Escape From Paradise

“Look up, beautiful.”


Slowly, warily, I raised my eyes and I nearly vomited. Two chains hung from the ceiling. In the chains was Josef. His arms were spread and he stood on the balls of his feet with his calf muscles flexed. Naked.

My eyes shot to Marco and he petted my head.

“Don’t worry, Angel. You will feel no pain.”

My head whipped back to Josef, his back to me, his head hanging, his muscles tensed. Yes, I would. I would feel pain, and Marco knew it.

“What do you think?” Marco asked me. “Ten lashes for every orgasm the two of you had? Forty total?”

“No, Master, please! I’m sorry!” I threw myself on his feet now, pressing my cheeks to his shoes, hugging around his ankles.

Luis pulled me off him and forced me back on my heels.

With a nod of his head, the giant, nameless man who I thought of as Brutus, stepped forward. The man who whipped me. The man who people only spoke to in nods. A big, scary, hairy bastard. He held a thin, leather riding crop in his hand, and with a whizzing sound he whacked Josef across the middle of his back with it. Josef hissed through his teeth and clenched his fists. I covered my mouth to hold back pleas to make it stop. I tried looking away, but Luis pushed my face back up to the horrid spectacle.

With each lash Josef’s resolve weakened and his pain-filled noises grew louder. Red markings began to show, vivid across his smooth brown skin. Moisture filled my eyes, but didn’t fall. The worst moment was when someone murmured “twenty” and I realized we were only half-way through. It felt like he’d been hit a hundred times already.

I wanted it to end more than I’d wanted my own whipping to end six months ago. This was all my fault. This is what my stubbornness had caused. Josef’s knees gave out after the thirtieth hit and his holler was so sad, like a young boy. Brutus kept going, cracking Josef across the shoulder blades with a sickening sound.

I dry heaved into my hand, swallowing back down the small amount of burning bile that came up.

At forty strikes Marco whispered, “Done.” And I swear, he sounded tired. He’d stood there with his hands behind his back the whole time, watching with that sad disappointment. It dawned on me that he didn’t want us to have to be punished, but he had to keep order. The rules and punishments were meant to keep the hierarchy of his establishment running smoothly. I’d tried to derail his hierarchy, and had been fighting against it all along, and for what? It hadn’t helped me get rescued. It had only cause me and my friend pain.

Marco went to Josef’s side. “Do you wish to fuck the girl now?”

Josef could barely respond. “N-no, Amo.”

“Bring him to the clinic and have the nurse care for him,” Marco said to Brutus. “No pain medication.”

Brutus nodded and uncuffed Josef, who fell in a panting heap, his face sweating and pinched. Sweet Josef. My heart broke, and I wondered if he’d ever be able to forgive me. Brutus half-carried him from the room.

I watched Marco’s feet.

“Do you think I spoil you, Angel?” he asked gently.

I answered him with truth, speaking to him in Spanish just as he spoke to me. “Yes, Master. And I appreciate it. I’m so sorry. I will not disobey you again.”

“Hm. You have not eaten today. Are you hungry? Remember, I require the truth from you in all things.”

The last thing I wanted now was food, but my stomach gnawed with emptiness, despite the churning I still felt. “Yes, Master. I am hungry.”

Marco gave a small nod to Luis. “Feed the girl,” he told him.

Luis came and stood in front of me. I was thoroughly confused when he began unbuttoning his pants. And then I was presented with my “meal.”

Holy. Shit.

Part of the hierarchy at the villa was that slaves were prized gifts for the patrons. Being made to pleasure one of Marco’s men was demeaning. I batted away my pride and went up on my knees, taking Luis’s cock in my hand first then my mouth. He grasped the back of my head and pulled me forward, being rough, probably because of how much I’d teased him over the months. Definitely wouldn’t be doing that anymore.

When he spurted into the back of my throat, I swallowed, trying not to gag.

I kneeled again, waiting.

“Still hungry?” Marco asked.

“No, Master.” And it was true. I wondered if I’d ever have an appetite again.

He was quiet a long time, and fear filled me, zinging around like a damned pinball. I had a feeling Marco still wanted to drive home a point with me.

His next words proved as much.

“Your anal virginity is highly prized, yes?”

Oh, dear God.

“Yes, Master,” I whispered, voice shaking. I closed my eyes.

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