“But…” Callie’s face scrunched as she appeared to struggle to understand. “Why?” she finally said.
“Isn’t it obvious? What better way to lure a girl out of her suspicions than by being another girl? If I’d been a guy online trying to connect with you, would you have agreed to meet so quickly? Would you have so easily shared your sexual fantasies about being kept in silk and chains in some dude’s harem?”
Color rushed into Callie’s cheeks as she again turned her head away. He couldn’t help but grin at the irony of her embarrassment, given her present situation.
“Please,” she whispered. And then louder, though her head was still turned toward the wall, “Please, Damon. Please let me up. My head hurts really bad and I need to pee.”
When he said nothing, she twisted her head back once more, her eyes beseeching. “Look. We somehow got our wires really crossed. This isn’t my fantasy. I never wanted this. You tricked me.” She looked around the basement again, tears pooling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be here. Just let me up and give me my clothes.” Her voice quavered, cracking on a sob. “I’m not going to do anything. Just give me my clothes and my purse and I’ll be on my way. I’ll get an Uber. I just want to go home.”
Damon grinned. “I don’t think you’ll find an Uber that can take you home from here. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
He got to his feet and stared down at the girl, almost feeling sorry for her. “Here’s the deal. I knocked you out over twelve hours ago with a pretty powerful combination of drugs. While you were out, I loaded you onto my private plane and flew you down here. Where ‘here’ is exactly isn’t important. Suffice it to say, we’re not in the States anymore, and you’re not going home any time soon.
“From this moment forward, until I grow tired of you, that is, you are my personal sex slave. You exist solely to please and amuse me. You will do everything I tell you to do, without hesitation and without complaint. If you fail in your duties or displease me in any way, you will be severely punished.”
She’d stopped crying, her mouth now hanging open, her eyes wide as plates. “What?” she said stupidly, irritating him.
“Don’t speak unless I ask you a direct question, cunt,” he snapped. “And then, make sure to answer.”
Aware he was being too hard on her, given her shock and still-drugged state, he said in a gentler voice, “I know this is a lot to take in right now. The bottom line is this—I’ve chosen you. You should feel honored, as I’ve been looking for a long time for the right girl. No one knows we’re here. No one knows you’re gone. You are completely at my mercy and under my control. The sooner you accept that, the better things will be for you.”
She continued to gape at him with big cow eyes.
With a snort of exasperation, he said, “I can see you still don’t quite get it, so I’m going to give you a little more time to contemplate your circumstances. I’m going upstairs to make myself something to eat. When I come back down, if you’re ready to be a good girl, I’ll bring you up with me and show you around the place. But be aware—the minute you misbehave, you’ll be back down here, got that?”
She didn’t reply.
His irritation edged into anger. Bending down, he grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head upward. Leaning down so his face was close to hers, he snarled, “I said, got that?”
To his annoyance, she burst into tears, while at the same time, a dark stain spread beneath her bottom, soaking into the canvas.
Startled, he let her go and stepped back. “Silly girl,” he said, his anger ebbing away as he realized what she’d done. He shrugged, managing a grin. “Ah well, you made your bed, or rather pissed it, and now you have to lie in it.”
With that, he turned from her and moved toward the stairs. As he climbed them, he twisted back to add, “Remember, good girls get to come upstairs. Bad girls stay shackled to their piss-soaked cots. See you in a while.”Chapter 5Callie lay stupefied in her chains, her still-sluggish brain not quite able to comprehend what Damon had just said to her. She couldn’t stop trembling. Her lungs refused to inflate. Tears were streaming down the sides of her face and annoyingly into her ears.
“Breathe,” she ordered herself, trying to regain some control.
She needed to think. There had to be a way out of this. Whatever this even was!
At least he’d left the lights on.
She lifted her head, craning to take better stock of her surroundings. From what she could see with her limited ability to move, the basement consisted of a large single, mostly empty room, the walls and floor of gray concrete. A sink, washer and dryer were against the wall facing her. By turning to the left, she could see the wooden stairs leading down into the basement. Water lines and various pipes crisscrossed overhead. There was a small door set into one wall. A closet? A way out?