Marionette

Chapter 4- Intertwined

Alice

I was right. Marissa was in Zachary’s room for his brand of healing, the one where he had to f**k her pain away. Though jealousy still stirred in me, it wasn’t as potent as before. The strange circus had me accepting what he was doing as nothing more than his job. It was.

Naked, I pressed myself closer to the wall so I could watch Zachary service Marissa. My n*****s were already hard, creating more friction with the wood. What was happening in the other room was a transaction, but no less passionate. She was on her knees, her large breasts swaying with each of his thrusts. Instead of feeling disgust or jealousy this time, only desire prevailed. I had never been this wet – soaked, even when I touched myself.

We were nothing to each other, not one word exchanged since I had arrived here. I would take whatever he could give, even if it was next to nothing. Then, when I was strong enough to go off on my own, I would also leave this circus just as I left my mother. In this case, though, it didn’t seem fitting to leave this place in the middle of the night, but rather in the early morning hours, when everyone else here would be sleeping.

The thoughts of escape went back to Hugh. He said we could never escape, and I wondered whether he meant it metaphorically. It couldn’t be physical. Who could stop me from escaping this place?

For now, Zachary and I were still intertwined. I went on all fours on the floor, feeling empty when I could only feel cold air between my legs. I had never been f****d, but somehow, I knew what I was missing.

When the first long and hard thrust of Zachary’s c**k entered Marissa’s p***y, I felt myself clenching. Even through my virginity, I felt no pain. I was, after all, taking what Marissa was feeling. Borrowing sensations.

“Yes! Right there, please,” she moaned. It was strange to know that she wasn’t faking it, and that I just felt a nudge that had me seeing stars. I almost blacked out and had nothing to clutch but the hard floor. My teeth bit my lower lip, blood blooming. The taste sent me on a greater spiral.

Zachary was a quiet lover. I didn’t hear anything from him – no dirty words, no praise, no grunts. Was he always this impersonal, I thought? The questions raced from my head as I felt the beginnings of another orgasm. I didn’t have to watch them to know that he was pounding harder into her. After all, I could feel the stretch made by his c**k even though I was physically untouched.

The pleasure continued for a few more minutes. The only sounds that could be heard were Marissa’s moans. I had bitten a finger raw. Zachary might feel my presence, but I wouldn’t humiliate myself by crying out.

I did black out.

I must have. When I came to, I was still on the cold, marble floor in a fetal position, and I didn’t have to turn around to know that someone was in the room with me.

“Was it good?” The voice was gentle and deep. Those three words were enough to make me fumble for my clothes. I crawled to reach my dress. There was no chuckle, no teasing, nothing at all coming from Zachary. He just let me dress quietly, my skin red with humiliation.

As soon as my dress was back on, I stood up. I tried to straighten the wrinkles in it, but to no avail; it was just as hard to ignore that I was wearing no underwear.

“W-what do you mean?” I finally managed to ask, daring myself to look him in the eye. Zachary was sitting on the edge of my bed, wearing a muscle shirt over heavy trousers. His elbows rested on his thighs, fingers clasped together. After what I had seen and felt a few hours ago, this wasn’t how I expected to see him.

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t. I still don’t understand why you invited me to this place and had not the decency to – to,” I stammered.

“To welcome you with open arms? With fanfare? With a marching band?” he asked, the gentle voice sliding into something harsher, but he hadn’t raised his voice yet. “How are you so sure I invited you here?”

“You didn’t?” My heart sank to my stomach. I braved escaping my mother, thinking I’d finally find refuge somewhere else. But maybe that was the goal all along. To leave her. If I could leave her, I could leave this place, too.

“You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have watched me f**k a client,” he gritted out.

“I can’t help it. Whose idea was it to place me in the bedroom right next to you? Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get out of here.”

“Didn’t they tell you that it’s impossible to leave?”

His words echoed what Hugh had told me. I scoffed and shook my head. I was done being my mother’s doll and had no desire to be anyone’s slave, even if Zachary was handsome as sin and the pleasure he promised through that wall was tempting.

He was temptation. When he rose to his full height, my breath hitched. He wasn’t as tall as Hugh, but he was easily a few inches over six feet with broad muscles flexing, and I had no doubt he could strangle me to death with his bare hands.

“Oh, Alice. Why did you fall into the rabbit hole?” he asked, taking two long strides toward me. He reached for a lock of my hair, watching it with strange fascination. “You look -.”

He stopped, as if he had just gotten out of a trance.

“I look what?” I asked, looking up at him. His grey eyes looked into mine, and I wondered what he saw there. Naivete? Desire?

“Beautiful. Fuckable,” he said, and I wondered how the vulgar word didn’t sound so crass coming from his lips. While I felt a little flattered, I knew that he meant to say something else – not those two words. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re doomed when you set foot on this circus.”

