have been a snail. One tiny step after the other, and she barely made any progress to keep up with him. Her mind was racing, her lips opened and closed several times, debating whether or not to say what she wanted to say. He'd made it obvious that he wasn't going to let her go, so it would be useless to try to convince him of that. In order to be free, she'd have to figure out a way to escape. But Melanie knew it wouldn't happen today. So she tried to prepare for whatever he had in store for her. Probably something she wouldn't like. "Look," she finally heard herself say out loud. She stopped dead in her tracks as if she hadn't actually planned to say anything. The last thing she should be doing was trying to get his attention, but she certainly had gotten it now.
"Uhβ" What exactly had she planned to say? She wanted to explain herself or tell him that this was not happening, but it wouldn't make any difference, and she didn't really have a say in the matter, so instead she said, "Why don't we start downstairs?" Her voice was soft, but there was nothing but fear reflecting in her eyes. Melanie might have realized that she would have to play her part as a slave for a few days until things got sorted out or until she found a way to escape this new life she'd brought upon herself. But if he had bought her for his pleasure, she'd prefer to delay the bedroom for as long as possible. Surely, a tour of her new. . . cage, wasn't too much to ask? He'd even offered itβa tour of her new gilded cage. What difference would it make if he showed her the kitchen first?
Sylas paused on the stairs, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest as his pet's timid request reached his ears. He turned slowly, his icy gaze raking over her trembling form with predatory hunger.
"Oh pet," he purred dangerously, descending the steps with feline grace until he towered over her once more. "I'm afraid you misunderstand the nature of our relationship already. I give the orders, and you obey. Without question."
His hand shot out, fisting in her chestnut tresses and wrenching her head back to expose the pale column of her throat. "Since you seem unclear on this very simple dynamic, allow me to enlighten you."
Keeping his bruising grip on her hair, Sylas circled behind her, his free hand sliding around to splay possessively across her taut stomach. "Your exquisite body belongs to me now, to use as I see fit. I will explore and defile every inch of you as I please, whenever and wherever I choose."
He nuzzled into her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent - fear and arousal - was intoxicating. His tongue flicked out to taste her hammering pulse. "I think I'll conduct a thorough inspection of my new acquisition right here and now."
With that, he ripped the flimsy black nightgown from her body in one violent motion, letting the tattered silk flutter to the marble floor. His eyes devoured the sight of her - creamy skin encased in black lace, the swell of her breasts, the pert globes of her ass. Perfection.
Sylas drank in the intoxicating sight of Melanie in her scant black lace lingerie, emerald eyes wide with fear and stubborn defiance. He could practically taste her apprehension, and it only fueled his sadistic hunger.
Circling her like a shark scenting blood in the water, he let his gaze slide lazily over her delectable form. "Mmm, what a pretty picture you make, pet. On your knees where you belong, awaiting my command."
He stopped behind her, one large hand fisting in her silken chestnut tresses and wrenching her head back painfully. Leaning in close, his lips brushed the shell of her ear, voice a low, menacing purr.
"I can see the wheels turning in that clever little head of yours, pet. Plotting your escape, fantasizing about overpowering me." He chuckled darkly. "How adorably naive."
His free hand slid around to cup her breast through the lace, kneading the supple flesh roughly. "Let me make one thing abundantly clear - there is no escape. No one is coming to save the damsel in distress. You are mine now, body and soul."
He pinched her nipple hard through the fabric, twisting viciously until she cried out. "This is your last chance to submit willingly, pet. Obey my every command like a good little slave, and I may grant you the privilege of my gentler attentions."
Releasing her abused nipple. "But continue to defy me, and I will not hesitate to unleash the true depravity of my desires upon you. I will violate and debase you in ways your sheltered little mind cannot even fathom."
He moved his harsh fingers to her other breast only to pinch and twist it through her transparent cup even harder than before, growling in her ear. "Either way, I will have what I paid for. A broken, obedient fucktoy, desperate to please her Master. The choice is yours, pet - submit and be rewarded, or resist and be punished. What will it be, I wonder?"
Every cell in her body screamed at her to run, but all she managed to do while he walked down the stairs again was take a few steps backward. He closed the distance between them within seconds. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of fear. Melanie was well aware of their little arrangement. He was her Master now, and she was his slave. She just hadn't accepted it yet. And a part of her probably never would. She had not planned to become a slave. Putting herself up for auction was supposed to stop the auction, not break a fucking record.
