Broken Ch. 04

Genevieve found out that Alder's contraption could keep her in a number of different positions, some of them more comfortable than others. He let her down from a particularly painful one and stood her up on shaky legs. She watched him as he released her, however, and he seemed pleased.

"Thank you, Master," she said. She always said that to Alex after he fucked her, and he seemed to like it.

Alder cocked his brow and gave her a smirk. "You're welcome, sweetheart," he said. He removed the loops from her right arm. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Very much, Master," she said.

He released her other arm and the contraption fell off of her back. "I have some work to do. Sit under the desk and suck whenever I get hard."

"Yes, Master," she said. He freed her from the contraption, and she got up to sit beneath his desk, kneeling between his legs before he pulled his chair in. It was dark, but she could see the outline of his cock, and it was already hard. She used the methods Alex had driven into her with his exercises. Whatever he did had worked, because Alder grunted above her and his hand came down to press her mouth further down onto his cock. Before he ejaculated, he pulled her off of him and shot his semen on her face. She knew from experience not to clean it off without permission.

She leaned on the side of his desk for an hour while he worked, staring at his crotch, and trying her hardest not to fall asleep. As usual, when she was alone, her mind went to math. She was in the middle of solving a graph theory problem when she saw him rise to semi-erect. She shifted forward and began again. By the time he was finished with whatever he was doing, she had sucked his cock three times. This was after he had fucked her in the contraption. She didn't understand how he kept going. He had to be almost fifty. She thought men were supposed to be worse at getting it up as they got older.

He moved back from the desk and curled a finger, indicating she should rise. She got to her feet and stood before him, hands clasped behind her back, eyes on him. He was smiling. "Go to the bathroom and clean yourself off," he said.

She turned and found the hidden bathroom in the wall. It was as beautiful as anything she had ever seen. Spotless white marble and granite. A beautiful mirror with a gilded edge. She saw her reflection in it and cringed away. She knotted her hair behind her head and washed her face off. His soap smelled like honey.

When her face was free of his semen, she finally looked at herself. She was thinner than before. Her face had lost some of its baby fat, and her stomach was flatter. Her hair was limp and dull, and her skin had turned pale. How could she expect to look healthy when she hadn't seen the sun in six months? She also didn't understand how they could possibly think she was attractive like this. Maybe the accompanying weakness was the point.

The only part of her that still looked the same as it did before she was captured was her eyes. They made her feel normal.

"Hurry up, sweetheart," he called from the office. She hopped an inch, hating herself for reacting so quickly, and ran to the doorway.

"Master," she began. "May I use the toilet please?" She didn't really need to go, but thought it might buy her some time before she had to face him again.

"No!" he said. "Come here."

She ran to the desk, and he waved her to one of the chairs on the other side of it, which was strange. Usually, he would have her sit on the floor beside him. She looked at the chair and back at him. "Sit," he said. He was leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him, and smiling as always. She took a seat and met his gaze.

"Do you know how long you've been here?" he asked.

A simple enough question, and she had been keeping careful track of how long it had been since she was taken. Based on how many times she had been visited by Alex and Caleb before him, along with the twenty times she had been delivered to Alder on what she assumed was a weekly basis, she estimated she had been there about half a year, and she placed the date as somewhere in early April.

"Six months, master?" she said, phrasing it as a question, hoping he would think it was a random guess. He wasn't fooled for a second and chuckled under his breath.

"You're a smart girl," he said. "I've reread your file fifty times. Sometimes it makes me feel guilty. But then I see you again, and I'm glad we caught you."

Genevieve had no idea where he was going with this line of conversation, and she had no idea how to respond. He just sat there, smiling at her. "Thank you, Master?" she said after a while, eliciting a full grin from him.

"Well, it looks like your intelligence is going to go to waste," he said. "I'm buying you for myself, and I'm going to fuck your brains out every night."

Fuck. She struggled to keep her face blank, to keep from screaming. She had hoped, prayed that her act had worked on Alex, that he would take her plea to stay with him as an indication that she was broken enough to be sold to an outside party. Even if she was sold to Alex, she might have been better off. Alex seemed to genuinely believe her change of demeanor, and he wasn't a fan of hanging her from the ceiling either.

