Caged By Them: A Dark MFM Romance (Descent Into Darkness Book 1) Page 4

  “Wait!” I grabbed the front of the cage and rattled it. “Don’t go—I need more than that!”

  He didn’t respond. He turned off the light and left me in the darkness like he had before. I had a hint, and it did give me enough information to piece together the reason I was in the cage—because I had only used my body to get what I wanted when I was online—blackmailing married men for money. But that left me with more questions. Who was the man with onyx-colored eyes? Who was the other man with him in the van? They weren’t targets—definitely not marks that I chose. I went after guys that would easily cave when a young girl started flirting with them online. I would have quickly passed if I saw either of them—I ignored guys that didn’t have the stench of desperation pouring through the screen.

  If he isn’t one of the guys I stole from, why did he kidnap me? I’ve never stolen from anyone in New York before—I always make sure my targets are far away. But if one of those guys has found me—oh my god.

  Reynard

  I knew my sweet Lizzy—my little captive—was beautiful. I didn’t expect her to be breathtaking. She had the body of an angel—lips that begged to be used. That was exactly what I intended to do once she had nothing left to bargain with except the one thing, she promised all of the men she stole from—the thing none of them got. I hated her for what she did to Wyatt, and I intended to make sure she suffered before her penance was complete. That didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it—I had been waiting a long time to watch her squirm. She wasn’t broken yet, but it wouldn’t take much longer. I was going to turn her into the submissive slut that she pretended to be—and I was going to savor every second of her suffering.

  “How’s your captive?” Mauro looked at me as I walked into the living room.

  “She’s almost ready to find out why she’s here.” I tossed the bra on the coffee table in front of him.

  “I still don’t like the way you’re going about this. I can tell you enjoy it.” He narrowed his eyes at me and picked up his drink.

  “So, what if I do?” I poured a glass for myself and sat down across from him. “It’s the only enjoyment I’ve felt since we buried Wyatt.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.” He sipped his drink.

  “There’s nothing inside of you that wants to go into that room, drag her out of the cage, and make her pay for what she’s done—scar her flesh with your anger?” I growled under my breath.

  “No.” Mauro winced. “I believe in justice, but I have no interest in torturing someone to get it.”

  “Then just use her.” I shrugged and sipped my drink. “Go in there and fuck her right now—tell her why she’s getting your cock while you shove it inside her.”

  I’d prefer to be the first one that makes her scream, but it’ll be music to my ears regardless.

  “This was a mistake.” He leaned forward. “We need to let her go. Let’s just pay her—give her enough to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone. It’s not too late, Reynard.”

  “I will not break the vow I made to Wyatt when I dropped that rose on his casket.” My lip curled into a snarl. “She is the reason he’s in the graveyard, so she’s going to wish she was there in his place before I even think about letting her go.”

  “There’s so much hate in you…” Mauro sighed.

  “Or maybe there’s not enough hate in you.” I narrowed my eyes. “You made the same vow—you stood there and said vengeance would be served.”

  “Because…” I could see that Mauro was getting angry—and that was rare. “Because I didn’t think anyone was responsible! I thought it was just another one of your fucking delusions.”

  “Another—one of my delusions?” I tilted my head to the side. “What other delusions do you think I’ve had?”

  “I’m not playing this game. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Mauro slammed his drink down and started to stand.

  I didn’t try to stop Mauro from leaving. I knew, that even if he had regret over taking Lizzy, he wouldn’t do anything about it unless I agreed to let her go. Mauro was not a weak man—but he never found a way to properly channel his anger. He didn’t let the beast inside him come out to play very often—he just bottled it up and tried to control it. I learned at a very young age that it was more fun to just let the beast take over—although I had never had someone like Lizzy to play with. It was all fantasy before her—submissive women that begged because they knew I wanted to hear the words on their lips. There was no joy in breaking a woman like that because that’s what they craved. It would be different with Lizzy—she would feel so much pain before she learned to enjoy it.

  I might even decide that I want to keep her. She can trade her wasted life for one on her knees—a slut that uses her body to pay for her sins every single day.

  The next day

  Lizzy had become so much of an obsession that I didn’t even go to work anymore. Officially, I was on a leave of absence—one that I had been on since I first found the chat logs between Wyatt and the girl in my cage. I spent all day in front of the screen—watching her—even when I wasn’t in the room. The infrared setting wasn’t the best, but I could see the despair on her face. That was enough to make my cock hard—just knowing that she was coming to terms with her own nightmare. I knew she was thirsty again—hungry—probably willing to trade anything for me to empty the bucket in her cage. None of the things she wanted would be free—and every offer that was refused would simply make the next one harder to swallow.

  I watched until twenty-four hours had passed since I visited her last. That would be enough time for desperation to kick in. I saw it in her eyes as soon as I opened the door and turned on the light. It looked delicious. I had a tray of food waiting outside of the room, but I wanted to toy with her emotions a little bit—let her smell it before I finally gave her a chance to bargain for her next meal. Her hierarchy of needs was definitely going to get more complicated soon. She was dirty—her muscles were likely cramped from being in the cage for so long. Soon those needs would triumph over basic ones like food or water.

