"Okay, let's go. There still will be time for this." Grave said, slowly removing the hand of Mr. X from my hair and my ass and slapping his broad shoulders hard. "Because a real party will start now, won't it?" He winked conspiratorially. "Mignon, unchain Miss Fire. We're not some kind of medieval barbarians!" he called someone with a chuckle, leaving the room with Mr. X.
Soon a solid bouncer of about two meters, who really looked like a character of the eponymous cartoon "Mignons", entered the detention cell. He was pop-eyed, bald and staut, but also very strong, judging by the biceps on his hands and legs. He had been studying me with his eyes for some time, and then in a moment he lifted me from the floor. He quickly unfastened my fetters, freeing my hands from that torture. I slightly rubbed my numb wrists, which had been staying in one position for long, and groaned in relief. Finally, the blood ran freely through my veins, and I felt a surge of strength. As if I saw again the sense of fighting for my honor.
I immediately covered my intimate parts with my cold hands when the giant looked at me, slightly tilting the head to one side.
"Fille, ce n'est pas nécessaire de les mettre en colère. Écoutez et ils vous lâcheront,"* that clumsy giant muttered slowly in French, handing a burgundy bathrobe with slits on the sides to me. He was standing in silence for long, looking at how I was dressing myself. He apparently didn't want to talk to me in English.
And then I suddenly realized. How did he know that I understood French pretty well? I was shocked and a little embarrassed by that fact.
Did Kyle send him to save me? I couldn't believe it!
"Thanks, but I don't need your advice." I raised my head proudly, wrapping a warm bathrobe around and walking past him. "I want to get out of here."
"Idiote! Pense seulement avec ta tête. Les émotionsvont seulement t'arrêter."**
"Once again, thank you for the important reminder." I hissed through the clenched teeth, emphasizing the last words and catching myself at the fact that I was talking to him so calmly.
Why do I trust that stiff more than others?
I guessed I was just going crazy. And I had to immediately clean my brain until I certainly didn't become loony.
"Come on, they cannot wait," he said to me in English, and I looked at him with amazement. "I can speak your language. Don't be surprised."
"What else can you do? Breach the walls?" I made fun of him, at the same time scolding myself for that.
After all, he didn't do anything bad. Till now.
"I can do anything, but it's none of your business, lady," he whispered, pushing me toward the door. "Go. Otherwise, you will feel bad not only cause of their lashes...."
Having heard another phrase about the lash, I felt faint. I swayed slightly again, but Mignon immediately grabbed me by the elbow, saving me from falling. Apparently being afraid of his masters, he led me along the dark corridor directly to the great hall.
When I went inside, the hall immediately wrapped me in the atmosphere of wealth, excessive luxury and debauchery. There were paintings hanging on the walls around the whole perimeter of the rectangular hall, making it look like a showroom. All paintings were erotic, depicting various kinds of fetishism or BDSM. All of them were decorated with gilded frames made from yellow or white gold, along the edges of which one could notice small oval jewels: rubies, topazes, amethysts, aventurines, emeralds, aquamarines and jacinths sparkling in the white light of huge crystal chandelier.
I suddenly recalled that my cousin Christian often brought me different talismans made from white gold for Christmas. It was his favorite gift in order to somehow brighten up my loneliness. Oh... How long ago it was!
Because of the overload with emotions my tired eyes welled up with tears, but I kept them not to seem to be weak and hopeless. I had to be a fighter and even a cunning negotiator.
Continuing to study the furniture, I noticed that a few wooden chairs upholstered in silver or gold brocade were placed in the corners of the room. (I immediately thought how much money were blown off on that hall, and, probably, the guests and the owner liked it. Otherwise, what for all that chic?) Huge black piano and other musical instruments like tom-toms, harp and violoncello were standing in the far right corner of the hall. Not far from me I saw a small settee, which was also upholstered in brocade as well as the chairs, and where different kinds of whips and belts were lying.
My glance was wandering restlessly over all that madness until it froze on a velvet burgundy chair in which Kyle was sitting. His hands were tensely pressed in the arms of the chair, and he looked completely broken.
My heart bled for him. He didn't even look at me as if admitting that he ceased to fight with those bastards.
Maybe Kyle was still under the influence of drugs? Or maybe he knew what was waiting for me there.
I mentally wept with my powerlessness, because nothing could be done. I wanted to come closer to him, to shake him, to say that everything was well, and we shouldn't give up... But then rough hands of Mr. X stopped me, and I cried because his nasty thin fingers painfully tightened on my delicate skin. He tore my robe with his one hand and threw it aside away from his eyes. Mr. Grave only clapped his hands to his successful show, like a satisfied spectator and at the same time a critic, who knew how shitty Kyle Jamieson felt that day. However, as well as I did.