"T-thank you, Master," she stammered. "I hope I serve you well."

A very low chuckle sounded from the depths of his chest. "Someday, I'll get you to break from your act," he said. "I'll have to punish you, but it'll be worth it."

He rose from his chair and circled around behind her. His heavy hands rested on her shoulders. He began to massage her gently. "Are you happy, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Master," she whispered. She supposed she would have to start calling Alex "Sir" again. She looked back at him, and met his dark eyes. "May I ask a question, Master?"

"You just did, sweetheart," he said. "I'll give you another one though." He winked at her.

She had to think of the right way to ask so that he couldn't get mad at her. "Do I get to be yours forever, Master?" she asked.

He tossed his head back and laughed, seeing through her syntax to the actual heart of the question. "In the past, I've sold off my girls when I get tired of them. Some people can't afford virgins." He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "Of course, I do like you, sweetheart. I might just keep you for the rest of your life. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Master," she said. She felt nauseous all of a sudden. Then he pecked her on the cheek, and she flinched away from the quick movement.

"Ha!" he barked. "I got you. Up over the desk. I don't think I've gotten to spank you yet."

She obeyed and leaned over the front of his desk. Without pause or warning, his hand came down on her buttocks, stinging as much as a paddle. She barely felt the pain, and didn't react beyond the occasional little hop. He hit her twenty times, running a finger up her vagina on the last slap before standing her up again. He was grinning like a maniac. "Let me show you to your new room."

Already? She thought she might get to return to her room one last time and cry in private. Maybe see Alex again. Jesus, what was she thinking? See Alex again? He was just as bad as Alder. And her room wasn't a room. It wasn't private. It was a prison, and so was this new one he was about to show her. She must never forget that.

He led her out of the office, up a flight of stairs she didn't know existed, and down a long, lavishly carpeted hallway lined with classical and impressionist paintings of landscapes, naked women, and scenes of war and hunting. At the end of the hall, stood two large double doors.

"This is my bedroom here," he said. "We'll be spending a lot of time in there together." Then he pointed to a smaller door beside them. "This will be your room. For when I need my solitude."

He opened the door with a key on a ring and let her in. What struck her first was the light because one entire wall was just a window, and the sun was flooding through it. What she saw brought tears to her eyes: small mountains covered in evergreens as far as the eye could see, blue skies above, dotted with picturesque clouds, a bird of prey was wheeling in the open air, and the sun. The glorious sun was visible in the distance. She wasn't sure whether it was rising or setting. She had no idea what time it was or what direction they were facing.

He pushed her forward past the doorway and stepped in beside her. "Quite a view, isn't it?"

"Yes, Master," she said. Her voice broke when she spoke.

He could see the tears running down her cheeks, and he touched a gentle finger along one of the tracks. "The window isn't UV protected, so you'll get your color back soon. And we won't have to worry about any vitamin deficiencies."

The room was sparse otherwise. There was an enormous, comfy-looking pillow on the carpeted floor like a doggy bed and a thick blanket folded on top. A steel ring was set into the wall beside it, which she could only imagine was going to be connected to her collar by a chain, and on the other side of the room was a small shelf with a few thin booklets lying on it. She read the name Mozart on one of them.

"If there's any music I want you to learn, I'll add it to the shelf," he said. "Go through what's there now until you've learned it all."

She looked back at him. "Master, if I'm going to learn it for you, may I have something to tune to?" she asked.

"Of course," he said with a smile. "I'll figure something out."

She nodded and looked back over the room. "Thank you, Master," she said.

"One last thing," he said. "Then I'll leave you to settle for a few hours."

Genevieve turned to face him. He was holding a wooden box that she hadn't noticed before. Perhaps it had been on the shelf, and he retrieved it while she was distracted by the view. He lifted the lid, and, sitting on a cushion of blue velvet, was a new collar. This one was gold, unadorned, like a wedding ring.

"You belong to me now," he said. "And tonight, I'm going to claim you as my own." He snapped the lid shut and grinned at the little hop she gave him. "Rest up, sweetheart."

