The Island: Caroline Pt. 02

Her eyes were locked on the belt. Just what was he planning to do? "Yes, Paul," she said. "Just once. It won't happen again."

"Oh, I know it won't. Unless you want to keep paying me back this way."

"What way is that?" Her voice shook.

He opened his fly. "I hear you give great head," he said.

Shit. She should have known word would get out. "Where did you hear that?"

"Seems I'm not the first manager who's had to deal with your bullshit. When I saw your file, I didn't understand why you were still here, but I asked around, and it seems you are very good at getting people to look the other way." He folded the belt in half. "You understand?"

"Yes." She dropped to her knees.

"You could have just asked, Carrie."

"Asked for what?"

"A loan. Maybe I'd have given you 10 bucks just to show me your tits. But now you're a thief, so something more is required." He pulled out his cock. "Have at it."

She stared at him for a long minute, then got up. "No. No, I won't do this!" She dashed out of the office, out of the store, and stood outside on the sidewalk, panting. Now what? She'd traded her share of blow jobs for favors, but this was different. She wouldn't be coerced into it. Not like this. He'd probably call the police on her now, over 10 fucking dollars. At least they'd feed her in prison. Would she go to prison over 10 bucks?

A well-dressed man approached her. She stepped back to let him pass, but he stopped. "Ms. MacKay?"

She blinked. "Uh, yes."

He handed her a $20 bill. "Take that inside and give it to your manager, then meet me at the coffee shop across the street. I have a proposal for you."

"For me? What kind of proposal?" Would it involve more blow jobs?

"My employer would like to help you with some of your financial difficulties. If you'd like to hear more, do as I said."

What did she have to lose? "Okay. Sure. Thanks."

///////

Caroline woke up in a fog of melancholy. She checked the time on her phone and saw she had a message from Sir.

"Caroline. Be on the next flight out. Transferring you out of Recruitment to field agent. You'll be working the Midwest."

That was it. A field agent? There were no female field agents. That was bullshit. He wanted her off the Island and couldn't bring himself to just fire her. She didn't want to be a field agent!

She showered and dressed in her usual frumpy work clothes. She could go straight to her office and start an incredibly awkward work day with Pierre, or she could march herself up to Sir's office and demand he let her stay. Neither option was appealing. She wanted to crawl back into bed.

No, it would have to be Sir. She couldn't face Pierre right now. She couldn't face Sir, either, but she didn't have much choice. She hoped what's-her-name was busy doing something else, because a confrontation with her there would be impossible.

She took the long way to Sir's office, down to the first floor and then up in the direct elevator from there, trying to compose a script that would come across as level-headed and devoid of the deep emotions driving her protest. She knew it was useless. She knew she'd throw herself at his feet and beg if she had to.

The elevator opened. Sir was at his desk, startled that anyone had arrived uninvited. "Caroline," he said. "You should be packing."

Well, that wasn't promising. She steeled herself and crossed the office to him. "I don't want to be a field agent," she said. "I want to stay here."

"It's a promotion. You should be honored. You'd be the first female field agent." His tone was conversational, but his eyes were so very hard.

"I don't need a fucking promotion!" she screeched. Well, so much for being devoid of emotion. "I want to stay here!"

"Keep your voice down."

She took a breath. "I don't want to be a field agent," she repeated. "I like my job."

"So it seems." Sarcasm did not suit Sir at all.

"You're not doing this as a reward. You're doing it because you want me off the Island."

"Watch your tone, Caroline." Sir seemed to grow before her eyes, becoming more commanding, intimidating.

"You don't own me anymore. You don't own my body and you don't own my heart."

He deflated. She'd touched a nerve. "Then why do you want to stay here?" The anger, though. Angry Sir was still so frightening.

She chewed on her lower lip. "I've been here so long, I don't know how to do anything else," she said quietly.

"And if I don't want you here? Would you prefer I fire you, or will you take the promotion?"

Humiliation and grief brought tears to her eyes and heat to her face. "Did you really think I'd come crawling back to you? Did you want me to come crawling back?"

He stood up and leaned over his desk. "Get out," he said. "Pack up. Let me know by the end of the day whether you want the job or you want to leave."

She shattered. "Please let me stay." With great effort, she held back the heaving sobs that wanted to break free, but Sir had jammed his fingers in the cracks of her resolve, and the gaps were widening.

