Please Let Me Be

Disclaimer: All characters are pure fiction and have no bearing on real people, events or places. Everyone is above the age of 18 (generally in the 22 to 42 age range). Some instances in my writing may involve non-con, reluctance, drugging, piercing, selling of people, etc. These are not condoned in any way but meant rather to make a damn good story.

This particular chapter jumps around in perspectives so keep that in mind. It'll help give some hints and further insight into our characters if you hadn't already guessed some of it.

Be safe and enjoy!

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Jolie gazed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her face dripped cold water. She felt ashamed at how her eyes were red-rimmed. Who would want a Product that cried whenever she came? Then Jolie remembered Marco and Jamal fucking her into a mess without a care as to how she felt. Maybe for some out there a stained and broken woman worked. Jolie really hoped that Terry wasn't like Marco or Jamal. She still winced with her movements. They had bitten, pierced, and taken her body in ways that were not easy. So far, Terry had taken her from them, he'd even seemed angry at them piercing her and not treating it afterwards. She already trusted Terry too much in her mind. Hopefully, that budding trust wouldn't be taken for granted. Jolie turned off the faucet and dried off her face. She tried to straighten out the now blood stained silk dress. The silk was rough on the inside and itched against all her aches. There must've been some stratches aside from the bites because the pain was like a hundred paper cuts. Jolie clenched her teeth and walked out of the bathroom while trying not to move too much.

"Here, put this on," Terry's presence outside the bathroom was a surprise and the clothes that he thrust out to her even more so. The fabric was soft like microfiber, not sheer or slinky in any way. Her brows rose in a silent question but she quickly took the short sleeved shirt and shorts from him. Who was she to say no to clothes that looked more on the spectrum of comfortable than sexy? Jolie tried to untie the knots holding together the silk dress but they seemed to have tightened up since she'd put the dress on.

"Let me," he pulled out a small but lethal looking knife and easily sliced through the ties. Somehow the deadly means of his help was hot. She looked at him was a new appreciation. Jolie was busy thinking about how truly powerful and scary he was to others that she didn't notice his intake of breath when she dropped the dress. He grabbed her arms making her jolt. Jolie looked at Terry nervously.

"What's wrong?" Jolie's voice wavered at the anger burning in his eyes when he looked at her. Then she took notice of what he really was seeing. Terry was gritting his teeth in anger at all the bruises, scratches, bites, and hickeys that littered her torso. Marco had been thorough when he hid all of it beneath the cover of her dress.

"Who did this?" his words pulled between his teeth.

"Master Marco," she pause then added, "and maybe a few are Master Jamal's."

He hissed out of a breath of anger before turning her nude body around so he could see the continuation of the marks on her back. The bundle of forgotten clothes fell from her hand to join the silk dress on the floor. She finished her turn back to face him.

"It looks bad, I know," Jolie wanted to comfort him somehow but couldn't think how.

"Looks bad, you say? This is horrible."

Jolie cocked her head in confusion. Terry was Marco's and Jamal's boss. They said they'd had other Products like her and Tessa. Plus, Marco and Jamal both made it seem like what they'd done to her was common occurrence and not all that far along on the spectrum of pain they liked.

"You look confused, why?" Terry asked.

"Well, you have others like me, right?" when Terry's brows lifted she hurried to

continue, "Other Products I mean. Master Marco and Jamal made it sound like they did this often. Shouldn't you have seen this before?" Jolie quaked a bit at her questioning of him.

"We sell Products to others, yes. Marco's in charge of their well-being. He knows that he has to treat them well or else we can't use them in our business."

Jolie didn't have an answer to that. She knew she wanted to remove the pain and anger from his face. So she did the only thing she could think of; she kissed him. Terry froze, his expression stuck in between stunned and his prior anger. His face was hilarious. Jolie laughed into his lips and pulled back with a smile. The kiss had been almost chaste. Then Terry had gotten a strange look in his eyes before wrapping a hand around her neck and guiding her back to his lips. The hold was strong but gentle and set up a strange zing through Jolie's body. He pulled her down to his smaller height without allowing her injured chest to touch against his clothes. His concern for her pain warmed her heart while his tongue sliding between her lips warmed other parts. Jolie moaned into his mouth, the worries of before wonderfully forgotten. Terry's thumb feathered against her pulse beneath her jaw. She tilted her head to allow him more access. His tongue slid against hers. He made her wet and aching. His free hand slid down to her pussy. Fingers brushed through curls to find that she was soaked for him. Jolie was surprised to realize just how fast she'd heated for him. Terry groaned in hunger but pulled back from her. She let out a sound of sadness.

