Escape From Paradise

Josef was in the corner in a black leather thong, a black studded collar, and matching cuffs around his wrists and ankles. His loose hair look like it’d been lightly gelled to tame it. He gave us a wink and strode from the closet. Was that his whole outfit? Wow.

Perla dug through dressers of stuff until she found a pair of black lace thongs for me and a sheer black negligee that was just loose enough not to hurt my back. I put them on, being careful not to move too fast—I was afraid of one of the welts opening and bleeding. Next, Perla found some black high heels for me. She put her foot up to mine and we had a moment of camaraderie when we found we wore the same size. And just as it had happened with Josef, I experienced a tenderness when I realized I really liked her. In all this mess, I was grateful to have her and Josef—two people who didn’t want to hurt me.

Perla put on a red bustier-styled negligee and red spike heels, then we did our hair. As I wound the fat curling iron around the brown strands of my hair I felt a wave of sad bitterness. Why should I try to make myself look pretty for this asshole?

Then I remembered the belt across my skin.

I would do my hair because Marco wanted me to. My arm suddenly felt too heavy, but I held it up until the last strand was curled.

I didn’t think I could ever have feelings of acceptance about this situation, or be content with my lot the way the others seemed to be. But I could fake it, just to get me through until I was rescued, and then I’d put it all behind me. It couldn’t be too much longer now…





When Luis came to get us, something strange happened. As each slave exited the quarters, they fell to their hands and knees and crawled. When it was my turn I did the same, feeling ridiculous as people stared when we passed. Some of the patrons stepped closer to examine each of us, like trying to decide which lobster to pick from the tank for dinner.

And then there were the humiliating titters regarding the state of my ass. I kept going, making eye contact with no one. I can do this. Keep control.

One good thing happened as we crawled across the house…whatever Josef had given me started to kick in. The stinging and heat on the back of my body seemed to sooth, and the burning against my knees as I crawled eased up. I felt almost buzzed, lightheaded, calmer.

I wished I could thank Josef and tell him that I freaking loved him.

Without fanfare we went our separate ways. I kept my head down, like I’d seen the others do, so I didn’t know where they went or with whom, but Luis stayed by my side and I followed at his feet down a narrow hall until we got to a room.

“Up,” Luis said.

He took me into a beautiful bedroom and my eyes went to the gigantic window as he led me around the four-poster bed. I hadn’t been allowed near any windows since I’d been there. I craned my neck to see the sunset sky and sparkling ocean. I wondered how it smelled out there— the Mediterranean air. Freedom…

“On the bed,” Luis said.

My nostalgia for the outdoors disappeared with a snap as I came back to reality, staring at the high bed. I started breathing harder. Luis nudged me. I crawled up and he climbed up, too, taking my wrists and telling me to lay down on my back. I did as he said, and though it stung and pulsated, I knew it wasn’t half as bad as it would’ve been without that pill.

Luis pulled out a chain attached to the headboard and clamped both of my wrists in it. The door opened and I instinctively brought my knees up. Marco walked in, closing the door behind himself.

Unease curled in my belly. Had there been a change? After having me beaten, did Marco want the honors of screwing me himself? I didn’t know which would be worse, him or Marco. And then I decided Marco would be worse. So far he hadn’t done anything to me himself, and I wanted to keep it that way.

He pulled a hip up onto the bed and looked me over. He touched the edge of my hip where one whelp ended.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, seeming concerned.

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered.

“Yes, Master.”

I paused only briefly, remembering that after I’d been whipped I called him Master on instinct. The memory of how broken I’d been in that room this afternoon humiliated me.

“Yes, Master,” I said quietly.

He ran a hand over my arms, then my legs, speaking to me all the while.

“Your patron tonight is a very important man, Angel. Se?or Feliz is a great supporter of my work and I don’t wish to upset him. He has been told of his limitations with you, and he is being watched. You are safe.”

My eyes darted around the room. The ceilings didn’t have any of those video camera domes. Marco chuckled.

“I wish my patrons to have a sense of privacy, but I must also protect what’s mine. Don’t you worry. Everyone is being watched at all times. Never forget that. Trust me to take care of you.”

Gwendolyn Field's books