Mine

Less - 13

By the time one rolls around, a surly Blade knocks on my door. I appreciate him not barging in this time. I’d had enough time to plan out how I’m going to get under his skin. Compel him to my side and become loyal to me, rather than The Order he works for.

Although he refused to tell me anything about it, I can guess what kind of place this is. A cult of some sort. Something big that dominates most of the surly underbelly of the world. The silent grimy river that keeps society afloat.

It doesn’t scare me. In fact, it intrigues me. I want to be a part of it and this is my chance to do it. I open the door and let him in, the feeling of judgment crawling along my epidermis. He eyes me, taking in every inch of my body.

“I like that one. Looks exactly as I thought it would.”

I scrunch my nose up at him.

“I like it, too. Which robe though?” I ask, holding up two options. One matches the black lace I’m wearing. Elastic straps run over my breasts, just large enough to cover my n*****s, squeezing them together. They connect to two individual ones that hug the divets of my waist.

The crotch is nonexistent, rounding the thick part of my thighs, leaving my p***y open to the air. In my bathroom, I was provided with every tool necessary to groom and clean myself, and I took no time in removing every inch of hair minus a heart-shaped landing strip.

The other robe is a sheer light pink robe with embellished flowers.

“The pink.” He murmurs, looking away.

“You can look. I don’t care.”

He grinds his jaw but doesn’t look back. I can’t place if he’s angry or just trying not to overstep on Hiram.

“No. I’m your protection. I’m an extension of you. It’s not right for me to look.”

I shrug. He’ll look eventually. Anyways, I don’t care if he likes what he sees. I just need him to think I do.

“Whatever you want that makes you comfortable. I’m ready.”

Wordlessly, he leads me from my room, carrying my small bag that holds my makeup, room key, and some comfortable shoes for after. I’d chosen a really cute pair of knee-high heels with heart clasps up the front. The straps so tight around my calves that I’m sure I’ll have itchy indents after, but if there’s a chance Tate could see me today, I want to look my best.

We strut down the hallway, side by side until we come to an elevator. Its doors are tufted in leather; very different from the black walls and red rugs that line the hallways.

Blade scanned his wrist, the button outlines in blue as I can hear the mechanics jump to life. It’s not a long wait before a ding signals the arrival of the elevator.

The doors slide open to reveal a black floor, dim lighting, and mirrors all the way around, including on the ceiling. We step in and I have to admit, I’m checking myself out. I look good.

I catch Blade’s reaction from the corner of my eye. We kind of look good together. He, my protector. I could be some sexy ninja assassin or something.

The elevator dings again as it descends. We walk yet another hallway as Blade informs me that there’s a series of hallways just like this that connect the whole place underneath the ground. Above us now is the main courtyard.

When we finally enter the main building, I’m relieved. I should have worn walking shoes and then switched to these boots. The straps would have taken me forever to do though, and I have no clue how much time I’ll have before my set.

He leads me to a room with black lockers, no surprise there. Though, I expected the other girls to be here, but I’m left all alone once he hands me my bag, and closes the door behind. There are shelves stocked with copious amounts of snacks and foods from all over the world. The fridge has every kind of water and soda. The freezer is stocked, too. Loads of meat and veggies line its shelves.

There’s a crockpot and a full-sized stove. Beyond the lockers is every kind of gaming console with a large tv. The hallway has individual rooms and there’s a sign for a hot tub.

Before my curiosity can get the best of me, Blade is back, signaling me to move through another door across the room from the one we came in through.

“Ah finally, L7, you grace us with your presence.”

A man with slicked-back black hair and a perfectly fitted suit shouts. Hiram, for sure. His goons sit on either side of him, the girls who’ve danced before me lined up on the other side of the stage, each one with their own version of Blade sitting behind them. All in the same suits, all with the same expressionless faces.

They’re all staring at me. Hiram smiles through a cloud of smoke as I take the stage that’s in the center of a bar. There are a few stages, but this one is floor level with light-up boxes and poles jutting from its base. I drop my robe and strut into place like this is something I’ve done before. It’s not.

“Your list?"

“I didn’t write one.”

That catches the attention of the other girls and they look up at me. The goons all steel themselves waiting for Hiram’s response; the move subtle, but I catch it anyways.

He stands, extinguishing his cigar in the bar top before taking a seat at it, chuckling.

“This isn’t a choose your own path kind of deal, L7."

“Less.”

“What?” He spits.

I straighten my back.

“I want to be called Less. Not L7. I’ll answer your questions, but I’m not writing you a list. I’m not a child.”

Hiram leans back, letting his eyes travel every inch of my exposed flesh. Usually, that would turn me on, but this time, it did the opposite. He’s hungry for more than my flesh.

“That part, you’re right about. You sure are all woman. I can’t let you just do what you want though, sweetheart. In the future, if I ask something of you, you’d do well to do it.”

“I don’t follow directions well,” I say, not daring to look away from his boiling eyes.

I can sense Blade move into the room a bit further- my sign to knock it off. Hiram’s smile fades to a stare as he contemplates what I’ve said.

“I sure can sense that. I think I’ll keep you on my personal roster. Answer the questions in the order they were asked to you.” He turns his back on me, not bothering to repeat them.

“Less. I can do anything you want me to. Gothic, dark aesthetic. I’ve done it all and I’m not afraid to do anything new. I don’t have a single limit.” I rattle the answers off confidently.

