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Bought and Paid For

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Waking up from the drug Istvan Belko had used on Jessica was an experience like no other. Her brain woke before her body, a dangerous side affect for some of the more unfortunate slaves, or masters depending on what position one looked at it. Many would panic and their breathing would be affected. It was not unheard of that they would suffocate. Some even had heart attacks due not only to the fear, but the drug itself. Jessica was luckily not one of these people, but the experience was none the less horrific. Her head felt like it was far too large for her body, there was a terrible throbbing behind her eyes, and her nose was stuffed up. Her stomach twisted, and cramped, and on top of that she was overcome with nausea. She was on her side, but she wanted to roll over further in case she threw up, but she could not move any of the muscles in her body.

She tried to cry out but it only came out as a pathetic moan. She felt her eyes fill with tears as she fought off the pain and nausea. But the confusion was what made it all that much worse. She did not know where she was or how she got there. The last thing she really remembered was going to sleep in the Hostel in Budapest. After that there was nothing. But she knew that where ever she was it was a place she did not want to be. So on top of the pain, the nausea, and the confusion, there was dread. It rooted in her cramped stomach and spread throughout her limbs, causing her immobile body to tremble from within.

When the ability to move returned to her she felt the zip ties digging into her wrists and ankles and she whimpered. Weakly she yanked at them but her muscles were still too weak. She cried out, hardly able to form the word ‘help’ and hardly able to raise her voice to a shout. She hardly recognized her own voice when she finally was able to call out. It was low, scratchy, and slurred. It was a pitiful sound. Had she been thinking clearly she might have known that the only one likely to hear her was the one that did this to her, but all she knew was she needed someone to help her make the pain stop, ease her quivering stomach, and cut the zip ties that were gnawing at her soft flesh.

Her head lolled from side to side when she heard the door open. She could not hold her head up and when she tried to sit up straight her body fell back to the pillows. She heard a deep, soft and masculine chuckle from the other side of the room and her breath hitched, fear consuming her. She did not have enough control of her mental faculties to realize it was hopeless, but she tried to crawl away from the laugh, her hands and knees stumbling over the many pillows underneath her. She felt the bed she was on sink underneath her as another weight was added and she knew without looking that he had sat or stepped onto the bed.

“Where are you going to run to, little slave?” his voice met her ears from above as she reached the end of the bed and she hesitated. She did not know she was on the ground, and so she reached her hand out, looking for a bed post to grab onto to help lower herself down to the floor. He knelt down beside her and grabbed her by the face, his thumb and forefinger curved under her chin, the rest of his fingers pressed against her cheek. She tried to squirm away but his grip was too strong and her too weak. She tried to press her bound fists against his chest but her attempts were pathetic. He laughed again and she felt sick. This was what her parents had warned her about when she decided to backpack around Europe on her own. She was going to be raped and murdered by some sick freak and she had no way of fighting him.

“Please,” she whimpered when she felt his other hand go to her hip.            

“You beg so pretty,” he answered. Her head almost fell to the side, too heavy to hold up on her own, but he held her face up with a large, strong hand. “Say it again. Beg me to let you go… In German this time.”

“Let… let me go… please… I… please…”  She breathed, using what German words she could retrieve. At the current time only English seemed to be working in her brain. “Lass… mich…”

“No,” he said and she tried to hit him. He easily swung his head out of the way and she was pushed backwards. She simply fell back onto the bed with no resistance, her body still weak. She lay back, trying to get her strength back and opened her eyes. She was able to keep them open for a longer amount of time with each passing minute and she tried to get her a look at her captor. Her eyes landed on his back as he crossed the room, before fluttering closed again. She took a few deep breaths and then opened her eyes again. When she did he was right in front of her, leaning over her feet. He cut through the zip ties on her ankles and yanked her legs apart. She tried to press her knees together but she was not strong enough.                                

“Pretty pussy,” he taunted. She tried to kick but her legs were far too slow. She began to weep softly and she felt him hover over her. His mouth hovered over hers and she tried to move her face away from him but he wouldn’t let her. He shushed her and she felt his fingers wiping some tears from her cheeks.

“You’re my slave now,” he told her in German. She shook her head.

“No,” she cried, screwing her eyes shut. Everything was spinning and it felt like she was floating. She thought if she opened her eyes she was going to throw up.     

