Page 41 of Volatile Waters

“Open your mouth.”

She did, so I placed a slice of peach in her mouth. The Elite tried to fight it, but her eyes fluttered shut. That was all Sam could take. Crash tried to stop her as she rushed from his lap on her hands and knees, eyes watering and silently begging.

I ignored the disobedient pet and asked the Elite, “Would you like more?” Of course, I knew she would, and she would do anything I asked. Her nod was with a gasp of anxious need. I could hear her stomach growling, persistently. “Okay, then lie back for me. Show me what I will get in return.”

“Stop this,” growled Crash. He had caught up to Sam and was practically hovering.

The Elite slowly laid back. With her feet flat on the ground, she pulled her heels close to her buttocks so that I could easily view between her thighs. Crash covered Sam’s eyes with his shaking palm. She didn’t fight him, but she did make a mistake by blindly reaching out to the plate of forbidden fruit. In a flash, I smacked the top of her hand. Sam barely had time to retract before Crash reached around her, yanking her hand from me. He held it to her chest, so angry with me. “You’re not allowed to touch her.”

My jaw locked to confirm I was done with his games. “Then tighten her fucking leash.”

Crash wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. He was panting as Sam fell into his chest, crying, “Please. I’m so hungry.”

Holding her as if she were priceless, his nostrils flared as his eyes slid shut. “Sam, this is what he wants.”

Practically in a fetal position, curled in his lap, she held her starving stomach. “Just ask what I need to do to eat.”

With his stressed face to the ceiling, he rocked her. It was gut-wrenching to watch him battle his morals against her pleas for food, something so many take for granted. He begged, “Yury, please don’t do this.”

Swallowing down guilt, I attempted a casual tone. “All I want in exchange for the fruit is for her to have pleasure.” Sam peeked out from Crash’s chest. I nodded at her. “That’s all.”

Trembling, she peered up at him. Crash refused to open his eyes nor stop facing the ceiling. Her body trembled as she touched his face. “I won’t make it on cheese alone.” She had no sympathy for him having to be the one to force her body into submission. She lacked empathy for him having to be the one to literally take charge of her, beyond the handling of her leash.

Who am I to judge her? I suppose I was doing the very same thing.

Sam was rewarded with fruit for lying on her back, for placing her legs like the Elite, and for every orgasm Crash was forced to wring from her body with his hand. As her belly filled with food—something Crash was still refusing, as if punishing himself—and her body was sated with pleasure, the young man in charge of her wiped away his tears.

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A depression took the place of all the food Crash denied himself after that day. He began to deteriorate. Sam began to flourish. She was eager for any new lesson, as long as food and pleasure were involved. The young woman’s body began to crave the highlights of ecstasy, what her upcoming Master had paid for. The man wasn’t into forceful sexual acts, unlike most of our patrons. He preferred underdeveloped bodies spurred into desire at his whim. Then he wished to watch the orgasm between the young teens he owned. Once lust was in the air, the new Master would join in with the heated bodies, having both at his fancy.

Once four months had passed, Sam’s new Master wanted his purchase delivered the next day. That is why I didn’t stop Sam in the middle of the night when I heard her trying to steal kisses from Crash. Unbeknownst to her, it was her last innocent moment. It was to be his first. All Crash knew sexually, up to this point, was forced acts. He had yet to find any arousal that I could see, during Sam’s orgasms, so I kept my eyes closed for once and let them share a night to hold close to their hearts, since I was just a few hours away from ripping those same hearts apart.

There was a glimpse of pride, knowing I could give Crash this one gift. I refused to let him lose his virginity as I had, bleeding all over the older female underneath him. Escalated breathing from Crash and Sam lulled me back to sleep as I wondered what it would be like to have such true affections.

The next morning, sitting next to the slave bed Crash had put to good use the night before, Crash was devouring his breakfast. In the bathroom, the shower was running. Sam was humming an American tune I didn’t recognize. I teased, “Crash, you cannot stop smiling this morning.” His eyes widened, his mouth full of cheese and bread. I teased again, “Huh. I wonder why.”

I observed his joy, watched him storing it into memory, knowing he would never smile at me again.

In the hallway, I waited for Crash to get a clean Sam into his T-shirt. Kirill and Adrian stood with me, also in their gym clothes. We needed to tire Crash out for the battle to come. I carried a casual smile, but somehow, I felt ill inside.

Kirill elbowed me, calling my bluff. “You like this kid.”

“Does it matter?”

He exhaled regret, losing his smirk. “No. I guess not. Still have a job to do.”

In the gym, Sam stayed in the corner in a submissive position. It was like she recognized how out-powered Crash truly was, so she tried to stay off the radar of the deranged. She was right to worry. Much danger surrounded her, like starving leeches, except it wasn’t blood that we craved. It was control. Maybe, because we knew, deep down, we had none. Not one ounce. And, Sam and every other trained sexual servant paid the price of our frustrations. The cost trickled down from the top of the pile of shit we pretended to own.

Crash was sweating, climbing the rock wall, still smiling, blissfully unaware of the nearing tragedy. What I didn’t know was how killing a part of Crash would harden a part of my own soul. Not until we were both fighting for the same girl, again, would we both be brought back to life.

Hanging from Monkey Bars, Kirill met Crash’s eyes in the floor to ceiling mirror. “Young one, you are looking winded.”

“Yeah? Well, it hasn’t been a vacation I’ve been on while here, fucker.”

After the workout, Crash kept Sam leashed but held her hand in an endearing fashion, close to his back, as we left the house gym behind. In the narrow hallway leading to the foyer, Crash was still catching his breath from the vigorous training we’d pushed him through to exhaust his fight. Getting closer to judgment time, Kirill and Adrian flanked Crash. He noticed immediately and yanked Sam against his back. Again, she asked no questions, always so willing to follow his lead.

So young…