He left her standing in her new cell to revel in the sun. It turned out it was setting, and she teared up again at the pinks and oranges she hadn't known she had missed. She curled up on her bed and stared out the window, contemplating this new situation. She assumed the glass was shatter-proof, and even if it wasn't, a drop from so high up would kill her rather than facilitate any escape. Even if she could break it, she didn't think she wanted to die. Yet.

She also didn't want to be William Alder's pet, or slave, or whatever he had planned for her. The thought of living her life in his room and in her little cell was enough to drive her mad. The only thing that had kept her holding onto sanity was the hope of escape. Now, without that hope, she didn't know what would become of her. Her mind eventually drifted onto the possibility of giving up. It would be easier, and Alder would probably be kinder.

Some unconscious part of her bit down hard on her bottom lip, drawing blood. Never give up! It screamed at her to get a hold of herself, but hope was slowly slipping away. The door clicked as she was lost in thought, but the voice that woke her was not Alder's.

"Sit up," said Alex. "I need to take your collar off."

Genevieve looked up at him, and her eyes teared over again. If it weren't for him, she would have been sold to some careless rich boy and be free. She would never have been brought to Alder's attention at all.

Like the tame little pet she was, she sat up, and he squatted down and twisted her collar so the lock was facing him. He didn't look her in the eye as he lifted his key to undo it, so he couldn't react in time to fend off her hand, which grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip.

He was so surprised, he forgot to act the part of a master. He finally met her eye. Whatever he saw was enough to make him hesitate.

"Alex," she said. Her voice was so quiet, she may as well have not spoken. "Please, listen to me." He didn't react or try to pull away. His eyes were wide and blue and filled with genuine concern. Then Genevieve made her face and voice as cold as ice. "If it takes the rest of my life, I will find a way to escape. And when I do, I will make sure you feel my pain. And when I'm done, I will kill you."

When she fell silent, he remembered himself. Rage took over his face, and he pulled his wrist out of her hand and slapped her. Genevieve barely felt the blow, but the force of it sent her flying back onto the pillow. As she stared up at the white ceiling, naked, on her back, collar still locked around her neck, she couldn't help herself. A mad laugh bubbled out of the depth of her stomach. Her cackle filled the room, drowning out Alex's deep breathing. She didn't know why she was laughing, but it seemed she was no longer in control of her actions.

"Are you mad, Alex?" she asked. The deliberate use of his name was as daring as anything she had ever done. "Are you mad you don't get to take my virginity? I don't belong to you anymore. I have a new master now." She grinned, baring all her teeth. "He's so much bigger than you. He'll feel so much better than you ever could." It was all so funny.

"Shut your mouth, you cunt," he said with a bite in his voice. She started laughing again, and he dropped to his knees, straddling her and wrapping a hand around her neck. He forced the collar down low on her collarbone and began to squeeze "Shut up!"

Genevieve felt her air supply cut off and thought she might just die to get out of this situation. Her ears were still working however, and she heard Alder roar, "Alex, get off of her! Now!"

His hand relaxed, and she sucked in a deep breath of air and began coughing. Alex's weight was wrenched off of her. She curled into a ball and stared out the window again, meek and docile and obedient once again. She knew she was going to be punished, but she didn't care. As long as she went back to the way she was before, Alder could only inflict so much pain on her. She could take it

"I swear to god, if you damaged her voice, I'm going to make you pay for it," said Alder above her. She heard the rage in his voice and second-guessed her conclusion. He didn't sound human anymore.

"I'm sorry, Will," said Alex, who seemed equally afraid of Alder. "I don't know what came over me."

"I told you not to get attached," said Alder. "Give me the key, go downstairs, and pick another girl to get your mind off her."

Alex didn't say another word, but she heard the door slam and knew she was alone with Alder. His hand touched her shoulder and pushed her onto her back, gentle and warm. He was kneeling over her, and, despite everything, he was still smiling. Genevieve had never been so afraid of a smile in her entire life.

He reached down and unlocked Alex's collar. She shivered, but bent her head to rub her cheek against his hand as he turned the key. A sort of gesture of contrition. It made him pause for a second before removing the black steel collar and tossing it aside. Then he ran his fingers along her neck. She shivered and sighed, shutting her eyes and enjoying his gentle touch.

