Page 20 of The Seller

“What?”

“We just got a blonde. She’s pretty cute.”

“Let her go.”

“Boss?”

“Let her go,” I repeat. “There’s something going on, and I don’t want cargo on board if we have to go hostile.”

“Yes, boss.”

I hang up. They better let her go. It’s hard to keep an organization like mine running smoothly without constant personal oversight. I like to get away when I can, but right now it’s pretty obvious that Cephalonia is a luxury I can’t afford anymore

I make the decision to take Siri, and head back inland.

As I get ready, it occurs to me I’ve never said no to a delivery before. Not for any reason. I didn’t think twice about turning this one down, and now I feel almost good about it, knowing that some blonde is about to get away with a close brush with a lifetime of servitude.

I have managed to convince myself that I’m doing these girls a favor. Maybe I am. Maybe, I’m not. Maybe what makes you a monster is the point where you stop questioning what you’re doing to others and think about what you can get for yourself.

I’m not going to pretend not taking that blonde makes me a good person. If I thought she was useful, I’d take her. If she interested me, I’d take her. But Siri is the center of my world right now, the dark question mark lurking in my basement.

* * *

Pulling Siri out of her cage is gratifying. I don’t think she’s been enjoying it. She wasn’t meant to. She needs a shower after twenty four hours of being covered in my cum, inside and out. Smelling my scent on her body is quite enjoyable though, as is the look on her face, stricken and yet relieved. Her composure is starting to break down. She wants to stay strong, but there is something about a cage which will start to destroy almost any human being almost immediately. No animal was made to be kept in confinement.

“What do you want from me now?” She snipes the question at me.

I don’t answer her. I haven’t said a word since I opened the cage, and I say nothing as I lead her upstairs to a bathroom. She hasn’t seen my house before. I’m not expecting a compliment on it, and I don’t get one.

“Get clean,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the vanity.

I’m expecting an argument, but I don’t get one. She turns the shower on and climbs in, letting out a sigh of relief as the warm water hits her skin.

It’s good to watch her, her youthful beauty so perfectly on display through the clear glass of the shower. It has been too long since I’ve seen her in the light of day, since I first took my belt to her and watched her hips dance as they turned red over the hood of my car.

Siri is essentially ignoring me now, focused on cleaning her body, the hot water of the shower creating steam which curls around her curves, obscuring her for a moment, then exposing her all over again. In spite of my concerns for what might be happening to my organization, I find myself relaxing. It’s like watching a tropical fish tank, only far more enjoyable.

Siri

I never knew I would enjoy showering so much. This feels like pure luxury. The hot water makes my skin sing with relief as the soap helps the dried cum and filth of my ordeal melt away. For a brief moment, it almost feels like life is normal. Then I become aware of the fact that he is just standing there, watching me. I turn my head away so I don’t have to meet those dark eyes which haven’t left me since the basement. He doesn’t just look at me. He devours me.

Is this shower a mercy? Is it a matter of mere necessity? I’m not going to question it. I’m just going to enjoy it.

“Get out,” he snaps.

That’s a harder order to follow, but I do. Being left in the dark, cramped in the cage, alone with my thoughts, the awfulness of the past and the horror still to come has left me fatigued. I’m not going to fight him over a few more seconds under the water.

I step out, trying to keep quiet, looking away from him so I don’t get spurred onto another one of those spats which always ends badly for me. He takes a towel and dries me off, patting the water from my skin in a surprisingly caring, nearly tender way.

“We’re going on a little trip,” he says gently and calmly. “I’m going to take you to Athens. If you’re a good girl, you won’t be put back in a cage. I know you didn’t like it.”

I don’t deny that. I fucking hated those hours inside the bars. I didn’t think it would be all that much different than just being in the basement, but it was. It amplified my helplessness, and my fear. I felt confined to my very core, and I felt the fear that I might never be allowed out.

But… Athens.

Anywhere but Athens. The cage, rather than Athens.

“No.”

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