Burning with shame, I was standing naked in the middle of a huge room, unable to resist the grip of the dark lord Mr. X. One of his hands held me by the waist, and another one brazenly wandered over my breast and neck, showing Kyle how much he lost. He had no right to do anything without their permission and knowledge. He should become more obedient.
I felt that Kyle was boiling with anger, but I prayed to God with every fiber of my soul that Kyle didn't make an incautious step. I didn't want to see that he could be hurt. I couldn't stand up this.
Sometime after that, having looked at me at last, Kyle suddenly froze. He made a wry face, apparently knowing what they were doing to me. He could only watch them humiliating me and "having" my dignity. Although he could get up and kick their asses but then he would be chucked out of the club. And I was sure that he would have had no chances to see me again.
Kyle quickly jumped out of his chair from desperation and impotence, but Grave's strong hand stopped him, placing him back.
"How long will you be torturing me?" Kyle roared about the whole hall, like a little wolf whom a pack of hunting dogs was tearing with their tushes, who were Grave and that crazy psycho Mr. X.
"I thought that it would be more funny, having given both of you the choice," Grave said loudly, rejoicing that he caught Kyle into a trap.
"Which choice?" Kyle howled again, realizing that Grave was just making fun of him. "You're fúcking me around yourself together with Violet. After all, she's your spy, huh? And you're still taking piss out of her!"
Grave suddenly doubled up with such a hysterical laughter about the hall that I thought he was going crazy. He was laughing an obnoxious way, sounding like a mix between a donkey hee-haw and a pig snort, that Mr. X couldn't help to hold himself and immediately joined him.
They were laughing like idiots while there were tears in my eyes. I understood what Kyle was driving at. He thought that I betrayed him and just nickered at him. I was broken.
"Oh Gosh! What a rich imagination! Violet is my agent?" wiping his cheeks from tears after fun, Grave went on laughing. "I had no idea such thoughts could come to your mind, Kyle Jamieson."
"And what could I have thought, seeing how strangely she was behaving? What?" Kyle replied, flaming with all the negative emotions that were now in his soul.
"No good." Grave smirked at him. "Well, we came here not to settle your disputes. I offer you a choice, Violet."
Grave turned in my direction, walking directly to me in his dark blue suit. He came up at a distance of an outstretched palm, lightly blowing into my face and smiling ominously.
"Violet, your mission is to beat Kyle."
He handed me a large and long leather whip with a black tip, and having taken my hand, put the whip into my palm. He clasped my fingers on the handle of the whip, showing how to hold it properly. But my hands were shaking, I couldn't do that. For me it was the torture, not the mission.
Kyle said nothing, he just undressed submissively in front of me, taking off his white shirt and leaving his pants. He dropped on his knees while his chest was rising and falling as if he was already preparing to my beat.
I thought that maybe it was a joke?
It wasn't. Grave proved the reality of the situation, watching the expression on my face with a smile. I tried to make it unreadable and play it cool. But apparently Grave could see everything that was rushing in my mind now like uncatchable locusts on the steppe field.
"You have to beat him so that he loses his consciousness." Grave chuckled, slapping me slightly on the shoulder blade. "Could you do this?"
After his words I broke into icy sweat. I knew that I couldn't do that. I wasn't such a sick bastard like Grave, who enjoyed punishing people and apparently brutal sex.
I couldn't hurt Kyle. I. Just. Could. Not.
Having given a doomed sigh, I handed a whip over to that scum Mr. Grave.
"I cannot..." I shook my head, barely holding my tears back. "I cannot, damn it all!" I yelled so loud that my voice was sounding like a echo about the elegant hall of Mr. Grave's club for long.
"Violet, you should..." Kyle silently ordered, still standing on his knees in front of me and waiting for my punches. He apparently tried to shield me and help me.
Was he a masochist?
But I was just wagging my head, being unable to fulfill the request of Mr. Grave.
"You couldn't?" Grave suddenly interrupted our silence with his snort, slightly shaking his head. He scratched his bristly beard, probably thinking about something.
Having clutched his lower lip with his teeth, he continued looking at me for a long time and wrinkling his black eyes, as if looking for the answer to his question on my face. And then suddenly he expressed his thought.
"Well, Fire. Then Mr. Jamieson will be on your place."