She winced when he pulled her head back, her hands shooting up to grab his wrist. "I knowβ" His palm pressing against her stomach cut her off. Her fingers let go of his wrist in an attempt to pull his other hand away from her stomach. Not that she succeeded. Melanie could not stop this man from touching her no matter how hard she tried. Her fingertips dug into his skin without any luck. She was pressed against him with nowhere to go. He was so closeβtoo close. And the way he breathed in her scent as if she was his next meal. . . "Please, stop," she muttered, thankful he couldn't see her flustered face. She hated how her body reacted to his touch as if it fucking wanted it.
Melanie hadn't expected him to stop, but she hadn't expected him to tear her gown off either. It happened so fast that she barely had time to register what was happening before she stood there in her underwearβif one could even call it that. Utterly exposed and vulnerable. Perhaps also incredibly sexy, depending on who you asked. The bra covered her perky breasts but barely. The thin fabric didn't exactly cover anything. Her lace pantie only covered her most private parts and was only added to complete the look. Her heart was beating like a drum while she tried to cover herself, but her arms only covered so much. She might as well have been naked.
Frozen in place, she let him circle her. Even on the auction stage, she hadn't felt so exposed. Perhaps it was the way he spoke to her that made her so uncomfortable. Her mind was racing. There was no way she was going to kneel. Her eyes darted to the staircase just before he pulled her head back once more. Another whimper slipped past her lips. She tried her best to keep her breathing in check as he lowered his head to whisper in her ear, but she was struggling. Her body was on high alert and there was nothing she wanted more than to escape his clutches. She wanted out.
The moment his hand cupped her breast through the fabric of her flimsy bra, her hands shot up again, trying to pull it away. "I'm notβahh!" A painful cry filled the room as pain erupted from her nipple. "Stop it!" she begged, her nails digging into his forearm. This was not going to end well, she realized that now. Even if she tried to reason with him, he'd already made up his mind. He wanted a pet. The only problem was that she didn't want to be one.
Once again she cried out when he pinched her nipple, twisting it so hard it felt like it would fall off. "Please," she pleaded, her voice trembling. Blinking back tears that were starting to well up in the corner of her eyes, she considered her options, but it wasn't like she had any. She did not doubt for a second that he meant every word he'd said. If she didn't obey, he'd put her through hellβif not worse. And yet there was only one thought that occupied her mind. I have to get out of there. One way or another, she had to find a way out of this mess. If her father wouldn't come to save her, she'd have to save herself. She refused to be a slave for long. And she refused to be someone's pet.
So, the young female sank to her knees, but uttered the words, "I'm not your pet." If he'd wanted a pet, he should have gotten a dog.
Sylas smirked down at his defiant new slave kneeling before him, emerald eyes flashing with stubborn pride even as she obeyed his command. Her muttered words - 'I'm not your pet' - only stoked the sadistic flames of his desire higher.
"Oh, but you are, pet," he purred darkly, circling her kneeling form. "You just haven't accepted it yet. But you will." He stopped behind her, one large hand fisting painfully in her chestnut tresses, forcing her spine to arch. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you. Shattering that entitled willfulness piece by piece until all that remains is a desperate, obedient fucktoy, aching to please her Master."
His free hand slid around her front to cup her breast again, squeezing the supple flesh hard enough to bruise. "Mmm, such a ripe little body. I think I'll sample what I've paid for."
With a sharp tug to her hair, he wrenched her to her feet and spun her to face him. His icy gaze raked over her nearly nude form with blatant hunger before locking onto her wide, fearful eyes.
With a sadistic grin, Sylas grabbed the tattered remains of Melanie's flimsy black nightgown. In one swift motion, he wrenched her arms behind her back and wound the silky fabric tightly around her delicate wrists, binding them securely.
"Time for your tour, pet," he purred darkly, drinking in her apprehension. Before she could protest, Sylas grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Sylas strode purposefully towards a heavy, ornately carved door at the end of the hall. Each powerful step jostled her body against his muscular frame.