"Not yet," Terry's words husky, he cleared his throat, "we have to treat your wounds first."

Jolie blinked to clear the haze of lust then nodded in understanding. He bent and picked up the piles of cloth that had lain at their feet. He handed her back the shirt and shorts.

"Don't dress just yet, you can sit on the bed." Terry nodded to a door she hadn't noticed before. She watched him take the silk gown in a clenched fist. He tossed it in the bathroom trash and knelt down to open the bathroom sink cabinet. Jolie assumed he was looking for a first aid kit so she headed for his bedroom. She didn't know what she'd expected of his bedroom but it certainly wasn't this. Every inch of Terry's room was covered in a warm glowing orange and red tone. The walls were painted the color of pumpkins and the bedding was a rich red like cherries. Aside from that he had paintings of Fall trees on every single wall and windows with light orange curtains on two walls. The room had a lived in feel since it was a little cluttered. A beer can rested on a nightstand with a small lamp. Some shirts hadn't made their way into a hamper by the door she'd come in and his closet door was ajar enough for her to see a tumble of shoes on the closet floor. Jolie was charmed. This room was nothing like Marco's and Jamal's cold sterility. Terry's bedroom was nothing like any room she'd seen before. Even back at the Business they all slept in a communal room so as to keep the Products from sneaking around. Jolie realized that if she had a bedroom for herself that this would be what it'd look like. She peeked out the curtains of one of the windows and felt a bolt of vertigo. Since she hadn't seen the entry into the building she didn't know that she was so high up. Everywhere she looked there were skyscrapers. Far below tiny cars honked aggressively and even tinier people went about their lives. Somehow, knowing she was in a city made Terry's earth and forest themed room even better. She left the window to perch carefully at the end of the bed.

Terry came in with a large first aid kit, a bottle of water, and two pills. He handed her the water and pills and gestured her to down them. He opened the first aid kit wide on the bed. His knee folded up on the bed pressed alongside her leg. Jolie leaned back to give him access to her chest and gazed at him. He'd taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. Her eye's slid down his body to notice he'd even removed his shoes and socks. It seemed like vulnerability for him to expose his feet to her. Jolie shook her head at that weird thought and instead took up her time watching his hands confidently bandage her. He moved through the motions quickly and kindly. He must do this often, Jolie thought to herself as she winced when he wiped alcohol over a particularly nasty scrape. After the disinfectant he pulled out a tube of antiseptic pain reliever. It shouldn't have been sexy. Jolie shouldn't have felt a thing through the pain, especially not on a place she'd been abused. However, she couldn't stop the shivers with every touch of Terry's hands. What started out clinical was slowly turning erotic. Terry lightly held her breasts with both hand lifting the weight from her chest while his thumbs brushed the gel over the many small injuries. Jolie felt her eyelids flutter shut. She leaned forward until her forehead bumped into his chest. His thumbs brushed the tops of her nipples and she hissed in a breath. Terry was infinitely gentle at twisting the piercing bars.

"Does it hurt too much?" His words breathed into her hair.

Jolie shook her head without losing contact with him. His hands slid from her. She pressed forward into him and looked up with a pleading expression she wouldn't have recognized if she could've seen her face just then. Terry caressed her lips with his knuckles softly. Her tongue reached out against her will to flick against his fingers. His middle finger found its way between her lips. She sucked him into her mouth softly. Desire pooled in his eyes. Jolie took the time to wrap her tongue around the intruding digit before pulling back slowly so it popped out of her mouth. He seemed on cusp of taking her but backed off at the last second. Instead, Terry spent the next minute putting bandages on her with a single-minded focus. Jolie brushed aside her disappointment.

"You can put on the clothes now," He turned from her to put the first aid kit back to rights.

Jolie nodded and did as he said. The cloth didn't hurt her and it felt like the medicine was kicking in because she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep her eyes open in a few moments. Drowsiness had her swaying on the bed.

"Scoot back," Terry herded her beneath the bedding. Jolie felt his head brush back her hair. The lights went dark beyond her eyelids and she fell asleep to the lulling sound of air conditioning.

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"Which one?" Marco snarled at Max.

"Let's just get the bitchy one from last time," Max tossed his words with a wave of his hands.

"Is that the one named Marissa?" Jamal asked.

All three men were back in the room with a one-way mirror used to observe the Products sold by Nightshade. The line-up was still well-stocked but none of the women interested the men much. All of them were still thinking back on the Products they'd left back at home base.

Jamal thought fondly of Jolie but didn't particularly miss her, he knew the Boss would get more mileage from her than he and Marco would.