Upon hearing his sentence, I gasped. My knees suddenly began to tremble, and my body broke into cold sweat even more. Somewhere in my heart I knew that it would happen, and Mr. Grave wouldn't just let me go. I owed him not only money, but a probably the honor as well, because he believed that I would come that day to Mr. X and pay him the debt.
But I didn't come and ruined all his plans.
Let it be! Blast it all!
Mr. Grave gave Kyle the same whip with a leather tip, which I held in my hand, watching Kyle emotions tartly. He forcibly bent me to the ground, so that I dropped to my bare knees on the floor. His hands touched my butt and my thighs, as if by chance, but I knew that it was done deliberately. I could only imagine how Kyle felt at that moment, unless, of course, he still believed that I didn't betray him and didn't work for that devil Mr. Grave.
I heard Kyle's heavy breathing; I saw his inner struggle, and perhaps even war. I felt sorry for him to the bottom of my heart. Perhaps I was an idiot because I was pitiful to the man who probably was no more looking at me like at his woman.
"Come on, Kyle. Prove how much you love your Violet." Grave sang, standing not far from us. "We are looking forward to your performance."
Without any delay Kyle rose from his knees and immediately stood beside me, nervously wriggling his perfect toes.
He was nervous. Only a fool couldn't understand that.
Was Kyle trying to tell me something? I did not know what to think. I was just exhausted.
"I cannot..." Kyle said suddenly, and my heart pounded even faster. Did he believe me? Really???
"Kyle, if you can't, then Mr. X will do it for you," I heard the voice of Grave in which so much supremacy and arrogance was heard. He was the King, and we could only obey him or go on the block. The choice was limited. "Oh, Kyle, you know how Mr. X beats women. Choose – either you or him." Grave finished his sentence, giving Kyle the opportunity to decide my fate alone.
I heard Kyle's terribly heavy sigh that froze for a moment in the acoustics of the vast hall. It was such imploring, as if I felt Kyle Jamieson's emotional burden on my own shoulders.
It was so difficult that I wanted to cry. I could no longer hold back.
"Kyle, you're trying my patience..." Grave pronounced through the entire room, obviously wanting to prompt Kyle to immediately fulfill his punishment. "Don't provoke me. Either give me the whip or do it yourself!"
And then my world darkened when I heard a ringing whistle of the whip in the air. I realized that everything wrecked and went to bits inside of me. I couldn't assume that Kyle could even dare and do what Grave ordered him. But I know one thing for sure. If he did it, I would never look at him the way I looked before. I would hate him for what he did to me. I would hate him for the hope to be with him that he had given to me and then had immediately taken away. I would wildly hate him for those moments of happiness of our intimacy that he had given me before that day of the Rubicon. I would hate him for my feeling to him that was more than just affection. I would hate him for the hope of my salvation that he deprived me of.
I was shocked as soon as the leather whip touched my delicate skin. My brain cramped, not understanding with what outrageous strength Kyle Jamieson hit me. In a few seconds I just felt that my mind had already left me. The stroke of the whip was so painful and hard that it kicked not only the spirit out of me, but my feelings of fear, hatred and anger as well. It kicked everything I was fed up with while surviving in that hell. It kicked me out of myself.
I just heard some shouts, slaps and curses somewhere far away, which already had no effect on me. I was just sinking into a featureless obscurity and I didn't care at all. I was diving into another life full of darkness and despair. And I knew; at that moment I was absolutely alone.
Copyright © OlgaGOA
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*Girl, it's not needed to make them angry. Be obedient and they will let you go. (french)
**You fool! Think only with your head. Feelings are the dust only. (french)
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So, guys. I know how shocking you are. So am I.
I understand your feelings, maybe you scream now or maybe think like, "WTF what happened now? Why, Kyle? Why? We really trusted you! And now... How could you do this to Violet!? How? You killed her love! You're bastard..."
How do you think, my lovely readers, Kyle had a choice to change it or not? Maybe he did it for special purpose and has a plan now? Or he cheated Violet? Maybe he did it that Violet could really felt something for him and then get her in a trap to become his new submissive in this damn cruel club? Maybe he was secret Dominant and lied Violet that he doesn't want to see her in that status in club DC?
What's your thoughts now, guys? Share with me, my dear readers. I wonder. ;)
Next chapter can be a chapter where all secrets will be revealed? Ya?
Anyway, we will know it soon. Be patient, guys. xxx
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Thanks for your love and support, guys.
#CDC almost hit 38K views with 2K votes! Yay! You made my day, really!
Kisses for you
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FLUERIE - BREATH
P.S. All songs that I post - #CDC soundtrack list
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