Ignoring whatever her shrill protests he anticipated, Sylas produced an old-fashioned iron key and unlocked the foreboding door. It swung open with an ominous creak, revealing a descending stone staircase lit by flickering wall sconces.
"Welcome to your new training ground, pet," he announced with dark glee, carrying his captive prize down into the dungeon depths. "We have so very much to explore together..."
The heavy door slammed shut behind them with a resounding clang, sealing Melanie's fate. In the dank bowels of Sylas's estate, her breaking would now begin in earnest. No matter how much she fought, it was only a matter of time before she shattered beneath his sadistic ministrations, forged anew as his perfect pet.
Sylas carried the struggling Melanie down the winding stone staircase over his broad shoulder, her bound wrists and kicking legs no match for his powerful strength. The dank air grew colder as they descended deeper into the bowels of the mansion, the walls glistening with moisture.
At the bottom of the stairs, the dungeon opened up into a spacious chamber that juxtaposed old-world stone with sleek modern trappings. Intricately carved pillars supported a vaulted ceiling while stark spotlights illuminated an array of purpose-built furniture and implements that promised darkly erotic torments.
In the center stood an imposing steel examination table, complete with gleaming shackles. Along one wall hung a selection of whips, crops, and paddles. Another boasted an assortment of phallic toys in varying sizes. A medieval wooden X-cross and a steel cage suspended from the ceiling completed the menacing tableau.
"Mmm, I have been eagerly awaiting a new pet to break in my collection," Sylas purred as he strode into the chamber. Each heavy footfall reverberated authority, jostling Melanie against his muscular body.
Crossing to the far corner, he stopped beside a small jail cell, the thick bars leaving no illusion of privacy or comfort. A thin pallet and chamber pot were the only furnishings.
Sylas wrenched Melanie off his shoulder, his hands gripping her upper arms hard enough to bruise as he held her before him. Her feet dangled an inch from the floor, emerald eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. He drank in her fear like a rich wine.
"Welcome to your chamber, Pet. You will stay locked in here, unless it pleases me to make use of your... assets." His gaze raked over her near-naked body with blatant hunger.
"In time, if you learn to obey like a good girl, I may allow you to earn certain privileges. A blanket perhaps, or even a proper bed." His baritone turned to a growl and his fingers dug in deeper. "But first, you will be broken. Only once you have fully submitted to your Master will you be allowed comfort." With that, Sylas opened the cell door and tossed Melanie inside onto the unforgiving pallet. A half second later, the heavy cell door clanged shut with a resounding finality as Sylas locked his delectable new slave inside her cramped, barren cage.
Sylas drank in the intoxicating sight of her fear, relishing the way her creamy flesh responded to his dungeon's chill air. He reached through the bars to trail one finger down her flushed cheek in a mockery of tenderness.
"Shhh, pet, save your tears. You'll need them later," he purred darkly. Leaning in closer, his icy eyes bored into hers with sadistic hunger. "I know what you're thinking. That I'll force myself on you. Ravage your tight little body until you scream. Mmm, and I will, in time. But that's not what gets me off."
His hand slid down to wrap around her slender throat, applying just enough pressure to make her pause her breath. "No, my ultimate satisfaction comes from watching you suffer. Seeing the hope drain from your eyes as you realize no one is coming to save you. The despair when you finally understand that your only purpose now is to serve me. Keep fighting, you have no idea how fucking disgusting I am."
Sylas's thumb stroked almost lovingly over her fluttering pulse. "I will push your body to its limits. Mold your mind to crave my dominance. And when you are utterly broken, begging so sweetly to please me, only then will I even think about letting you see my cock. A reward for the perfect, obedient fucktoy you will become. At this rate I might consider using you as a urinal."
Abruptly, he released her and took a step back, drinking in her stricken expression with a wicked grin. "Thank you for this gift, pet. Destroying your entitled willfulness piece by piece will be my greatest pleasure."
With that, Sylas turned slowly and strode toward the dungeon stairs, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. At the base of the steps, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Rest while you can, my hateful slut. Your training begins at dawn. And I have a vast imagination when it comes to delivering erotic torment." His low chuckle raised the hairs on the back of her neck. "Dream of me."
Then he was gone, ascending the stairs and leaving Melanie alone in the oppressive dim room, with nothing but the sound of her own ragged breathing and the horrific promise of the tortures to come.
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