Desire Be Damned [Completed]

A young girl of sixteen laid huddled in one corner to the basement. A long, rustic chain locked her in place. Helping me keep her captive, and unable to escape from her entrapment. This brought a small smile to my face. Blue eyes running over her pale, sweaty, skin. Dirtied by the dirt and dust of the cramped space. Her blonde curly hair has started becoming matted and tangled, her well-earned punishment, for attacking me some odd days ago. I was not entirely certain of the when, or that I even left a spanner down here, but it taught me an important lesson when selecting my next toy to play with. I remember the first time I laid my eyes on her. So perfect, and so easily broken like one of those porcelain dolls. Or that is what I first allowed myself to believe before she hit me over the head with the spanner. Foolish little thing. She should have realized I would not keep the key to her freedom on me while I taught her daily lesson on obedience. It stunned me a lot to learn this had not been the case of finally finding the one who would break beneath my touch.

While this one had been a great service to me, and fit most needs, I now knew in my gut she was not fated to be mine. My tastes, I am afraid were still under bearing one might say, and this one clearly saw through my lack of skill to tame her, my punishments too soft, I suppose. So, I would cut her lose, and send her off to another who would have better luck than I. Do not worry my kitten, soon, you will be out of my home and onto the next highest bidder. Her lack of innocence, made her more appealing to those who have been in this brother hood for much longer than I. My shoes rang loud against the concrete, like nails on a chalk board being scratched across. My kitten flinched, hearing the familiar foot falls that danced in her direction. She began whimpering, pressing into that small space of hers as though it would hide her from my view. Hardly a place even a doe would stand in. I half imagined her running off into a forest if given the chance to run away.

The unfortunate thing. In for the grandest awakenings. “Bath time my kitten. We have a guest arriving later today, so we will need to clean this filth off you before he arrives.”

Dropping down to my knees, I dragged her left leg toward me, where she is cuffed to the chain. First, unbolting the lock, then removing her from the cold hard ground. She weighed next to nothing in my arms, so a sendoff meal would not be too bad. The last thing I wanted is for her to faint in front of her future owner. It could not bode well for business, and the others would not sell me another girl if I failed in keeping them alive. She was given a quick scrub, then I brought her out to the main area to wait, just as I have been the whole three years. She would be fed, then given away while I resumed the search. Besides this time, I had every reason to have hope that the next girl I am given is the one I am searching for. Finding her, however, is going to take time with many others on the list. Thankfully, when it suited me, I am a very patient man indeed. Her condition showed how well used and trained she had been. There is nothing left of that outspoken personality she showed when I first had been gifted her by an old friend. One could attend the showing and pick what was captured throughout their travels to other states and the countryside. Or you could be a bit more selective, and give a description to what you like, and the personality in which you were looking for in a toy.

Did you want them only to ease your sexual frustration, and your personal stress from your day job? Or were you looking to meld them into your personal companion who undeniably would have to learn preferences if they wanted to make it past a few months under your care. Every girl I have been given, never seemed to hold onto their spark. Nor did they even try. They submitted only after a day or so of taking my punishment. This one did stir up my hope that the perfect girl laid out there in waiting. This one lasted two months before caving to her hunger, exhaustion, and isolation. I would be damned to not give her to someone else who did not care if they had sloppy seconds. For them, it was a matter of fine tuning her to their own sexual desires. I think once this one concluded everything in her own mind, she would realize what a blessing I am, and would beg for me to keep her. Oh well. Time to end my nasty dealings with her. My own cock needed a clean, fresh hole to fill that had not been broken or torn apart yet. I left her at the kitchen table, sipping a warm bowl of tomato soup and grilled cheese, which she was swiftly dunking in and out as before taking a huge chunk into her mouth.

Her hunger being the only important thing as I walked away to the front door where my associate waited to be allowed. Nick walked with purpose; his blue eyes focused on my face as he stepped through the front door. His hair mildly damped from being in the rain’s down poor. He wears a long black trench coat, black gloves along with his shoes and jeans. He frowns at the sight of my living. Blood stains on the wooden floor. Left over from the last time I gave the girl a whipping to her back side with my belt. She had not been able to lie on her back for two weeks. Not at the risk of pulling the stitch job I did for her.

“Rico told me your fucked in the head. Should have listened to him I guess. . .” Nick remarked. No judgement in his voice. Just amusement. Besides, Nick is as much fucked in the head as I am as the next bloke who entered the brother hood. In fact, it is why we all got along swimmingly. We each had certain something wired wrong in our brains to passing the girls between us. Seeking out that special one. He like me, thus far had not found anyone who fit to our liking. He turned from waltzing to the kitchen, already knowing the drill. He found the pitiful thing drinking away the last of the soup, her pale skin starting to have a more pinkish tint to it now that she had received a filling meal. Her blue eyes widened going from happiness to fear in a millisecond when she caught sight of Nick leaning in the doorway. One leg crossed over the other as he scanned her over. He did always have a thing for the blondes. This one would be no different.

