Mastering the Virgin Box Set Five: A BDSM Ménage Erotic Romance

Chapter 7

“…. But he didn’t know who I was. He said he was going to sell us as a pair. He started to….”

She looks down, her voice breaking, “…. handle me… They were… they were going to rape us, ‘break

us in’ he said, so we’d be ready for his buyer. But Charlotte said he was mad, and he’d get a much

better price ransoming me back to you. Klempner didn’t believe at first that I’m your wife. But she told

him to look it up on the internet, and then she said that you probably wouldn’t pay to ransom me if he’d

been…. If he…. Oh, God….” She drops her glass into the water, burying her face in her hands,

sobbing.

I stroke her, kissing her hair, waiting for her to regain her composure.

After a minute, she wipes her face with foamy fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Carry on telling me what happened.”

Elizabeth nods and sniffs. It’s an endearing gesture, a little-girl sniffle, and I kiss her cheek.

“Master, let me turn around again. It’s easier if I don’t look at you.”

Elizabeth once more lying back against me, I lock an arm over her chest, stroke her face with my free

hand.

She breathes deeply a couple of times, the long slow breaths of someone taking back control, then

continues. “Master, Charlotte told Klempner that he’d better not handle me because you’re a billionaire

and you ‘like your goods pristine’…. Those were her words…. and that you wouldn’t ransom me if I…. If

he….”

I tighten my grip on her, press my cheek against hers. “I hope you didn’t believe that? It was just

Charlotte being clever. Talking in a way that a criminal would understand.”

She eases….

You did half-believe it….

“No, of course I didn’t….”

But the tension still in her body gives lie to her words.

You’re so vulnerable….

“…. but Klempner did. He had his men put me back into the cell, but they kept Charlotte there with

them.” And now, distress in her voice again, “Richard.… Master…. I think they gang-raped her. When

they threw her back in the cell with me, some time later, she was wearing different clothes and she

wouldn’t say anything. She’d been beaten, and her rings were gone…. The ones James and Michael

gave her.”

Oh, God….

What do I say to James?

Or Michael?

“…. Later she seemed to feel better. She started talking, quietly so that they couldn’t hear us. She told

me we were going to be taken out, and that before they got us into the truck, we had to run. I said there

was nowhere to run to, that we didn’t know where to go. But she said it didn’t matter, we just had to get

away, but she wouldn’t explain why….”

She knew we’d be alert for the tracer coming out from cover….

“…. Then she started banging on the cell door and yelling for her own shoes back. I didn’t understand

why at first, but when they gave them back to her, she took off the ones she was wearing and gave

them to me. She told me to put them on, wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“What was that all about?”

“I was still wearing the high heels I’d put on for a shopping trip, but the new ones were flat trainers.

Shoes I could run in. Anyway, it was getting dark and they came to take us away. Charlotte whispered

that I had to pretend to be very scared….”

Pretend?

“…. and to do exactly as they told us until she said different. She had hold of my hand. Wouldn’t let go.

Then, just as they were going to put us in the truck, she set off and took me with her. We ran into the

dark. There were trees, and a couple of times we banged into them or hid behind them. There was a lot

of yelling and shouting as they came after us. At one point, I nearly screamed, but Charlotte clapped

her hand over my mouth. Then we ran again. And we kept running….” Elizabeth’s heart yammers

through her body and mine.

“Would you like some more wine?”

“No. Just let me tell it…. We seemed to lose them, and I was breathless. So, she let me rest for a few

minutes. We were in the parking lot of a cafe….”

“A road-side cafe?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck! We parked there ourselves for a few minutes.”

She jolts. “That was you? We ran when we heard a car coming. but I felt better by then. I’d caught my

breath and….” Her mouth works. “Charlotte made me eat. She found food in the trash can. She made

me eat it….”

Second nature to a child runaway….

“…. It was alright, but it came out of the trash can. She told me she’d learned to feed herself that way

when she was small, running away from Blessingmoors after she’d been picked up by the police

before, for stealing food…. Anyway, it was only a few minutes after that when you saw us. We didn’t

realise it was you at first and she tried to pull me away….”