"Get out of my office. You will not show up here uninvited again." He rounded the desk, grabbed her by the upper arm and the back of her neck, and hauled her to the elevator.

The tears flowed. "Please let me stay, Sir. Please."

His hand on her arm gripped painfully. Sir never lost control, never acted out of anger. Even when administering punishments, he was fair and even-handed. Caroline had never been afraid of him.

Until now.

"You're hurting me," she whispered.

///////

She'd overslept. It was just a mistake. But missing a bar shift was unacceptable, and so she found herself in Sir's training room, tied to the frame. Sir approached, carrying a flogger. "You were 30 minutes late, Caroline," he said. "Fifteen to each breast and 30 to the ass."

"It wasn't on purpose," she said. Sixty lashes! She'd never expected that many, not for a simple mistake.

He touched her cheek. "I know. But you still broke a rule."

"My alarm didn't go off. I got there as fast as I could." She knew arguing was useless, but desperation overruled logic.

"And if I let you get away with it, what's next? It'll be chaos." He stepped away and drew his arm back. The flogger struck her right breast. She jerked, but it didn't hurt as much as she'd expected. She tried to calm herself, tried not to anticipate the next, but it was so hard.

Her breast became tender and raw and still Sir continued. He finished the first 15 and moved on to the left breast. The first few lashes were almost a relief, falling on fresh skin, but soon the left throbbed as badly as the right, and he wasn't finished yet.

"It won't happen again!" she cried. "It was just an accident!"

He didn't respond, just completed the second set of 15 and moved behind her.

"Please, Sir! Please stop!"

"Breathe, Caroline," Sir said. He continued at the same measured pace, leaving just a few seconds between strikes and not allowing two in a row to land in exactly the same spot.

She tried to keep count in her head, but she couldn't concentrate, and soon it seemed this might just go on forever. She sobbed, out of protests, welling up with resentment that he would do this to her. To her! A stupid mistake, setting the alarm for P.M. instead of A.M. Stupid stupid stupid.

It took her several seconds to realize the whipping had ended. Sir massaged her neck, waiting for her to calm. Then he was in front of her, hands tangled in her hair, kissing her so passionately she couldn't breathe and didn't want to. A hand trailed down her side, across her mound, between her legs to her clit.

As always, her body responded to his touch, quivering as his finger circled her clit, moaning. Every sense was heightened, every nerve tingled, enhanced by the fading pain in her buttocks and breasts. Fingers slipped into her pussy, rubbing slowly, building in pressure and speed as she fought her restraints. His thumb on her clit, thighs tensed, head thrown back, his lips on her neck, her hair in his fist, and her resentment drained away as she climbed, climbed, and peaked, then came down trembling. He kissed her forehead and released her, let her fall into him.

"All done," he murmured.

"Do you do that for all the girls?"

He chuckled. "Only you."

///////

"I should have hurt you long ago," he said. "I should have driven you away, but I couldn't." His grip tightened briefly, then released. "You're wrong. I do own you. I own this Island and everyone on it. Everything you have, it's because I give it to you. Those clothes? I bought them. Your apartment? I built it. The showers you take, the food you eat? You have them because I want you to have them. I could make you wash in cold water, eat toast for every meal. I can make you go naked."

How dare he?! She worked her butt off for him. She fucked strangers for six years to line his pockets. She spent hours every day sifting through data to find girls for him. For him! "No," she said. "No, you don't. You're my employer, not my master. Not anymore."

"Fine. Then you're fired. Pack your things. There's a plane leaving for Orlando tomorrow morning. Be on it."

"Or what?" She didn't know where this courage was coming from, to defy him so blatantly, but she would run with it.

His hands were on her again, but this time he dragged her away from the elevator, across the office. She struggled, terrified, pushing at his hands, trying to kick, anything to get away, but he knew how to handle rebellious women, and he was much stronger than she. His destination quickly became clear, and she renewed her efforts. "Let me go! You can't do this to me! Sir, you can't!"

The door to the training room slammed shut. Cuffs around her wrists, attached to the hook, and before she quite knew what was happening, she was dangling, her toes just brushing the floor. "I am NOT one of your girls anymore!" It was wrong, to use this room out of anger, for revenge. Sir had his own rules, and he followed them. Always!