“I will take her Hadrian. I take it you have her belongings packed, yes?” I gave him a subtle nod. Walking through the other side of the kitchen, heading straight for the suitcase I placed her clothing in. But since I grabbed her in the summer, and not the winter, nothing she owned would keep her warm for trip. Instead, I grabbed a coat I had not worn in a long while. It should last her till Nick managed to update anything she lacked. Without a word I handed the thick coat to Nick who took it with zero questions. He then helped the needy thing, who trembled beneath his touch as he slid each of her arms into the sleeves and zipped it up. He lifted her up into his arms without a second thought, carrying her to the front door and outside. I followed, suitcase in hand. I opened the back door behind the driver’s side, the unfortunate thing flinching as it truly hit her what was taking place. Her whimpers turned into a quiet sob, with mumbled pleas to not send her away. Fearing the fate of being Nick’s. I gave the safe travels gimmick, walking back inside for the warmth all without sparing a glance behind. Stifling air hit me in the face, and as I took a swift look around, I realized I really had let things get too out of hand here. The blood stains left behind would not be easy to wash out with it being dried there for some time. Time to make a trip to the hardware store.

I marched to my bedroom, grabbing my car keys and wallet. I also snatched my thicker coat off the chair near my work desk and went out with a bounce in my step. I bought a tool to help ply the wood off the main frame of the floor, and new wood to replace the old. I found some rope, a chain, a lock, camping gear. As one may never know what may arise from the occasion. Duct tape. Yes. The cliche. A safe one. The last thing I ever wanted to deal with is a damn drug addict in the making from my own stupidity. I then added to the list to visit the underground fighting ring. Where I could burn off the excess energy and make a request to the brotherhood to aid in finding me someone else to amuse myself with. The guys would surely find me a temporary plaything for the night to exercise the stored-up energy eating at every muscle in my body with tension so thick, I might be close to choking out a person or two if they so much as provide me with one reason.

Since the sun is up, hardly anyone was at the fighting ring. Mostly the workers setting up for the first few hours. Such as fresh towels, bottles of water, first aid kits. Even a few security guards to make sure nothing went south and brought a loss of money to the owner. Hell knows the last time the police officers were brought in to end the trouble started by two newbies. Well, what is the point of remembering their names? Both fuckers were said to have been found, throats slit, with a snake crawling around an eye carved into their chest as they laid in their own pool of blood. Eyes widened with fright as their life faded in the late hours of the night. Rumour goes, they were two friends who enjoying sharing a woman. The argument ironically was about who was getting to fuck her first that night. For those experienced in this lifestyle, sharing is a no go. It led to problems between you and those you trust at the expense of ending up like those two fuckers. Thrown in jail only to come out and have your neck cut to send a message to the others. Do not cause trouble, do not do anything that may draw the authorities to us.

Ric had been firm in with a guiding hand. A mentor for the boys looking to become men. Without him, I would not have last this long. For that, I owed him a ton more than what could be paid back in a lifetime. Instead, he offered the fighting ring as a small way to give my thanks. Every so often someone got a bit too cocky for the old man’s liking. I swung by his office, knocking on the door waiting for his okay, as I opened it and walked in. He sat at his back towards me, one leg propped over the small filing cabinet he owed. “Have a seat son. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was hoping if you could lend out a source of yours or two.” He sighed, guessing from the usage of my tones what I wanted from him. His shoulders squaring back as he tossed a look at me from over his shoulder. His face is covered in wrinkles, beginning to shape his face to that of a wise elder. To the outside world, he appeared be nothing more than a kind gentleman. A demon in human disguise or so the women have said about him at the bar a time or two. I took a seat in the metal chair he had set up on the other side of his desk, the flashbacks of sitting in a therapy circle that more or less ended with me flinging the chair across the room when they tried to push too hard on personal matters I rather keep secret and not be judge by the public for my sexual taste in girls who hadn’t even made it out of high school yet. My urge for creating the perfect partner these days outweighed any logical thought or morals my inner self used to be capable of by the time Ric became involved. Wise old bastard indeed. He knew what I am even when I could not admit it to myself.

I fought this. Denied it wherever I could until it was not possible anymore. There lied a darkness in me. One that reduced the walls of my heart to a pile of ash. The same ash you would find after a forest had been consumed by wildfire in the summer. At first, I experienced some skin crawling. Chills swarming my spine the first night I took someone to my little hide away. I learned much about myself in the first hour. The only guilt that hit me came when the poor girl died from undergoing the rigorous training her body went under. The lack of food, and water, did not help her in any case. Her cold body, her purple lips, and her lifeless eyes staring up at me, all reminders that seared in my head to take extra care of any doll that entered my domain.

