Taken (Dark Grove Plantation) Page 4

  Holly planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Holden stood abruptly, and Holly squealed in delighted surprise as he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. “Where to, Mistress?” He asked Ella with a small, sardonic bow.

  “The main playroom, I think,” she said haughtily. “I’d like to have an audience.”

  And show everyone that I am a Domme. Including myself.

  Holden and Holly followed her out of the bar and into the playroom where the club had most of their kinky furniture set up.

  Ella appraised the room, looking for just the right apparatus. “The spanking bench, I think,” she said finally.

  Holden nodded and then flopped Holly down on the padded leather surface unceremoniously. She gasped as he flipped her over roughly, pinning her wrists down in front of her so that Ella could buckle on the restraints. Ella could see her cheeks pinken in embarrassment as she realized her predicament. She was bent forward, her ass on display for everyone to see. And there was nothing she could do about it.

  Ella remembered her own embarrassment at what Brandon had done to her, how it had aroused her so intensely…

  No. Holly. Focus on Holly.

  Feigning her usual coolness, Ella sauntered over to the toy wall and selected her instrument of torment. The single-tail whip was a bit intense for Holly, but Ella had a point to prove. And she would be very careful not to use too much force. She was the best Domme at Dark Grove, after all; she knew how to handle a whip properly.

  When she turned back to Holly, she could see that a small crowd had formed, eager to watch her perform. She had a small sinking feeling in her chest as she saw Charlie looking on longingly, a touch of resentment in his expression as well as he stared at Holly. But Ella didn’t have time to think about him right now, so she forced him from her mind. She would deal with that later.

  She approached Holly, cracking the whip through the air as she did so. The sub jumped slightly, and Ella was pleased to hear her whimper in fearful anticipation. As she drew the whip back, she could suddenly feel his eyes on her, boring into her. Her gaze shifted, and there he was. Brandon was glaring at her so fiercely that her mind went blank in shock.

  There was a loud crack followed by a high scream.

  “Red!” Holly cried out.

  “What the fuck, Ella?” Holden exclaimed angrily. His hand closed around her wrist, stopping her from drawing the whip back again. But she wasn’t going to. She looked in horror at what she had done. She had lost all sense of aim, of force, as she was trapped in Brandon’s gaze. There was an angry purple welt on Holly’s sensitive thigh.

  “Oh my god, Holly! I’m so sorry!” Ella exclaimed, distraught.

  “It’s… It’s okay,” the little sub forced out between sobs.

  “It is not okay,” Holden growled angrily, his grip on her tightening.

  “Holden,” she said breathlessly. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean-”

  A pair of strong arms wrapped around her torso, trapping her arms against her sides. “Don’t worry, Holden,” he said darkly. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Shit, shit, shit! Ella’s stomach plummeted at the sound of Brandon’s voice.

  Holden’s brows rose in surprise at the sight of someone manhandling Ella. But after a moment, he released her, turning to tend to Holly. When his gaze fell on the welt, his eyes narrowed.

  “You had better,” he told Brandon, his tone steely.

  Keeping her trapped with one arm, his other moved to press against her throat, threatening. Holden gave her an evil grin before Brandon turned her around roughly and marched her toward the far corner of the room, where the St. Andrew’s Cross was located. Ella tried to struggle in his grip, but he was too powerful; she felt so breakable in his grasp. Her sex flared to life at the thought. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  No, she willed herself. I don’t like this. I don’t…

  But the throbbing of her clit told her that that was a lie.

  “There’s no out for you Ella,” Brandon’s voice was soft in her ear, threatening. “Not unless you use a safe word. And I dare you to. To cry out ‘red’ in front of all of these people, to let them see that I’ve broken you.”

  Ella shuddered in his grasp, frightened, angered, and thrilled by his words.