“I own you,” he told her away, his fingers trailing down her wet cheeks.

“No,” she wept, shaking her head and back forth.

“Shh,” he said softly and she felt his tongue, hot and wet, slide up her cheek, tasting her salty tears. “Your body belongs to me now.”

“Bitte, lass mich los,” she begged. She tried to open her eyes to see her tormentor, but her eyes were clouded with tears. She missed the cruel curve of his lips as he listened to her.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he told her and she tried to squirm away. He held her down with little work, his fingers slipping between her legs and playing with her pussy. “And you are going to tell me how much you like it.”

A long, slender finger slid inside of her, pumping her dry, tight flesh up to the knuckle. She spasmed around his finger and his thumb stroked her clit hard, causing an automatic shiver run through her. She tried to push at him but he grabbed both her wrists in his, keeping her still. When she tried to kick at him she realized he was sitting on her legs at the knee, keeping her from bucking him off. Every time she tried to buck her hips her knees cried in protest at the restriction of movement and she was forced to stop.

“Does it feel good?” he bit out between grinding teeth, pumping his finger in and out of her at a rapid pace. The way his thumb rubbed at her clit made her body react against her own volition.  She bit on her bottom lip hard, confused between the pain and pleasure but she managed to shake her head no.

“No?” he asked and his pace quickened as he worked his finger in her. Another was added and she cried out.  “You’ll like it. I’ll make you like it.”

She cried out when he removed his fingers and retrieved rope from beneath the pillow bed. He tied her wrists together and then attached it over her head, hooking her to something behind her so she could not move her arms. When he moved off of her she nearly placed a solid kick to his face. He was able to push her foot to the side and force her legs wide apart. He lowered himself down between her legs, kissing the inside of her thigh, nipping the soft skin as he made his way upward. She tried to kick but she was too weak and he was too strong.

His tongue licked her, sucking her into his mouth and then nipping at her gently. She jumped, gasped, and bucked, never before feeling so violated. She strained against her bound wrists and he played with her clit, licking and sucking it into his mouth. She could feel herself growing wet and tears came to her eyes. She had never been so ashamed of herself in her entire life. To act like a whore with a man who was about to rape her. She hated herself so much in that moment that she almost stopped fighting. But when she felt his teeth on the inside of her thigh and he nipped a little too hard she kicked out. He lost his grip on her ankle for only a moment, but it was enough to get a good kick to his right side. He got her leg again with a German curse and lowered himself back to her hot core.  

“Yes, so wet,” he breathed against her. He let go of a leg and pushed his finger inside of her again. “Tell me you like it. Tell me you like it.”

“No,” she panted and yelped when he slapped her, his finger leaving her pussy and slapping down on her clit hard.

“Tell me you like it.”

“No,” she breathed and he slapped her again.

“Do not lie to me or I will make you scream,” he told her. She felt tears leak from her eyes and her lower lip trembled. She cried, her shoulder shaking, and told him what he wanted to hear.

“I like it,” she whimpered. His thumb stroked her clit again.

“Call me Master,” he said and she shook her head. She would not do that. She could not. No matter what. But he slapped her again, and again, and again, until she was crying in earnest.

“Master!” she cried out. “You’re my master!”

“Tell me I’m the master of your body and soul,” he said, rubbing her clit. This time he only gave her a small  moment of hesitation before he pinched her clit hard, causing a cry to leave her throat.

“You’re…  the master of my.. my… body and soul…” she cried and he pushed two fingers inside of her again. He sat back up after a moment, looking down at her with hot eyes. He positioned himself between his legs, picked up her hips to better position himself.                             

When he slid off his belt she used all the energy she possessed in an attempt to squirm away. She rolled onto her stomach and tried to crawl back to the edge of the bed, regardless of the ropes around her wrists that was attached to a concrete floor. She could see now they were on the ground and it made her try even harder to squirm away. He let her get a few feet away before he grabbed onto her ankle and yanked her toward him violently. Her arms pulled when the ropes tightened and she cried out again in pain.

 She slid on the pillows toward him, yelping in terror. She continued to struggle and almost got away again, as far as the ropes would let her, when he took the ends of the belt in his hand and looped her around the neck with it, keeping her from moving. He fisted the two ends in one hand and reached into his trousers. He was throbbing with need, and the ease in which he was able to overcome her sent power surging through his veins. He yanked on the belt and she arched backward trying to get away from the biting leather. The fear of strangulation and suffocation had stopped her in her tracks. The belt was wrapped around her neck tightly, but not enough to cut off oxygen, but she did not know if he would strangle her, if he would anyway once he had raped her. She had no way of knowing how much money he spent on her.                                  