“Yes, we saw that….”

“But then, when you shouted, and the other cars arrived, she just pushed me towards you. She said

she’d see me soon when you picked her up as well…. And then….”

She starts crying again…. “Where is she, Master? She’s sacrificed herself to get me back to you,

but….”

I hold her to me, nuzzling into her neck. “Shhh… It will be alright. You’ll see. She’s smart and she’s fast-

thinking. No-one’s ever beaten Charlotte before…. “

But inside, sick with shame, my gut churns.

“Let’s get you to bed,” I say. “You’ll feel better for some sleep. And who knows, perhaps we’ll have

heard something by the time you wake.”

Elizabeth doesn’t move, so I lift her, wrap a robe around her and carry her to the bedroom. She sits,

inert, as I towel her hair, then blow-dry the worst of the damp from it, before lying her back and pulling

the blankets over her.

But she shows no sign of resting or of trying to sleep. She’s in no condition to be interviewed, so I need

to talk to Will, to tell him what she has told me. But I can’t leave her alone like this.

I sit by her, holding her hand, stroking the fingers, waiting for her eyes to close. As her lids droop, I

hover for a couple of minutes, then stand to make my call.

Her eyes snap open, full of panic. “Don’t leave me. Please….”

“My Love, I’m not going anywhere. I just need to make a phone call.”

Her hands clutch at me, pulling me close. “Master, please...” There’s pleading in her eyes. “I want you.”

Surely not?

“You want to make love? I thought.…”

“Please, Master. I want you inside me. They…. they made me feel dirty….” Her words have a

desperate edge. Her eyes are clouded, imploring. Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

My Love.... What have they done to you?

Elizabeth has been abducted before, but it was only a matter of hours before I reclaimed her. This time

they have had her for days….

My beautiful Elizabeth…. Wounded inside….

“Shhh.... Lie back.” I stroke her forehead and her cheek, framing her face with my hands as I press my

mouth to hers. Shrugging off my robe, I slide away the sheets to kiss her neck and breasts, my lips

around one nipple as I nudge at the other with my thumb. I try to be gentle, to ease her.

Will she come?

Does she want to?

Or does she simply want to feel me inside herself?

I'm not sure....

What is it she wants?

…. Needs….

?

And it comes to me.

Her doubts and fears, raised by Charlotte’s words, spoken in all innocence, and for good reason. My

Love fears that I might think her besmirched. Soiled.

Second-hand….

…

…

Take ownership of her again.

Claim her.

Make sure she knows she's mine....

And now, understanding what she wants, seeing the need in her I cease my gentleness. Instead,

cuffing her wrists with my hand, I raise them over her head, pulling her taut under me as I cover her

with my body. Then, sliding inside, roughly, I take her. Take her body. Take her soul.

Take what is mine.

She trembles, and I feel it in her, to be mine, to be owned again. Wholly. Completely.

And as I enter her, withdraw, enter her, withdraw, I cup her chin between my palms, watching her grey-

green eyes flicker and glaze.

“You’re mine,” I say, my embrace and my words fierce. “You're mine. I am your Master, and you are

mine. No matter what happens.”

Her eyes growing obscure, her breathing deepens as her body rises and falls to meet mine. I reach

beneath, hitching up her hips so I can penetrate her more deeply. Her legs swing up and around,

locking, welcoming me. And thrusting more strongly, driving in now, I kiss her, bruisingly hard.

“You're mine. No one else's. And never, ever, doubt that. If we are ever parted, I will always reclaim

you….”

She’s shuddering now, moaning under me as need melds to wistfulness….

“…. And the only reason I would ever not reclaim you, is if I believed you did not want me to.”

“Never.” Her words are breathy and broken. “Never.”

And at the end, her flesh clutching at mine, she gasps and arches, her nails digging into my

shoulders....

“Master....”

“Always,” I whisper as I spill into her.

*****