Page 88 of Volatile Waters

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Raw Survival

Mind manipulation is an art form I had absorbed from the very best. Who more appropriate to learn from than people who can trick a person into selling their body? The whores on the streets can testify to such deceit. Not many grow up aspiring to believe someone cares to be raped or tortured, but we captured them every day.

Fear? One of the most powerful manipulations one can generate; hence, why Fire was already vowing to give her body to me. She was terrified of what would happen to Link if she didn’t. To solidify that control tactic, I purposely had Fire overhear a conversation as I directed her to the shower room.

Fire’s feet had stumbled to a stop as she watched an interaction in a holding cell: a recruiter with his delivery. The girl, still in her drugged haze, was asking the normal questions. “Where are we? How did I get here?” Her American accent resounded loud enough for Fire to hear.

The recruiter, probably anxious to get home to his wife and kids, was beyond irritated due to the long enlist and trip home. “Shelly, shut the fuck up! Damn.”

Because she was very accustomed to him removing her clothing to ‘make love’ to her, the American was stupefied at his present attitude. There was no romance behind his touches this time, only purpose; to get his pay and go home.

As planned, I shoved Fire forward so we could head further down the hall toward Kirill and Adrian, already robed and ready. Her body tensed. I think she recognized them from her hotel room. Kirill and Adrian had been surprised that she didn’t recognize them from her home, but I wasn’t. Fire had had her sights honed in on Crash the whole time.

In the hallway, Adrian teased, “Good evening, Seafoam’s spawn.”

Her little bare feet had her halting and going in the opposite direction. Not daring to remove them from her sight, she backed away until she ran into my chest.

Anger charred me to a crisp when she immediately leaped forward so that I couldn’t touch her either. I grabbed her shoulder and forced her against me. “They are not here for you, Fire.”

To keep our charade in full swing, Kirill stomped his foot toward Fire as if about to attack her. Looming over Fire, I pretended to appear protective to instill who she should start trusting.

As soon as she melted back into me, very willing to accept my offer to keep her safe from the men in black robes, Kirill chuckled. Our strategy had worked, as always. “Easy, young one. Just playing the game.”

From over Fire’s head, I smiled, knowing she believed Kirill was talking to me.

Adrian entered the filming room while Kirill waited for the recruiter and his abductee. Shelly came up from behind Fire and me, but once next to us, she asked Fire, “Do you know what’s happening? I-I don’t understand what’s going on.”

From over her head, I watched Fire’s sight race to Adrian standing by the mattress in the room. Fire stepped back into my chest, shaking her head no to Shelly. Was she telling Shelly she didn’t know? Or was Fire already figuring it out and shaking her head no to me, silently begging for me not to allow this to happen? Either way, her little back against my stomach had my eyes almost shutting with satisfaction. Fire was already acting accordingly, and her dancer body was touching mine, causing havoc to my groin.

It entranced me to the point that I had a difficult time staying focused—keeping to the plan. Adrian, and now Kirill, were in the room beginning to rape Shelly. I had to push my own desires for Fire aside and hold her chin, forcing her to watch. But, when her little hand nervously gripped at my pant leg, and she whispered, “Please… Master,” I gave in and moved us toward the shower room again.

The shower room consisted of three stalls with no walls or privacy. There were no candles or scented oils. We kept the room as unemotional as we were. Fire stumbled into the next concrete room she would become accustomed to. All the slaves did, eventually.

My voice rumbled against the block walls. “Put your clothes and shoes in the garbage can.” I was so hungry for this point in her introduction.

She had still been examining her surroundings but was now gaping at me with a horrific look I truly appreciated. “Wh-what will I wear?”

“Nothing.” I tightened my jaw, trying to hide my eagerness.

“Ever?”

“I warned you about people overhearing our conversations.” Was it fair for me to charge, then smack her so hard with my open palm that Fire fell to the ground? She appeared horrified. No. But I did it.

The poor girl held up her hand as I swung my shoe back to kick her. She begged, “Hours. I’ve only been here hours. Please, give me time to learn your rules.”

Blood dripping from her lip onto the grey tile had me thinking of my father while holding my own lip. He had struck me over and over to fuck the mother of the young woman I just hit. It was an eerie moment that made me truly pause and reconsider who I was and what I was becoming. I didn’t want to be my father, as much as Crash didn’t want to be like me.

Fire was now standing in front of me, so close that it felt as if we blended on another level. We both stood there, silent. Me holding my old scar, she holding her new.

Back in the hallway, I had allowed Fire one tiny washcloth, but I wouldn’t allow her to cover her now naked self with it. She was to experience what every other slave did: humiliation. Any employees lurking knew the routine; if present, make lewd comments to the naked newcomers.

That wasn’t the only lesson for the day. We had Fire stand at a doorway to witness what was left of Shelly. It was meant to cement the lesson of ‘behave or be fed to the hungry rapist,’ but the lesson fell apart on me.

I watched as Fire quietly left my side, and without permission, went to the traumatized girl draped on the mattress. Fire had a bravery about her that couldn’t be taught or bought. It was simply a part of her spirit. I can’t be sure if Kirill and Adrian also fell quiet, or if I was the only one that was mystified watching Fire kneel next to the raped girl. She exuded such tenderness I couldn’t look away. She took her only protection—a tiny washcloth—and used it to wipe Shelly’s tears and the cum off her breasts. It was then that I first started to truly understand that fear wasn’t the reason behind Fire’s choices. It was compassion and kindheartedness—something I knew nothing about.

Crash was indeed knowledgeable when it came to this rare treasure. He had said Fire’s heart was limitless. For the next couple of months, I was going to put his theory to the test. I began by letting Kirill and Adrian harass her, to the point that Fire was willing to do anything to get a lock on her door, one to which only I had a key. The price? Link’s necklace. Fire appeared physically ill as she handed over the gift, in trade for a collar of red rhinestones. But, once again, I had truly not given her a choice.