“You invited me.”

“No, I did not!”

He finally lost his self-control, and it startled me enough to back away physically. Before I could completely evade his grasp, he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me toward him. I slammed against his chest.

“Maybe we can find a way to leave,” he said softly. So, he was also planning to go? How bad could Crow’s Nest be? Madame Yora and the rest of the workers seemed pleasant. Welcoming. “But -.”

I let him take deep breaths and sigh before I asked my question. His eyes were looking elsewhere. I didn’t expect this kind of demeanor from someone who just.

“But what?”

“You’ll have to tell everyone you’re mine.” His eyes were serious, probing into mine. It wasn’t a twisted sense of humor that made him say the words. It wasn’t a prank, but it didn’t make sense either.

“I’m nobody else’s because I’m my own person, Zachary, especially not yours since you claim you didn’t invite me. Who did? I would like to know his or her name, and maybe I could contemplate being that person’s. But I’m tired of being someone’s puppet.”

“It’s not about that,” he spat. “When he finds out that you’re here, he’ll try to claim you.”

“He?” Fear and excitement coursed through me. “I thought Madame Yora was in charge of Crow’s Nest. The owner.”

“She’s the front, nothing more. The Ringmaster is also the Crow’s Nest puppet master. He only comes on full moons and special occasions. But if he sees you, he just might stay for longer.”

Why would anyone stay here for me? I was nobody special. I’d been called pretty, beautiful even, but I was just a girl with only a handful of things to my name. Most were stolen. My new identity here was still brittle. It could break anytime.

“I’m nobody’s own.”

“You stepped into the circus. That means you’re the Ringmaster’s, but I can tell them you’re mine.”

“If he invited me, then you can’t really do anything. Can you? What’s his name by the way?”

He sighed deeply, letting me go gradually. He was a large man and practically a stranger, but I knew he would never hurt me unless I told him to. It looked like I at least had two protectors here – Zachary and Hugh – just in case the Ringmaster turned out to be as evil as Zachary seemed to suggest.

“Mr. Crow. He respects what I can do for the circus. I’m one of his prized possessions,” he replied dully. He didn’t like it yet had no choice but to acknowledge the facts.

“Prized possessions,” I whispered. “Because you f**k women’s pain away?”

“Something like that. But I’m more interested in how you felt every little thing. Touch. Lick. Thrust.”

He punctuated the last three words with emotions. If someone else said those words to me, I would have run away from revulsion. But it was Zachary – and he made me desirable. He made me feel more.

“I don’t know how it happens,” I confessed.

“Something tells me that it’s why the Ringmaster invited you here. He might not mind me saying you’re mine. If not, you’ll see my head roll on circus grounds and Madame Yora and the rest would be quick to feed it to the lions.”

His tone was nonchalant, and his gaze was hard, but again, he was not joking around. He meant every word. I shivered.

“Are you taking the risk? Why not say I’m Hugh’s? He’s a large man. Formidable.”

Zachary laughed at that. It was silent laughter, with shaking shoulders and tears springing from his eyes. How could he?

“Hugh?”

“Do you think he’s not good enough of a protector?” I demanded. Zachary might awaken s****l desire from me – attraction – but Hugh warmed my heart. He could fling someone down the ground and crush them with just one hand. “Do you think he’s not good enough for me?”

“On the contrary, what if he’s too good for you?” he asked, a sneer marring his sculpted features. ‘We’ll tell everyone you’re mine. Didn’t you feel that already when you squirmed with desire on the floor. Twice. You’ve done it twice. For some reason, your senses become intertwined with each woman I bed when you’re close enough.”

“Wouldn’t that mean you’re mine, not that I’m yours?

I was thrilled with what was going on. The words coming from my lips were bolder than my mouth had ever been used to. I placed my palms on his hard chest, trying my best not to move my hips against his groin. Not to test if I could also feel if I were the one he had to f**k. Direct sensations. If second-hand s*x could feel so good, what would the real thing be like? Would it be nothing? Or everything?

“I don’t know what you are, Alice Woodhouse, but I intend to find out,” he said huskily, licking me from nose to lips. I could barely stop myself from trembling, but I had enough experience trying to numb strong emotions living with my mother.

“I don’t know what you are, either, but here I am. I don’t know how you can easily enter my rooms. There. Here. But I’m not afraid of you.”

“I didn’t say you are, but you should be afraid. Very afraid.”

The wisdom left in me told me he was telling the truth, but I let him lick me from lips to throat to the valley between my breasts, through the thin fabric of my dress. When he squeezed my breasts and rubbed my n*****s, I was so close to orgasm that I suspected I wouldn’t survive actual s*x with him.

Then, the sensations stopped.

When I opened my eyes, he was gone.

​