Marco gritted his teeth at the thought of his new Product being taken from him so soon. However, he couldn't be too upset. The Boss was smart and generous. He hadn't much cared for the lost woman since he'd just replace her. Marco was pissed at Darrien getting to keep his toy all to himself and not allowing her to be put to use for their Business. He focused his anger with plans to torture their new Product.

Max thought about Tessa but not in any way that could be considered pleasant. His feelings were well hidden behind the mask of his biting personality.

"We'll take the angry cunt," Max gestured to where Marissa had just finished her acrobatic presentation. The showman seemed pleased that they were back so soon. He also had a thankful air that they'd be taking that particular Product off their hands.

"Would you like to test her?" The showman asked.

"We'll test her on our journey back. Don't give her any clothes. Maybe just the leather straps we'd looked at last time." Marco nodded now that everything was decided.

"I'll cover payment and paperwork, you two can go ahead," Jamal told them before intercepting the white-suited showman.

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Darrien sat still and silent. Every fiber of his being was focused through the scope of his gun. The dossier the Boss had given him said that their sources followed this target to this same location every week. They'd done all the dirty work of stalking, waiting, and snooping. Darrien's job was just to tidy up all that work in a body bag. He knew that Tessa probably wouldn't look at him the same if she knew what he did to afford a present like her. Something twinged somewhere in the area of his heart but he brushed the feeling aside. His job gave him a sense of pride. Working for the Boss was an honor and one he'd worked hard up through the ranks and grueling training to earn. He had plans for Tessa and she was filling them perfectly. He'd been worried when they'd gone to Nightshade for Products. Darrien had taken one look at the pretentious place and had misgivings that he'd find someone to suit his particular need. However, all that disappeared when he saw their Tester. What better way to fill that spot than with her? Darrien put aside his musings when the door of the brothel across the street opened to emit the target alongside his bodyguards and three very drunk or drugged women. It was a matter of seconds for him to realign the shot and double check his data to make sure everything would go smoothly. Then he squeezed the trigger gently and did his job, a damn good job at that.

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Tessa woke slowly. Her body ached strangely but pleasantly. She stretched like a cat beneath the covers before burying her face in the softest pillow she'd ever felt. This room was new to her. Darrien and her had christened the plane bed, the living room couch, and the shower stall but not yet his bed. It seemed mildly ironic that the one place they hadn't done anything sexual was his bed. She peeked open an eye to survey her new home. Assuming that Darrien would keep her now that he'd used her thoroughly maybe he'd let her stay in his apartment. Tessa knew some of the other Products spoke about women who'd been given to men that kept them in separate residences altogether let alone separate rooms. It felt selfish to desire a spot in his personal space. She thought that Darrien might be willing to have her stay with him permanently. He had good taste in furnishings at least. The room was painted olive green with red wood accents, giving it a surprisingly earthy essence. His bedding was shades of green and he had a large standing dresser, two night tables, a small chair, lamps, and bookcases. She felt most drawn to the books. Tessa forced her lethargic body from the bed. Ignoring her nudity she traced the book spines with cautious fingers. There was even a jade tiger statuette. Tessa flashed back to the green tiger tie that Darrien had worn. A green tiger was strange but suited Darrien well in her mind. Deadly, mysterious, strong, calm; all traits that he exuded. She felt a small misgiving that she may've been taken in by someone far outside her level. Tessa tossed the doubt to the wind and went back to admiring the books.

"The Art of War, not surprising. Torture Tactics of Medieval Ages, Modern Weaponry and it's Care, The Skill of Dominance. Hmmm, what's inside you?" Tessa asked the book aloud. She pulled out the thin volume and briefly flipped through the pages. No pictures and very small print make for a dense book. She paged back to the Page of Contents and slid a finger down over the chapters. "Predispositions, evolution, control, ritual, structure...that's mildly confusing."

Tessa curled up on the bed and started reading. Hours passed and knowledge filtered through her with a rush of epiphanies. Everything in this book had been used against her at one point in time or another. All these techniques used to control her and break her will into something biddable were written down with chapters and bullet points and case studies. By the end of the book the room had grown dark. The light that had filtered through the windows had dwindled and Tessa felt different. Did she still want the same things? She had wanted so much to be owned, to be desired, wanted, and maybe loved just a little. It had always been so far beyond her imagination when she'd been a Tester. Orphaned, bullied, and abandoned to a fate with no hope aside survival, Tessa didn't know what to do with the idea that she was controlled and that she could break that shell. She could be something different, someone different. All she had to do was use the book. Dominance was the key, Tessa could play coy. She could be soft and simple. Then she could gather supplies, knowledge, support. Tessa could leave... but did she want to?

She sat there in the growing dark, the book held between her hands like a treasure, and she thought.

To be continued...