  They were at the cross now, and her breath was coming in short gasps, her heart beating a staccato rhythm. She stared in horror at the X-shaped wooden beams, and she couldn’t help struggling as Brandon pulled up her right wrist, closing the metal cuff around it. The click of it closing seemed to ring throughout the entire room with an air of finality, sealing her fate. He did the same with her other wrist and then her ankles. Although she tugged against him as he secured her, he easily manhandled her into position.

  Her face burned as she felt Brandon undoing the clasps of her corset, pulling it free from her and tossing it aside. The soft texture of her lace skirt slid over her skin as he shoved it up over her ass, leaving her bare. He was stripping her of all her defenses, breaking her down. Punishing her.

  She was facing the wall now, was unable to see anyone. But she could hear the buzz of the crowd behind her, could feel their eyes watching her. She shuddered as their gazes ran over her like the touch of hundreds of fingers raking across her back.

  And her pussy was growing wet from it.

  There was a pause as the room fell utterly silent, save for the clanking sound as Ella pulled fruitlessly at her restraints. She waited with bated breath, knowing that pain was coming, bracing for it.

  But nothing could have prepared her for the searing, concentrated sting of the single tail whip licking at her ass. Despite her determination not to make a sound, a shocked cry escaped her.

  “You see?” Brandon said in her ear. “It’s not very nice when you hit so hard, is it?”

  Dread filled her as she heard the whoosh of the whip cutting through the air. This time the blow was harder, the tail stinging like a barb being raked across her skin. She let out a strangled shout, but at the same time her nipples stiffened. She wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or the humiliation or both, but her body was enjoying this, even if her mind was a mess of emotions.

  Then the whip lashed at her in the exact spot where she had hit Holly, on her sensitive thigh. This time she screamed in earnest. She couldn’t take any more. Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes. If Brandon didn’t stop now, she was going to have to use a safe word. Hating herself, she realized that she needed to. But just as she opened her mouth, Brandon’s soft voice interrupted her.

  “It’s okay, kitten,” he said soothingly. “It’s over now.”

  Ella heaved a sigh of relief, and it almost came out as a sob. Brandon ran a gentle hand down her back.

  “You’re alright now, kitten,” he murmured, his voice kind.

  His hand moved lower, and he traced a gentle finger over the marks where the whip had lashed at her. She hissed in a breath at the slight pain, but his light touch made her skin tingle all over, and she shivered under his hand.

  Unbelievably, she was becoming aroused. Brandon’s hard body was suddenly pressed against her back, and his hands were gripping her breasts firmly, squeezing them to the edge of pain. Her nipples were aching to be touched, and he obliged her, pinching them hard. Her cry was one of pleasure this time, as the pain made her core throb in need. All thoughts left her mind as one of his large hands slid down her belly to touch the top of her mound, pausing there, teasing her. She whined and pressed up into his touch, struggling to make contact.

  After what seemed an eternity, he stroked her clit.

  “Come for me,” he ordered.

  And she obeyed. Her whole body shuddered as she came, little bolts of electricity striking every millimeter of her skin. Her blissful moan was loud in her ears, and she knew that everyone could hear her, could hear the Domme being brought low, her body utterly dominated by a man. The thought only made her orgasm all the more intense, and her clit p
ulsed madly beneath Brandon’s fingers.

  As she finished riding out her high, Brandon stroked her hair, murmuring soothing, affectionate words in her ear. She let her head drop back against his shoulder, breathing hard, trembling.

  When he was sure that her legs would support her, Brandon released her from her bonds. His hand firmly around her waist, he turned her to move away from the cross.

  Then Ella saw the crowd, saw their shocked expressions, and her euphoria was doused immediately.

  She had come. In front of everyone. After being beaten. What was wrong with her? What would everyone think of her? She was getting dizzy; she couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs.

  She pushed away from Brandon.

  “Are you alright, kitten?” He asked, reaching out for her.

  She sidestepped away from him. “I’m fine,” she said, trying to steady her voice. “I just um… I need the restroom.”

