He doesn't stop or bother glancing down at my state, only worried about his own pleasure.
Just as I am about to pass out, hot, sticky cum spurts out of him in streams down the back of my throat, coating my tongue and cheeks, tasting the salty flavor. Positioned the way I am, I am forced to swallow it.
“If you don’t swallow every last drop and lick your lips in appreciation at what I have fed you, I will turn you over onto your stomach and fuck your ass raw with anything I see lying around,” he says aggressively.
Thrusting one more time into my mouth, I suck it greedily, closing my eyes and pretending it is a lollipop until he is clean of any cum on him.
My face is tender, and my jaw is going to bruise.
“Threatening you seems to help; you follow instructions better. I will see you tonight, dear. Don’t wait up for me. I love the thought of you waking up to my dick somewhere inside you.” He raises his brows at me as he dresses himself meticulously.
Fastening his watch, he looks at the time and speedily steps out of the room.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Rushing to eat my breakfast this morning, I fidget with my silverware, anxiety crawling over me. I get dressed and pack a small bag, leaving my identification items behind. I sneak into my mom and dad’s room and pack some of my mom's clothes for Cassidy.
I wait in my room, sitting on my bed and nervously checking my watch every minute. As planned, I told my parents I wasn’t feeling well, and they made sure to tell me I could meet up with them later for lunch if I felt up to it.
Afterward, they took a small boat from the yacht to the island. I decided to wait an hour to be sure they didn’t come back for any reason. I double-check the small backpack, ensuring Ihave everything we need, and stuff some extra money at the bottom.
At long last, with the bag in tow, I head down to the engine room as relaxed as I can, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.
Throwing open the door, I see her staring off to the side, looking even more lifeless than yesterday. What happened?
“We don’t have much time,” I yell at her, getting her attention. “I’m going to unplug the camera and unwind the chains that are knotted to the bed.”
Sprinting over to the camera, I look over it, find the plug, and angrily yank it from the wall.
Next, I rush over to Cassidy, bending down beside the first set of chains holding her down. Spinning the chains around, I recognize them to be tied in boater’s or sailor’s knots. I detangle them as fast as I can, and somehow, I manage to get them all. She is free.
“Hurry, Tyler, he is going to come back for me. We don’t have much time if we want to get out of here unseen,” I hurriedly tell him.
I coddle and rub my raw wrists and ankles, whimpering at the torn skin.
“Get dressed,” he demands, throwing clothes at me.
Not bothering to look at them, I throw on whatever he gave me as quickly as I can.
My legs falter as I stand upright, the blood rushing through them since I haven’t moved them in over forty-eight hours.
Tyler bolts over and clasps onto my arm, allowing me to lean my weight on him. He uses his other hand to help me put on my pants.
“Well, well, look what we have here,” a teasing voice behind us says.
We both whip around in panic.
“It’s not what it looks like, Dad. This is the friend I was telling you about,” Tyler pleads with him.
An emotionless Martin walks over to him and punches him in the nose, and Tyler goes down on the floor, holding his face in his hands as the blood rushes from his broken nose.
“You are not leaving this room, slave. And if my son wants to take turns with you, well, that is his decision.” He shrugs.
He lunges for me, and I fall backward, scratching and hitting him like a rabid animal. I refuse to be his prisoner again.
“Tyler! Get up! Tyler!” I am screaming at the top of my lungs as tears form in my eyes. Martin slings me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing and leads us back to the bed, setting me down. He reaches for the chains, and that is what triggers a fire in my eyes. I fight Martin as much as I can, hitting, biting, and scratching at him, just hoping to make contact that would give me time to escape his grasp on me. The back of my head connects with his stomach, making him double over as he gasps for breath; holding on to the wall nearest to him, he attempts to stand upright, but the wind is still knocked out of him.
He gets ahold of himself and shouts, “You fucking bitch! You will pay for that.”