Ric’s leg dropped down, his eyes weary as he turned towards me fully, his chin resting on his hands. His mouth set into a frown of horrible disappointment. He to believe he may have found the one who could keep up. “At least tell me the one I gave you last time is still breathing.”

He still carried that bitter remorse for the girl whom he personally sent to her death. I received a few bruised ribs, a black eye, and a cracked lip. Message sent. Do not get too harsh with a girl. Keep her alive. Teach her to be as you wish. But do not do anything that may lead to Ric having to cover up her ass. “Don’t worry old man. I gifted her to Nick. Said she was the one he may be looking for.”

“Good. That is good.” See? I knew how to play the game better. Better than I did when I began. “Alright, I will set you up. A permanent place as-”

I interrupted him. No reason to beat around the bush. He would sniff out any lie from my mouth ten thousand miles away. “Actually, I was just hoping to get a girl for a few hours.”

I half thought his eyes would pop out of his skull with the way his eyes widened to one of stunned horror. How could I fault him with what I had spoken aloud? We both damn well knew I was not familiar with the hunting techniques that came with living such a life. It is why the paid professionals that Ric often went to, for himself, or someone else who worked for him, had an anonymous person do the dirty work for them. Their skills allowed them to hide any unwanted trace that could lead back to them, and their little storage unit. In fact, when one of the brothers decide to keep the girl, there is a special tattoo they could have marked upon them, at any time, with their initials, tatted right beneath. I have seen this a handful of times.

A cigarette was pulled from the front pocket of his coat, a lighter flickered as he lit it in his mouth and took a long drag, thinking over how to proceed with the topic I brought up. “Do you think it wise boy? To try and hunt the girl for whom you have been searching?”

Is it wise? No. Was it worth it? Yes. “Nothing you say will change my mind Ric. Your men have not been able to find who I am looking for.”

Another puff of smoke in my direction is his only answer. “So be it. But know, if you bring any heat to the brotherhood, I will-”

“Skin me alive. I understand Ric.” We let our opinions hang in the air, instead focusing on him telling me the names of the men fighting in the ring tonight. Who would spending the most cash, and finally me leaving to shower at the back of the gym they spent many years building up here, dressing into more comfortable clothes, with the boxing gloves, a mouth guard, and a large bottle of water to control the thirst plus the heat my body would soon endure from parading around in a circle. The front area became packed to the brim. People rubbing against one another to reach the bar, or to watch the fight up close and personal. Shouts of glee as blood spilled to the floor from each blow. Time to get paid and beat down half the restlessness from my brain that a good fuck later will not be able to fix. The first hit gave a euphoric wave through the life of me. Like a druggie who experience their first high out on the road. It is the high I chased with obsession, hoping that with the promise of tomorrow, I may finally extinguish the burning which kept me awake at night. Crying out for the one who would no doubt be the one to save me from this hellish prison. The time sped and blurred as I warmed up on the boxing bag Ric had hanging in a more restricted area of the building.

The regulars who came in every night often made the wrong assumption, thinking that I was a newbie, nervous about his first fight in an illegal fighting ring. They would make jokes at my expense, saying how at the end of the night I would end up as their bitch. How wrong of them, to draw the wrong conclusion. As unlike them, I warmed up each night so by the time any one of them joined me inside of the ring, my anger would not get the better of me. My mind would be clear, and the target clear as they got creamed within the cage. Their faces would turn red and from each blow landed. Creamed by the very man they underestimated. The roar of the crowd, cheering as each man fighting, were called out by their fighting names. A way to keep them safe and anonymous.

“To kick things off, we’ll be starting with the crowd’s, adoring favourite, Hades!” The announcer shouted at the top of his lungs. An endless row of hush, as every one of them quieted. Whispers of, “oh fuck,” and, “they’re in for it now.”

The man who called me a bitch earlier, paled to a fine shade of white as I stepped right into the cage, the security guard locking the door behind me, as I tossed my black hooded sweater out into the awaiting fans. Two women, who been standing off to the left, were the lucky recipients. Their lovers, friends of mister idiot as I would forever take to calling him from here on out, swallowed down as we stood beneath the lighting, eyeing each other from the opposite side. Though the lighting was not that bright in here, I saw his throat bobbed with intensity. I knew that he knew he fucked himself up royally. Tonight, I was not anyone’s bitch. But he sure as realized, he was about to become mine. That is, if he still lived from the injuries, he was going to receive in less than an hour.