Page 5 of Volatile Waters

I slipped my finger from her mouth. “Chew.” We never lost eye contact as her jaw slowly started to move. When she swallowed, I asked, “Want more?”

“Yes, Master.”

While I did my homework, I had a sex slave rest her head in my lap. I fed her one little bit of food at a time. I even offered her water from my own glass.

The sensation of her head getting heavier, her body sated from her first meal in days, was most empowering. It was an act I would come to crave like my father’s approval. I wasn’t going to let Marina move until he saw me following in his footsteps.

“What do we have here?”

Marina and I were sleeping by the time Father arrived. Her head still in my lap, I lifted mine from the book it rested on and smiled proudly. “I fed her.”

Uncle was very amused. Smoking a cigar, he boasted, “The prodigal son is showing promise!”

Affectionately, my fingers ran through her hair. “I am her Master now.”

Father chuckled as he moseyed over to me. “Think you are ready for such a title?”

“Yes. Can she sleep in my room now?”

Father was still smiling when he fisted her hair and yanked her from my lap. “First lesson, little Master in training: Never get attached.” He started dragging Marina away from me. She was wincing but not putting up a fight; the punishment for such disobedience wasn’t worth it.

I chased. “Hey! That is mine!”

Uncle held his bouncing belly through all his laughter. “Fight for what is yours!”

Father spun around to face me, carelessly dragging Marina with him. “Do I not play with another now?” Crossing my arms, I locked my jaw. He was already stealing my one ounce of control. “Have I not taught you not to play with fire?” I stared at my pet, wanting her back. She was jostled in front of me while Father demanded, “This flame will burn. She has been trained for seduction. Now, it is time for her to seduce.” He yanked her face to his and stared at her until she nodded, comprehending his silent demand.

Again, I chased as Marina was roughly guided down a hallway and into the foyer. Father didn’t stop until standing in front of a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes. I hid in the hallway, shocked at the sight of a stranger. He had to be someone very important to be allowed in our home, or someone who could bring Father and Uncle a lot of money.

The stranger swallowed, instantly hungry for my pet, then forced himself to look away as he spoke in English. “Makar, I already told you I sell drugs, not women.” His accent was American.

Father and Uncle were looking to expand their reach into another country. And they were looking to do it with the man who had been selling us drugs for our slaves that were manageably addicted. Future owners found the expense of drugs to be a small price to pay to keep their slaves orderly.

Father grinned as if knowing a best-kept secret. “It is called broadening your horizons, Harold Thompson.” He placed his hand on Marina’s shoulder. “Kneel.”

She did.

“Show him what you want to share.”

As if transforming into a magical siren, Marina leaned back with lust in her eyes. Her hand rested on the cold tile behind her as she slowly spread her bent legs apart. I couldn’t see the gift offered, but it must have been tempting. Harold Thompson’s jaw hung in midair as he stared at the juncture between her thighs.

Father instructed, “Touch what you want to give him.” One of Marina’s hands slipped between her legs. Within seconds, Harold stumbled back two steps. Father kept smiling. “See? Broaden your horizons. Have a taste. If we can come to an arrangement in the U.S., maybe she can go with you.”

Harold’s eyes snapped to Father’s. “My wife is at the hotel with my son. How the hell am I supposed to explain—” His eyes found Marina’s offering again. He ran his palm over his gaping mouth.

“Hand him your leash, Pet.”

Oozing sex appeal, Marina rose to her knees and reached for the gold leash hanging between her breasts. One of her hands touched Mr. Thompson’s thigh as the other held up the chain of control.

Harold’s fingers twitched.

Big brown eyes gaped up at him.

He took the leash.

“Wonderful!” cheered Father. “Marina, take him to your table in the guest quarters and give him what I’m quite certain his wife will not.”

Marina’s hips swayed in an alluring fashion as she crawled up the stairs, a drooling American following her. The house was spookily quiet until they disappeared down another long hallway, then the clicking of a door shutting echoed.

In Russian, Father asked Uncle, “Birth control?”

Uncle was an OBGYN full time before switching professions. “None for months. Only her mouth has been fucked. This visit was perfectly planned. She is ripe. Stupid American is as good as ours.”

In a knowing manner, Father turned to see me in the hallway, not surprised I’d witnessed the whole betrayal. He dipped his chin. “Yury, never forget. The way to quench desire is to give her to another. Soiled in sperm not your own, you will no longer crave her.”

Father and Uncle hadn’t become bored with Marina; they simply put out a fire she was causing in their souls. A definite hazard in their profession.

By morning, another blaze had erupted. Harold Thompson had become bewitched by the sexually trained beauty and had agreed to start selling women in America. He took Marina back to the hotel to convince his wife that Marina was strictly a business deal in the U.S., unaware he had just sold his soul to a deceptive Russian family. He had also sealed the horrid fate of Harold Thompson, Junior.

A.K.A.… Crash.