  “Hello, sweet Lizzy.” I sat down in the chair closest to her cage.

  No response. Just a stare that was almost as cold as mine.

  “I assume you want food and water.” I tilted my head to the side. “And you’d like for me to empty the bucket.”

  “You know that I do.” She nodded quickly.

  “Your panties then.” I motioned to her. “Give them to me.”

  “They’re all I have left.” She exhaled sharply ,and her hands went to her hips. “I knew you would come for them soon enough.”

  Oh no, sweet Lizzy. Your panties are not all that you have to give, but that’s all I’m going to take from you this time.

  She did her best to remove her panties without letting me see her pussy, but I was able to get a glimpse of the sweet pink slit before they were completely off. I held up my end of the bargain, emptied the bucket, brought her a plate of food—a cup of water—and her favorite soda. She immediately began to devour them all—digging into the food and washing it down with gulps of soda. There was no regard for decency or manners—she was little more than a wild animal that had been starved. I waited until she was done and then pulled the tray away. She looked at me with the same icy stare that she had when I walked in—and I wanted nothing more than to remove it from her face.

  “Are you ready to talk?” I tilted my head to the side.

  “Not if you’re going to speak in riddles the entire time.” I could sense defiance in her words.

  Ah, the darkness is becoming normal for her. The isolation is no longer torment. I didn’t expect this to happen so fast.

  “I’ll let you ask one question.” I raised my eyebrows as I pondered what I was saying. “I’ll answer it.”

  “What’s the price?” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  She’s learning—I knew she was smart.

  “Lean on the back of the cage—spread your legs—keep them spread as long as we
’re talking.” I motioned to her with my hand.

  There was hesitation in her eyes. She had given me her clothes, and she was vulnerable, but she didn’t want to completely expose herself to me. I had to bust through that barrier—I wanted her to show me what was already mine—even if I hadn’t claimed it yet. I waited for her to obey—letting silence fill the room as she fought an internal battle to decide if she was going to do what I asked. Her need for answers was too strong for her to deny my price. She took her position and put a knee on each side of the cage—her pretty little pussy was on full display, even in the cramped cage that kept her from spreading her legs very far.

  “Good girl.” I nodded slowly. “Ask your question.”

  “What did I do to you?” She swallowed hard.

  “You’ve caused me pain.” I tilted my head to the side.

  “How?” She stared at me as she spoke. “How did I cause you pain?”

  “That’s another question—and not the one you asked.” I leaned forward. “Do you want the answer to the question bad enough to pay the price?”

  “I—I do.” Her hands balled up into fists.

  “Then touch yourself. Play with that pretty little pussy while we talk—and when the conversation is over, make yourself come.” I chuckled under my breath.

  There was more hesitation in her eyes. Her cheeks hadn’t blushed when she spread her legs, but when her hand slowly started moving across her inner thigh, I saw her body flush red. She didn’t stop though. She moved her hand to her abdomen, then down to her clit. Even with the shame, she felt pleasure when her finger pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves. She rubbed it a couple of times, then pushed her finger further down—between her pussy lips—and into the wetness that was starting to form. Her jaw quivered—she was trying to suppress the moan that begged to be released.

  “You caused me pain by blackmailing my brother.” I exhaled sharply and kept the rage from flooding my veins. “Wyatt Jackson.”

  “Wyatt…” She exhaled sharply. “Oh my god.”

  “But he’s not the only one you’ve blackmailed, now is he? You steal from people to satisfy your greed—ruin lives to pad your fucking bank account.” The rage was coming, and I wasn’t going to be able to keep it at bay much longer. “You’re nothing but a dirty little slut and you don’t even have the common courtesy to spread your legs before you fuck people!”

  “Oh fuck.” Her finger pushed inside her pussy and I saw her body quiver.

  Did she get turned on when I called her a dirty little slut? Maybe she’s more submissive than I thought.

  “Now make yourself come like the filthy whore you are—before I decide you don’t deserve an orgasm,” I growled and stared at her.

  Her fingers plunged into her pussy, but she didn’t go far. She was extremely tight from the looks of it, and her pussy started to spasm on her fingers. Her clit was a hard knot—I would have loved nothing more than to have my tongue where her fingers were—to taste the desire that formed from the brief bit of stimulation. Her eyes closed, and she kept masturbating—getting more vigorous as the seconds passed. My cock throbbed against the front of my pants—even if she was a filthy slut, I still wanted to fuck her. I would have to wait for that though—she needed to feel more desperation.

  “I’m gonna come.” She moaned and grabbed the bars.

  I immediately stood and walked towards the door. I heard another moan, then she started to orgasm. I turned off the light before she felt the pleasure consume her. I wanted to watch, but I also wanted her to feel like what she did bored me. She was used to men doing somersaults to see her breasts in a tight shirt, or a glimpse of her panties. She needed to know that her body was only as good as the price I asked her to pay with it—and that price was going to keep going up. Once I was on the other side of the door, I rubbed my cock through my pants. I could have unzipped and made myself come with a few strokes based on how hard I was, but I was saving it—saving it for her to swallow when those lips were the only thing that could buy her what she needed.