"How's your voice, sweetheart?" he asked. His voice was as soft and deep as a cat's purr.

"It's alright, Master," she said. She met his eye and wondered what he was thinking. His expression was still a smiling mask of glee. She found it impossible to maintain eye contact. "I'm sorry, Master."

"I know you are, sweetheart," he said. "And you're going to keep apologizing until I think you've really learned your lesson. We'll have to postpone taking your virginity to deal with your little outburst, but I think I enjoyed that more than any pleasure or punishment. Stand."

He got to his feet and stood by until she was upright. On the way out of her cell, she noticed something new on the floor. In the dying, orange light of the sun, she saw a pool of blazing red. It was the robe Alex had given her. She hadn't noticed him bring it in.

--

"Sing. Now."

Alex was halfway to a blackout, wobbling on his feet above the cowering girl. She was older than Genevieve, and not half as strong or intelligent. She started singing in a quivering, whispery, pitchy voice. He didn't even recognize the song. It was some pop thing he never listened to.

He gritted his teeth and lifted the bottle of Jim Beam to his lips again. His head swam for a second but then his vision cleared, and he seemed to realize the girl wasn't Genevieve all over again.

"Shut up," he said. She stopped singing. "Get on your knees."

She obeyed without question, without that fire in her eyes, and began sucking his cock. It was limp, and he took no pleasure from the action, but she kept going. He should have known this would happen. There was a reason he didn't drink at work like most of the other men.

He pushed her away and stormed out of the room without a word, slamming the door behind him.

He was trying to figure out what upset him more. Whether it was Alder taking the girl for himself or the little outburst in her new room or the fact that he was feeling anger in the first place.

No, he decided. It wasn't any of that. It was that he had failed. He had thought she was broken, so when Alder asked if she was ready to be sold, he had said yes. But he was wrong. Her recent affection. Her submission. It had fooled him. She wasn't broken at all. Still just biding her time.

There was something else bothering him, though he would never admit it to himself. When she had grabbed his wrist, when she had said his name, he had felt genuine remorse. And when she had threatened him, he had felt fear. He saw death in her eyes and it had scared him. That was unacceptable. His reaction had made that clear.

He slammed a fist against the wall in anger. So far, since leaving her room, he had fucked three girls, bruising and beating all of them. None of it helped. He stumbled his way up four flights of stairs to the apartments and walked down the long hall to Alder's room. He could hear the screams long before he approached.

Alder must have been laying into her with a cane because Alex had never produced such loud screams from the girl, and the only implement he hadn't used yet was the cane. He had thought she didn't need it.

He also knew that Alder was specifically punishing her. No sex, no pleasure for either of them. Otherwise her mouth would have been full. All she felt was pain, and all he did was deliver. Her scream was full and unobstructed.

Good, he thought. She earned it, the little cunt. But he couldn't ignore the displeasure he was feeling. Only a day ago they had cuddled together on her bed. She had sung "Norwegian Wood" at his request, one of his favorite songs. Alder was right. He had gotten too attached. It had been fine when he thought the feeling was mutual. She had beaten him.

Now she was being beaten. That would end soon though, and Alder would be affectionate. He had always liked when his girls fought a bit, as long as they were generally good. And he kept them in much better conditions than most. He liked to spoil them. Rough sex and a harsh punishment ever six months or so. She would be living in luxury and comfort otherwise.

Alex listened to her cries of pain for a while, easing himself onto the floor by the door. Most of the trainers who kept apartments on this floor were already asleep, so he didn't have to worry about being disturbed.

Sometime in the night, he heard her singing. Her voice wasn't at its full glory because she had been shouting for hours, but if her usual voice was a ten, her diminished voice was still an eight.

The piece was classical. Something in French. He didn't recognize it, but he wasn't the biggest fan of opera. What he could hear right away was the pain. The pain in the music, in the words, in her very voice. She was singing for every beating she'd been given, every time she had been raped, every time she had pretended to be affectionate and loving towards someone she did not love.