  Brandon stared at her for a moment, his expression telling her that he knew she was lying. But after a moment he nodded, recognizing that she needed some time to herself.

  That made Ella all the more angry with herself. Why had she waited for his permission? She could have just left on her own.

  She turned on her heel and tried her best for nonchalance as she left the playroom, not meeting anyone’s eye. But she didn’t head for the bathroom. No, she needed to hide somewhere, and she had a good idea of where to go. The dungeons were dark, quiet. She was sure that she could find a dimly-lit corner there where she could catch her breath, sort out her tangled thoughts.

  She descended the stone staircase down into the dungeon area, enjoying the cooler air in the underground area. It soothed her heated cheeks and the stinging pain where the whip had lashed at her.

  Ella had just reached the last stair when strong arms closed around her, pinning her arms to her sides once again.

  “Brandon!” She said angrily, twisting in his grip. “Leave me alone.”

  “I can’t do that, Ella,” said a voice that most definitely was not Brandon’s.

  “Charlie?” She breathed. “What are you-”

  But she was cut off as something hard and round was shoved into her mouth. It tasted of rubber and forced her jaw open wide. It pressed further into her as it was buckled behind her head tightly. She tried to scream, to shout a safe word, but her cries were completely muffled by the ball gag.

  But Charlie had loosened his grip on her when he had silenced her with it, so she seized her opportunity. She jabbed her elbow back, catching him hard in the stomach. He released her as the air was knocked out of him. Ella spun around, heading for the stairs.

  His weight hit her from behind, sending her tumbling down. She didn’t get out her hands in time to catch herself, and pain resounded through her head as it cracked against one of the stone stairs. She was stunned. There was a ringing in her ears and her head was spinning. She felt like she was going to be sick.

  She was dimly aware of being lifted up, of being dragged forward. There was the thudding of a heavy door closing, the click of a lock being slid into place. Something cold encircled both of her wrists, and then there was the sound of clanking chains as her hands were pulled over her head. Ella was aware of pain as all of her weight jerked down on her wrists, the metal restraints cutting into her skin. She struggled to clear her head, to find purchase with her feet. Finally, she was able to balance on her tiptoes, alleviating some of the pressure on her arms.

  She blinked several times, and Charlie’s face slowly swam into view, illuminated by the flickering light of a torch that was mounted on the wall.

  “Why are you doing this?” She tried to ask, but her words were unintelligible, lost behind the gag. Charlie traced his fingers over it.

  “I’m sorry, Mistress, but I couldn’t let anyone hear you use a safe word. But I know you wouldn’t want to anyway. That’s what you want now, what you need, isn’t it? I can be what you need.” His eyes were glowing with a feverish light. “I can dominate you.”

  What? There was infatuation and then there was just plain crazy. Charlie seemed to be the latter.

  Her stomach dropped as he reached into his back pocket and withdrew a coiled bullwhip. She shook her head at him, her eyes silently pleading as she jerked at the chains that held her. She could feel something warm and wet trickling down her arms, but she didn’t care. She had to stop him. He didn’t know what he was doing. He would hurt her. Badly.

  “Don’t worry, Mistress,” he said softly, reaching up to cup her face. “I know this is what you want.” His hand moved lower, coming to rest on her breast. Ella felt as though toxic ooze was sliding over her skin where he touched her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to deny what was happening to her, but the wetness of tears on her face reminded her that it was all too real.

  He circled around behind her. She had a moment to dread as she heard the whip cut through the air. Her scream was swallowed by the gag. The hit had been harder than any that Brandon had dealt out. The sting was so intense. She could feel that the tail had bitten into her skin, leaving a stinging cut behind. The next blow landed across her back, not a flick of the tip, but a long line of pain. Ella’s back arched and she lost her footing, falling on her wrists again. She screamed as she felt something pop, and she quickly struggled back onto her tiptoes.

  “Ella?”