  Then she’ll spread her legs and give me her tight little pussy—it’s going to feel so fucking good when it is stretched around my cock for the first time.

  Lizzy

  I finally had an answer—I understood why I was in the cage. Wyatt. Wyatt Jackson. But having that name didn’t make it any better, because he wasn’t the one on the other side of the bars. He wasn’t the man with onyx-colored eyes. Wyatt was older. Plus, he was sweet and kind, not cruel. It had been well over a year since I stole from Wyatt—blackmailed him like all the others. I hated myself after I saw the hurt on his face when he heard the truth. He wasn’t like most of the guys I stole from—the men filled with so much lust that they didn’t want to talk about anything except their fantasies. Wyatt was open about being married—the problems he was having with his wife—and other things too. He mentioned family—brothers—they were big shots in New York.

  Oh my god. I remember their names—Reynard and Mauro. He talked about them several times. Which one was younger? Reynard! That has to be the man with the onyx-colored eyes—and that means the other man has to be Mauro.

  Eighteen months ago

  SweetSunshine18: Hey Wyatt!

  MrWyatt2U: Hello, my little dose of sunshine. How was your day?

  SweetSunshine18: It was good! I just got off work.

  MrWyatt2U: Same here. Another day at the office…

  SweetSunshine18: I still can’t believe you run your own company! That’s amazing!

  MrWyatt2U: It was my father’s company. Technically, I just run the Chicago branch, but it definitely keeps me busy!

  SweetSunshine18: I bet it pays the bills better than mine does. :)

  MrWyatt2U: Yeah, but I bet it’s a lot more work. :)

  SweetSunshine18: Probably so.

  Mr.Wyatt2U: My wife just home with the kids from baseball practice. I have to go. I’ll probably be online later.

  SweetSunshine18: I’ll be here…waiting! :)

  I closed my laptop and sighed as I picked up my cell phone and saw an alert from my bank. I was about to be overdrawn and if I didn’t come up with some money soon, I wasn’t even going to get the alert when I finally did get a negative balance because I wouldn’t be able to pay my cell phone bill. My plan to find rich men online that I could blackmail was proving to be less lucrative than I hoped.

  The first guy I found was by accident—just some creep who used the same name in the chat room that he used on Facebook. I was trying to scare him off when I started typing his personal information into the chat box, threatening to message his wife, and just hoping he would go away—then he typed something I never expected: Okay fine—how much? Please don’t tell my wife.

  I never expected the creep to offer me money—I just wanted him to go away. That opened my eyes to an opportunity that I never imagined. If he was willing to pay, then I doubted he was the only one. I wondered how many married men like the creep were out there. As it turned out—a lot more than I expected, especially when I started going to some of the darker places online where sex was the only topic of discussion most of the time.

  I had to take some risks at first. I set up an online bank under my real name but funneled the money through a PayPal account that had a fake name. I got an LLC set up in Wisconsin where it could be done privately, used that to open a bank account under my business name, and then I opened an account in the Caribbean to give myself one more layer of security. I even set up a VPN so that no one could trace my IP address and find out where I was—just in case.

  As soon as I stopped visiting the regular chat rooms and moved into the ones that catered to people looking for sex, I started getting a constant stream of messages. The problem was that most of those messages were useless. They were people hiding behind a screen name. For every hundred random guys that contacted me, I was lucky if I found one that had enough detail for me to find the information they weren’t openly sharing. Then I had to determine if they co
uld actually pay—and while I found a few that I was able to blackmail for a few hundred bucks, that wasn’t going to pay my bills.

  Over time, I got better at what I was doing—better at finding my marks. I masqueraded as a sweet, innocent girl—young—inexperienced. It was actually the truth, but most nights I didn’t feel very innocent after an evening of filthy chatting with guys that were normally fairly unattractive to me. I had to use my camera, show them my face—tempt them with my body—and I had to watch them pleasure themselves. I encouraged them to show me what they were doing so that I could get them on video. But, getting them to trust me enough to get the information for my blackmail scheme took time—and time was money—money I was in desperate need of.

  The message from Wyatt was unexpected because he messaged me on one of my older screen names—one that I rarely used after I started hunting in the darker places online. That profile wasn’t dripping with temptation like my other ones—and he just seemed to be looking for someone to talk to. I was going to ignore him since I was busy with my real targets, but then I saw where he worked—what his position was—and the dollar signs blinded me. I started trying to turn him into one of my marks, even though he didn’t fit the profile—I was the one who took our friendly chats the direction that would eventually get me the evidence I needed.

  MrWyatt2U: Okay, I’m back. Sorry.

  SweetSunshine18: No problem. I missed you!

  MrWyatt2U: Did you?

  SweetSunshine18: Of course! I like talking to you…

  MrWyatt2U: I like talking to you too. I just feel guilty about it sometimes. I used to be able to talk to my wife, but she’s so busy with the kids now.

  SweetSunshine18: Don’t feel guilty. It’s not like I’m going to tell her. :)

  MrWyatt2U: I doubt she would care. All I do is complain about my life. She already knows that the marriage is…strained.