Bounty Hunter

Zinnia

My heart raced like a captive bird, desperate for freedom. The silence in the room was punctuated with female whimpers and sobbing. A sudden shiver ran down my spine. Was this another dream?

No. The weight of the ground beneath my feet and the ominous sound of terror intensified with every passing second, making it too real to be yet another dream.

“Wakey wakey, little flower,” a mockery tone, followed by the sound of boisterous laughter filled my ear. My heart throbbed in my chest while I frantically turned my head, trying to follow the direction of the laughter.

My eyes were opened. I knew my eyes were open, but for some reason, blackness clouded my vision, probably from the blindfold over my eyes, denying me the comfort of my sight and plunging me into the abyss of uncertainty.

The rope, maybe iron, that held both my hands to my back picked at my skin whenever I tried to free them.

“Look at that, our little flower is so brave, thinking she can free herself,” more laughter erupted in the – wherever the hell was this place.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

The blindfold was abruptly ripped off my face, almost knocking me off the ground. I squinted my eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When I did, I took in my surroundings.

There were other girls like me, ten in number, but most of them looked more beat up and worn out. Some, naked, had bruises all over their body but mostly fingerprints. Others, whose backs faced me, were covered in cable marks and long slits of maybe knives.

And then, my gaze finally landed on him.

Roman Slovov. My evident abductor. The man Reed had promised to kill only a few weeks ago. His eyes, a Hazel colour, yet empty, stared at me with a hint of amusement and pride.

He brought his fingertip to my cheek, rubbing against it. He leaned forward and duct his head, aiming for my collar. He took a long drag of my smell and when he pulled back, the amusement in his eyes was replaced with something dark, something that spread goose bumps all over my body.

“When do we get to taste Reed’s property,” one of the men spoke. I didn’t know his name, but I recognised him from Roman’s Banquet.

“Soon, my dear partners. Soon,” Roman moved away from me, however, his gaze never left mine. “But first, why don’t we make our little flower here feel at home,” he spoke to his so-called partners, his gaze still fixated on me.

Then he mouths something at me, and after letting it resonate for a while, it sinks in.

“Welcome to hell, little flower,”

My feet trembled. My entire body shivered. Surrounded by these men and with the uncertainty of what was to come made me nauseous and scared.

How had I gotten here? Matter of fact, where was this place? And where was Alex? I vaguely remember hugging her at the gazebo in Reed’s garden and now, I was here. How long has it been since then? Has Reed noticed my absence?

I was forced back to my dreadful reality when I heard the sound of cries.

“Please no, not again! No, I’m tired,” the girl, whose red hair was dishevelled and who looked to be in her early twenties, cried out hard.

They paid no attention to her cries. She was precipitously pushed to the ground, the shackles on her hand finding their way over her head.

When the first huge man stood above her and began to undo his belt, the poor girl fought hard, hoping that the shackles would come loose from whatever they were tied to. But they never did. The man took out his member. He was hard and the fact that they all got aroused from things like this threatened my already weak stomach.

“Open up, good girl. Open up wide for my urine,” he ordered. The girl resisted and one of Roman’s men stooped, forcing her mouth open.

I turned to the side, my stomach giving out and everything in my stomach came through my mouth, some, through my nostrils.

“You fucking disgusting bitch!” Roman growled. He approached me in quick steps and his hand flew across my cheeks in a hard slap, knocking me off the ground. Then, his hand was on my hair, dragging me across the flow to where the red-haired girl was shackled up.

“No, please. Roman no! Please don’t do this,” I began to beg when his belt came undone. But his intentions for me were different. He wasn’t going to do his business on me and have his partners take their turn with me, as was the case with the red-haired girl.

No. Mine was different. I guess, I should be thankful. Thankful for the fact that I was just getting hit by the head of his belt and not having all these men spill their seed in and on me.

But after so many strokes and so many pleas, of which I’d lost count, my body became weak. However, the pain from the strokes and that which were still being inflicted on me were the only thing preventing me from passing out.

At some point, my body became numb. So when Roman ordered one of his men to strip me naked, I was too tired to fight back. When he raised my head and forced his dick inside my mouth, I was too tired to protest. His dick hit the back of my throat and this time when I threw out, I didn’t get beat on. Instead, applause and waves of laughter erupted in the room.

I felt dirty and tired. Too tired that when he spread open my legs and pushed himself inside me, I let a tear stream down my cheeks.

But not from the pain that was inflicted on me. And not from the fact that I was being taken against my will.

But from the fact that my body betrayed me. So, when I closed my eyes and came, I let my thoughts drift to all the ways Reed has had his hands on me.

And I convinced myself that it was because of him that I had just orgasmed.

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