“Good girl,” he cooed as she stopped fighting.

“Please don’t,” she begged, tears dripping over her flushed cheeks. “Please, stop.”

She felt him at her entrance and trembled. She was trying to support herself on her bound wrists but her arms ached. She felt him lean over her body, his grip still tight on the belt, and push the head of his cock into her wet virgin pussy. The pain started almost immediately and she began crying again in earnest.

“Be a good girl and tell me you like it,” he told her as he slid into her, slick, hot and tight. She shook her head. He arched his hips, pushing himself a few more centimeters inside of her and the belt tightened around her neck.

“Tell me you like it,” he bit out.

“I… I like it,” she whimpered.

“Hmmm,” he said pressing his nose to her temple and inhaling deeply. His lips pressed to her cheek in a sloppy kiss, his warm breath smelling of mint, his lips soft and warm. He smelled good, like expensive cologne. His face had not been shaved in perhaps a day and she could feel the hard stubble from his jaw against her cheek, irritating her smooth skin.

She felt the invading appendage leave her body and she was flipped over. She looked up at him, her vision clearer than it had been. He had a cruel smile, cold blue eyes, and thick dark hair. She might have thought he was handsome had she been in a different situation. She lay there for a few seconds, but the moment he made a move for her again she tried to run. Her energy by this point was beginning to return and she had to keep fighting, she had to get away. She had no idea what he was going to do after he raped her.

“I was going to be gentle with you,” he said when he grabbed onto her. She had not even gotten off the pillow bed before he caught her. “Stupid bitch. All you had to do was obey me.”

“Please don’t. My… my name is Jessica. I’m from America and I’m twenty three. I… like to read, I have a degree in history and German… I…” she struggled to find things about herself to tell him. She had heard on a murder show on ID once that a woman had been left alive by a serial rapist and murderer by humanizing herself to him. Maybe if this man saw her as a human he would not kill her.

“I don’t care,” he said and positioned himself at her entrance. “Not right now.”

She pulled at her the ropes around her wrists again.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she nearly whispered.

“Shh,” he whispered and pushed himself inside of her. She cried out at the invasion, weeping. He lowered his mouth to her face, breathing in her scent as he raped her, thrusting into hard. Her only relief was that her body had responded to his earlier ministrations. She tried to bite him when he kissed her mouth, but when he caught his lip between her teeth he only laughed, slapping her on the face. It was not a particularly hard slap, but it stung.

“Feisty,” he smiled. He lowered his face back down and kissed her jaw, nipping the skin. His mouth went to her neck, nipping, kissing and licking as he went. She gasped when he bit down hard on her shoulder. The pain was terrible and made the pain between her legs disappear for a moment. “We can both bite.”

“No, please, don’t,” she cried. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, his hips moving hard. He held himself up over her on his elbows, panting and sweating slightly.

“Master?” she breathed out and he smiled. He looked even more terrible smiling than he did when he was angry.

“So sweet,” he cooed. “So sweet, and innocent.”

He sat up and grabbed her waist in a bruising grip, thrusting into her as hard as she could. The pain on her shoulder hurt where he had bitten her and now the pain returned to her pelvic region. She cried softly when he finally climaxed inside of her with a grunt and a groan. He wiped his forehead when he finished, sweeping his thick dark hair away from his face. He leaned down at kissed her forehead, shushing her as she continued to cry.

“Say thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Say thank you.”

“Thank you,” she croaked, her voice breaking.

“You are sweeter than I could have imagined,” he told her, his voice dripping with an accent she once found so charming and attractive. Now she could only trembled at it, find fear it. Tears leaked through her eyes. “I will be good to you, little slave, if you are good to me. Understand?”

She nodded but kept her eyes closed. She felt his lips press to her ear lobe, and he inhaled the smell of her hair again.

“Go back to sleep,” he told her. Despite having been unconscious for close to three days she was exhausted and her body ached. She wanted to disappear into oblivion and she was thankful for the chance to sleep. “You’ll need your energy when you wake.”

She fell asleep and nightmares plagued her dreams.