He stepped back. "Or what, you asked."

This couldn't be happening. He wouldn't! She stared at him, sobbing, pleading with her eyes.

He didn't move. He stood there, breathing hard, hands balled into fists at his sides. After a moment, his breathing slowed and his body relaxed. "You can stay," he said. He lowered her until she could stand, then removed the cuffs. He kissed her forehead, nuzzled her neck, crushed her to him.

She collapsed against him, shaking and crying.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. He coaxed her toward the door with an arm around her waist.

She allowed him to guide her to his bedroom. She didn't know why. She was so confused. He loved her. She knew that now, without a doubt. She couldn't have provoked a reaction like that otherwise.

He had scared her, threatened her, and she should run far away. But then his lips were on hers, and she couldn't resist him. She didn't want to.

Her shapeless t-shirt dropped to the floor, then her bra, and he bent her over the edge of the bed and yanked her leggings and underwear down to her knees. His fingers worked her nipples as he entered her from behind, and his cock just felt so right. It was so right. He thrust hard, grunting, consumed, and tears coursed down her cheeks even as the intensity built and built and he dropped one hand to her clit and she came fast and hard, convulsing, panting, trembling.

A few more strokes and he came. He turned her around and kissed her in a way that said he loved her better than words ever could. "You can stay," he said again. "If you want."

She fixed her pants and picked up her shirt. "I won't - I can't be yours anymore," she said, and the words cut her as deeply as they cut him. "You love this new girl. I know you do. Or you will. And maybe you can love all of us, but I can't do it. I can't share."

He sat on the bed. "Then why do you want to stay, Caroline?" He really didn't understand. Maybe she didn't either.

"Because it's the only life I know anymore."

* * *

Chicago lived up to its reputation as the Windy City, but it was a beautiful May morning, and she was excited about her new adventure. Sir had suggested she try it out, go on one trip and see how she liked it, and then she could decide if she wanted to stay in Recruitment or take the field agent promotion. And sitting next to Pierre all day hadn't gotten less awkward over time. To her surprise, she was really enjoying the change of scenery.

She jogged along behind Bradley, who was equal parts annoyed at having a shadow and amused by the idea of a female field agent.

"Wait here," he said, and went inside some local burger joint. She wanted to watch the approach, hear the initial contact, but he said he would let her help with the second phase, when they tried to convince this new girl to go with them. He emerged shortly, smiling. "She's ours," he said.

"How do you know?"

"I just do. You develop a feel for it after a while. She'll meet us by the Bean in a few hours."

"The... Bean?"

He laughed. "Anything in particular you want to see while we're here? It's a nice town, Chicago."

"Where do we get some good pizza?" she asked.

Bradley grinned and led the way.

After some excellent pizza, a beer (or two), and a foray into a Target because Caroline hadn't gone shopping in an actual store in over seven years, they made their way to Millennium Park. Bradley made a beeline for a nervous, Hispanic girl standing in a little bubble of empty space among the tourists taking selfies in front of the big, shiny, metal... well, now she knew why he'd called it the "Bean."

The girl nodded in recognition when she noticed him, and he led her to an empty bench. Caroline tagged along. The girl glanced back at her several times in confusion. Caroline listened carefully to Bradley's pitch, and, more importantly, watched the girl's reactions. It wasn't much different from the one the agent had used on her so many years ago, but tailored to this girl's specific situation.

"We've paid off one of your credit cards," Bradley said to the girl, and handed her a printout showing the $0 balance on her Visa card, "and we've taken care of your parking tickets. We can do much more for you, though."

She took the paperwork from him and read it in disbelief. "Like what? Why?"

Bradley caught Caroline's eye and nodded. Caroline smiled. "Well, come serve our employer for a year, and when you leave, you can decide what you need. A house and a car? Start a business, go to college? Maybe you want to take a trip around the world."

"Serve how?" the girl asked. She was obviously intrigued.

"Come with us, ask no questions, do what you're told. If you accept, you must see it through. You can't change your mind. If you refuse, you can go, keep what we've already given you, but there won't be another opportunity." Caroline had rehearsed this bit over and over again so that she didn't accidentally say something she shouldn't.

The girl swallowed hard, eyes darting from Caroline to Bradley and back. "I'll come," she said.