Sold to the mafia

Katia

“Go get it, Toby!” I cry, throwing the squeaky stuffed lizard across the shelter’s backyard and watching Toby, a Golden Retriever, take off like a bolt of lightning to retrieve it. I let out an easy sigh as he reaches the toy and grips it in his powerful jaws, resting back on his haunches as he chews, making it squeal.

“Now bring it to me!” I command, gesturing at my feet. Toby understands my command, but he doesn’t move, the squeak of the toy blending in with the noisy cacophony of playful whines and barks of the dogs behind us. “Now!” I demand. Toby continues to ignore me, and I let out a groan, shaking my head and placing my hands on my hips and making a face.

He’s taunting me, wanting me to come after him. I don’t mind it though, I’ve been needing some playful bonding time with my dogs. It’s the only thing that helps my mood when I’m down. I gesture again at Toby, asserting my authority, but he’s stubborn, his eyes on me as he chews the toy. “Okay, if you want to play that way…” I begin to rush forward, but before I can take more than a few steps a dull throbbing pulses my upper thighs and ass, reminding me how sore I am.

Reminding me of Isaac.

A heavy weight settles over my chest as my thoughts turn inward, and I sink to my knees in the grass, letting Toby play with the damn squeaky toy on his own. I don’t want to think about my troubles today, preferring to just get lost in my work. But who am I kidding? I can never keep Isaac out of my mind, no matter how hard I try.

What’s worse is that I feel practically sick about it all. He’s upset with me. For the past week, there’s been an edge to his whippings, an anger that causes him to be more savage when he whips me. They’re true punishments. He always soothes me afterward, and the pain combines with the pleasure of his touch once he’s done with me, but nonetheless, they’re punishments.

The worse part about it is that I crave it. I get wet just thinking about it. How fucked is that? I don’t know what’s wrong with me, wanting him to whip me so hard. He never breaks skin, and it’s never more than I can take. I think I only crave it so much because after he’s done, he holds me, soothing my pain and then fucks me, giving me intense pleasure and showing that he forgives me.

But in the end it doesn’t solve anything. We both know that I’m still going to deny his collar and refuse to be with him outside of Club X. I rub my temples as they suddenly begin to pound. Just thinking about how fucked up this all is makes my head hurt.

I feel a slight nudge against my side and look down into clear brown eyes. Toby’s walked over and placed his toy at my knees as if he senses my discomfort. I feel a twinge of guilt as I look at him, as if my relationship with Isaac is a betrayal of my covenant with my dogs. Our whole relationship relies on kindness, gentleness and nurturing, while my relationship with Isaac is a dark, twisted thing, meant to sate my deepest desires.

“Come on, Toby,” I say with a sigh, climbing to my feet. Other nearby dogs rush to my side, hip to the routine. “Let’s go inside. It’s your dinnertime.”

I’m followed back inside the shelter by a pack of yelping, barking and excited dogs, my mood lifting slightly. I huff a small laugh, patting Toby’s head as I open the door.

Seeing all their excited, furry faces around me makes me feel fuzzy inside. They depend on me. They need me. They don’t care that I’m being whipped by a man at night. They love me unconditionally.

After penning each of them and giving them their food, I grab a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush to go about sanitizing the toys. As I scrub, my thoughts stray back to Isaac.

My owner. My master.

He wants me to depend on him, for me to need him. I look up at the sound of one dog barking and think about how it’s similar in some ways. I shake my head, sighing heavily and wanting to scream in frustration.

I am not a fucking dog, and I should not be comparing our relationship to this.

My phone beeps, distracting me and bringing me back to the moment. Thank fuck. I clear my throat, dry with emotion, and stand up from the floor where I was washing the dog toys and walk over to the counter, grabbing my phone out of my purse. I bring up the screen and my heart drops slightly in my chest. It’s a text from my mom. My breath tightens in my throat as I read.

Hey honey, the family is getting together for Christmas Eve. I would really, really like to see you this time around… and so would everyone else. Can you please come home?

Love,

Mom

I drop the phone back to the counter as the sounds of dogs barking in the background assault my ears, increasing the pounding in my temples. I really don’t want to go. I hate that I feel this way, but I just can’t bring myself to put myself through it. They all look at me like I’m broken, and worse than that, when I look at them I feel broken. It fucking shreds me.

What could I actually talk about if I went, anyway? Living in filth and absolute squalor, being whipped by a sadistic man while in chains? Or about how I found a new Master and how I’m grappling with the decision of giving him a 24/7 power exchange? I shake my head, desperately wishing I had something to make this headache go away. There’s no way they’ll ever understand.

