Pennies

Panic hissed through my blood as more terror than I’d ever known befell me.

No!

Stop!

My fingers flew to my neck (broken hand and all), clawing at the tight coarseness.

Get it off!

I can’t do this anymore!

Master A jerked the rope hard as if I were an unruly horse tethered with reins. “Stop that!” He headed into the lounge, dragging me behind him—cutting off my air supply as the noose grew tighter and tighter.

My eyes bugged as pressure built in my already throbbing head.

Wrenching me into the middle of the space with tight little jerks, he tied me to the coffee table leg. “Stay.”

I couldn’t stop my satanic hope as he disappeared to answer the front door.

Please, let it be him.

Every click of his shoes, I begged for it to be Mr. Prest.

Was it wrong that I’d given up hoping for freedom and would settle for a new master instead? Freedom was unattainable, but a new owner might be feasible.

If he returned for me, he could keep me. I wouldn’t try to run or kill him.

Just save me and I’m yours.

But I was stupid.

Instincts knew the truth. Master A was happy not furious.

Tony lurked in the kitchen, watching me with nefarious eyes. “You ready for some fun, Pim?”

I clutched my folded dollar as male voices sailed to my ears, echoing with two sets of footfalls.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Master A appeared, smiling at his friend.

Every last hope and stupid notion of a pain-free end evaporated.

Darryl.

“Hey, mate.” Tony slithered toward him, slapping Darryl on the back.

“Gonna have us a party, huh?” Darryl grinned. “Where is the little fiend?”

“Right there.” Master A pointed in my direction.

Darryl’s gaze fell on me, his fingers tightening around the black duffel he carried. “Hello, Pimlico. Been a bad girl, I hear.” His dirty blond hair matched Master A’s, making them brothers in sin if not in blood.

“Very bad, I’m afraid,” Master A muttered. “The minute that bastard delivers what I paid for, he’s dead. If I didn’t need his product so much, I would’ve killed him the second he entered my house.”

“What’s so good about what he can make, anyway?” Tony wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s just a boat.”

Master A snarled, “It’s not just a boat. It’s a floating city. No, it’s more than that. It’s an ark, you idiot. And I need fucking protection.”

Darryl smirked. “You finally run out of money, A? Loan-sharks gonna come knocking?”

“None of your damn business.” Master A suddenly laughed. “Let’s just say, the only sharks I want around me are the ones beneath my fully armoured yacht where I can nuke the shit out of them.”

“Good one.” Tony guffawed.

Their voices were as nauseating as razors on glass.

I hated this part. The anticipation of what they’d do. The ease of conversation between friends before they hurt me just for fun.

I looked behind them, tensing for Monty to join in. But there were no more visitors.

I should be glad. Today, I only had to entertain three instead of four.

You can do this.

You’ve done it a hundred times before.

So why did this feel so much worse?

“Right, enough chit-chat. Let’s get started.” Undoing the rope from around the coffee table leg, Master A hoisted me upright with a yank and a well-placed kick to my thigh. The moment I went from ball to straight, he let the rope dangle between my naked breasts. “I can’t believe that bastard. He touched Pim. He touched my Pim. He was about to fuck her, the cunt.”

That’s not true.

And I couldn’t unscramble why I was frustrated with that. Why did he threaten me with sex but never follow through? Had I failed in some way? Did he decide I was too high risk to sleep with?

If he was wary of sleeping with a slave girl because of diseases, he didn’t have to worry. I’d lost my virginity to this ogre and his friends all underwent tests before Master A let them near me.

“He’s gone now. It’s time for her to pay.” Darryl licked his lips, pacing away with Master A and Tony, their heads bowed together, discussing my punishment.

They loved this part—making me stew, building my terror.

They muttered and cursed too low for comprehension. Occasionally, a loud swear rent through the room, widening my eyes. Finally, when the itch of the coarse rope around my neck became too much to bear, and my fingers turned white protecting my dollar butterfly, Master A slapped Darryl on the back. “Yes, you’re right. I didn’t want to, but I’m sick of giving her so many chances.” His gaze met mine, dark and depthless. “She doesn’t want to talk? Let’s give her that wish.”

What?

What does that mean?

Tony stood back, crossing his arms as Darryl smirked. “Hear that, girl?” Pacing to the couch where he’d placed his black duffel, he unzipped it. “How cool is that?” Tugging something free, he kept it hidden as he moved toward me. “You’re the one who decided we’re not worthy of your voice. I think it’s only fair others aren’t privy to it, either.”

Master A stuck his face in mine. “You spoke to him last night, didn’t you? You whispered to that fucker as he thrust his fingers inside you. You begged for more and pleaded for him to rescue you.” His hand shot into my hair, tearing a few more stands in his outrage. “Answer me, Pim. You’ll speak to him but not to me!?” A maniacal laugh fell from his lips. “Well, not for long. That Prest bastard is gone. Our contract is signed. And he’ll never see you again and for sure never hear you again.”