Hiram stills before turning around, eyeing me up and down as he approaches the stage. He doesn’t stop until he’s inches from my face.

“Don’t lie.” He grits out.

“I’m not.” I bite back.

He narrows his eyes, getting even closer. He’s so close that I can smell the whiskey that tinges his breath. I can see he’s got perfect skin, the gold flecks in his brown eyes.

“Piss? Blood?”

I move my face closer to his.

“Anything.” I hiss in a whisper, feeling my tongue kiss the space between my teeth, inches from his own mouth.

He backs up, exiting the stage and rubbing his lip as he loses himself in thought.

“Gothic isn’t sexy,”

“It is on me.”

“Next girl!” Hiram shouts, motioning me off the stage.

I take my seat next to the fiery redhead. Her wrists look so small in her lap. Her green lace bodice and thong tell me she went for a Poison Ivy vibe. Something tells me it didn’t go over well from the mascara lines down her face.

We wait for the next girl in total silence. I watch as Blade murmurs with Hiram. Well, actually, as Hiram nonstop talks at Blade, who only nods every now and then. I can tell by the lights that reflect off his head.

“You’re a badass.” The girl sniffles next to me, not daring to pick her head up or look at me.

“Don’t look at me. We aren’t allowed to speak. I just wanted to say I admire you.”

The door slams open and Blondie struts in wearing all white looking like a sexy angel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a white in my entire life.

As she takes the stage, I give the redhead's hand a gentle squeeze. I may be unhinged for doing this, but these girls never asked for this.

I pull away as Hiram calls out Blondie’s answers on her list. She’s a virgin, going by Blondie, and her aesthetic is sweet and innocent. Hiram shreds her answer sheet into bits.

“What the f**k are these girls?” He shouts.

His goons jump up to assist him, bringing him a drink and making a call.

“You ladies are s**t. I ought to have you all sold to a whorehouse! A virgin, a slut, a mouse, a monogamous straight girl? How the f**k am I supposed to work with any of these bitches?”

Hiram’s shouting escalates as he approaches Blondie, backhanding her across the face. I tense. I know I shouldn’t move and hold my breath as she gets up again.

“You’ll do what I say, you hear me? I don’t care what you’re saving yourself for you little pig!” He grabs her by the hair, bending her over the bar top.

“Stop!” I scream, rushing around the bar to try and get to her when Blade grabs me by the waist.

I punch him in the back and arms as hard as I can, but it does no damage. He tightens his grip as he pulls me back to my seat and forces me into it.

“Control that w***e, Blade!”

Blade grunts as he fights against me, trying everything he can to keep me in my chair. I don’t know if it’s adrenaline or what, but when Hiram starts kicking my friend, I break free and jump the bar top.

Hiram backhands me just as I get to Blondie’s side. The pain sears across my face and into my ear where a white hot heat knocks my hearing for a second. Before I know it, I’m on my hands and knees.

Blade pulls me up from the floor, and pushes me into another chair. I try to fight him but the pain in my face doubles my vision and my arms fall limp. Blade kneels in front of me and for a second I’m horrified that he may try to f**k me, but instead, he pushes my leg back into the cold steel of the chair, clasping something around my ankle.

Then, he does the next one. He stands, taking my hands behind my back, tying them together and my shoulders to the chair.

“Listen up ladies! This is not the behavior you will exhibit here. You are here by privilege!”

“They aren’t trained dancers, boss. They are from a s*x ring.” Blade tries explaining in our defense.

Hiram shoots him a look. Surprisingly, his hair didn’t budge an inch during hie outburst.

My vision corrects enough that I can see Hiram seething. The door opens once more and in comes a tall man with skin like tar. He’s muscular and in the same damn suit all these goons are.

Then, right behind him, comes Tate Loren. I struggle to inhale, trying to adjust how I’m sitting, but it’s useless against the shackles holding me in place. Holding my legs open, I notice.

He glances my way but quickly redirects his attention to Blondie, who’s still on the floor, before rounding on Hiram.

“Is this necessary?” He demands.

“You weren’t here. Don’t undermine me, Tate.” Hiram grunts, his agitation increasing again.

“Jesus Christ, Hiram.” He yells, taking a knee next to Blondie before picking her up off the floor.

“I come in here and you’ve got one on the floor and another barely conscious tied to a chair. Another crying her eyes out!”

It’s only after Tate points it out that I hear redhead’s soft whimpers coming from somewhere to my right. Her sniffles fill the room as everyone looks around.

“This didn’t need to escalate.” Tate’s goon tries to ease Hiram’s wrath as Tate tends to Blondie.

My head throbs, my vision blurring again as I try one more time to sit up or close my legs, but I can’t and my body betrays me as my n*****s harden. He’s so close I can smell him and being tied up isn’t doing my imagination any favors.

Hiram storms out, his goons following closely behind him. Tate is now carrying Blondie, who he hands off to his own goon and finally comes over to me. My vision is still blurry, and my stomach churns as I try to say something to him, but nothing comes out.

He releases my legs and moves around to my arms and chest, unable to avoid my peeked n*****s, yet somehow, does. He looks angry, but I can’t tell if it’s at me and instead of picking me up, he orders Blade to, just as I puke all over the floor.