  She sobbed at the sound of his voice. She knew that the sounds would barely slip past the gag, but she screamed as loudly as she could, praying that he would hear.

  “Ella?” His voice was outside the door now, a hint of panic in his tone.

  Charlie pressed up against her back, his arms encircling her waist. “Go away!” He shouted. “She doesn’t want you.”

  Ella writhed in his arms, desperate to get away from him. She screamed again, trying to let Brandon know that it was her.

  There was a loud bang against the door, and then another. On the third, the door gave way, the wood splintering as Brandon kicked it open. He paused in the doorway for a moment, his face a thunderhead. Then he growled, launching himself at Charlie. He managed to pry him off of Ella, shoving him away from her. Charlie’s head hit the wall with a sickening crack, and he slid down to the floor, unmoving.

  Brandon was at Ella’s side in an instant, running his hands over her, checking for injuries. He cursed when he felt the warm, wet blood on her arms.

  “Where’s the fucking key?” He half-shouted, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He rifled through Charlie’s pockets.

  When he turned back to her, his eyes were furious, his rage palpable. He quickly unlocked the cuffs, and she cried out as the metal was pulled from her skin. She would have fallen to the floor if Brandon hadn’t caught her. As it was, she still whimpered when his supporting arm pressed into the cut along her back.

  He unbuckled the gag with his free hand, and she gratefully spat it out of her mouth.

  “Brandon,” she sobbed his name. Then she found that she couldn’t say anything else. Sobs wracked her, and she was gasping in breaths as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. For once, she was grateful for a man’s support, relieved to have someone to lean on.

  He lifted her up, hugging her to his chest. “It’s okay, kitten,” he murmured reassuringly. “You’re alright now.”

  Ella spent the night in the hospital, where they bandaged up her wrists. Thankfully, she had only torn a ligament rather than breaking it as she had feared, and the cuts on her back didn’t need stitches. Despite the emotional trauma of what had happened to her, physically she hadn’t been damaged too badly.

  The police had come and questioned her. Charges were being filed against Charlie for assault and attempted rape. It would be hard to get him convicted considering where they were when the incident had occurred, but Ella knew some pretty good lawyers who could get him thrown in jail for a long time. The cops had had some tough questions for Brandon; apparently he had nearly fractured Charlie’s skull. But when they saw the damage on
Ella they backed off.

  Over the next week, Brandon insisted staying at her house every night as he nursed her back to health. To be honest she didn’t need much nursing, but she didn’t protest. She found that she was glad to have him around; his presence was comforting.

  He hadn’t touched her, though. Although she had tried her best to seduce him, he insisted that she needed to heal before getting down to any “hanky-panky.”

  The more time she spent with him, the more she realized that she was falling for him. He wasn’t an imperious ass after all, it seemed. He was caring, gentle, funny. And he treated her not as a submissive, but as an equal.

  As much as she relished his company, she was crestfallen that he didn’t seem to want her any longer. Did this new respect for her mean that he was no longer interested in her sexually? He had been avoiding her advances, after all. But then why wouldn’t he leave her side if not for the fact that he cared?

  But now the cuts on her back were fully healed, and her wrist was well on the mend. It was time to test him, to see if it was possible for her to lure him in.

  When he came back to her house after work that day, she was sprawled out on the couch, completely naked, her legs open and her arms stretched up over her head. She could hardly have appeared more wanton if she tried.

  Brandon stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of her, his mouth hanging open. A few moments passed, and he remained silent. Then his jaw clenched, his mouth thinning to a hard line. Was he… angry with her?

  Ella sat up quickly, hugging her knees to her chest. The harsh sting of rejection washed over her, and she couldn’t stop foolish tears from forming at the corners of her eyes. She tried desperately to swallow them back, but the traitorous wetness spilled down her face.

  He was at her side in an instant, concern etched in the lines of his face. He reached up and wiped the tears gently from her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry, kitten,” he said, sounding pained.