I look back to my cell’s screen and feel a heavy weight settle on my chest. I know my mother is hurting, and I know she wants to see me. If I tell her no after I’ve been avoiding her all this time, who knows how she might take it. I don’t want to disappoint her, but at the same time, I just don’t want to see them.

Sighing, I pick up the phone and type out a response. I figure if worse comes to worst, I can always use the dogs as an excuse. They always need me. It’s easy to hide behind work and pretend like it’s not them. It’s not the reminder of where I was, and what life was like before they took me.

I’ll do my best to try to make it. But I can’t make any promises.

Love you

Kat

As I hit send, the doorbell chimes at the entrance. I hear the click of heels against the concrete floor and smell a sweet floral fragrance before I see her. I blink in surprise as Madam Lynn steps up to the counter, her hair pulled up into an elegant bun, her piercing eyes framed by wispy bangs. She looks totally out of place here, dressed in a designer black and white color block dress with a glittery black belt at its center, her heels a glossy white patent leather. She’s stunning.

I part my lips with surprise, my pulse racing in my chest. What in the world is she doing here? For a moment, I worry that I’ve done something wrong, violated some obscure rule of the club. “Madam Lynn-” I begin.

“You’re going to walk onto a stage upstairs in my club,” Madam Lynn tells me in a voice throbbing with authority.

Unconsciously I take a step back, my eyes wide. I’ve never heard or seen her act like this before, but the way she’s looking at me, her eyes filled with an intensity that makes my skin prick, I know she means business. I feel relieved that she isn’t here to tell me that I’m in trouble or that I’m being prosecuted for violating something I hadn’t been aware of.

“I’m sorry?” I ask her, not understanding what she’s talking about.

“It’s time to take a leap of faith, Katia. You know you need it. Stop hurting Isaac, and stop hurting yourself. You’re going up for auction.”

My hand goes to my throat, gently tracing over my scars and I find myself answering, “Yes,” almost as if against my will. I’m still shocked more than anything. Madam Lynn has taken time out of her busy schedule of running the club to visit me at my shelter. I never anticipated this.

“You’re going to stand there and offer yourself to be owned for one month,” Madam Lynn continues, and her voice is full of power. “You will be sold. And you will go through with your end of the contract.”

I tremble as her words wash over me, my limbs going weak over the realization. I need this. I know I do. And Madam Lynn knows it. I should do as she says, but I’m terrified.

The sharp edge in Madam Lynn’s voice draws my attention back to her. “You are going up for auction, do you hear me, Katia?” She leans forward slightly, her elbows on the counter, her sunglasses in her hands tap, tap, tapping against the counter. “I don’t do this usually. You’re an exception.”

The way she says it makes my eyes fall.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t like to see relationships fail when they could be so successful. Some people need a push, some a swift kick in the ass, and some need to be told exactly what to do.”

I take in a shuddering breath, at a loss for words. I know I should say yes; I’ve already been thinking about it. It will force me to commit. Kiersten was just asking me last night if I’d consider doing it, and now this.

She suggested I donate half of the money I received from the auction to an abused dog shelter, and half to the women’s shelter I was at temporarily. I could finally give back. I’ve always wanted to.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Katia.” Madam Lynn’s voice is so powerful, I’m shocked to my core to see tears in her eyes. I thought I imagined the emotion in her emails. We sent them back and forth for a week or so. And I truly felt connected to her, why, I’m not sure. I knew she cared about me on some level, but her display of emotion clutches my heart. There’s no way I can bring myself to deny her request. “You cannot treat your Master like you are.” She shakes her head slightly, her voice hushed and cracked. “You cannot continue to deny him. Worse, you’re denying yourself.”

“He’ll be angry with me, won’t he?” I whisper, clutching my throat. How could he not be? If I were to make myself available for another? He would be furious.

“To be given the chance to ensure your possession for one month?” She shakes her head, but keeps her eyes on mine. “No, he will be grateful. You will please him.” She puts her sunglasses back on, making her look chic and confident, and hiding the fact that she was nearly in tears a moment ago. “He already knows. You will do this. By pleasing him, you help yourself, Katia.”

“If I do this, I don’t want anyone else to have a chance to buy me,” I blurt out, my heart racing. I won’t go to anyone else. I don’t want to. There’s no one else that I want to give my power to. “It has to be Isaac.”

Madam Lynn is quiet for several moments, studying my face. “I’ll make sure of it,” she reassures me. She reaches across the counter and gently pats me on the hand. “Everything is going to turn out fine. You’ll see.”

As she bids me farewell and walks out of the shelter, her fragrance wafts through the air, leaving me wondering how I can possibly go through with this.