Jessa James - Control

Whatever that was, it’s gone now.

My guard leads me out of my cell by the arm, and I go, utterly docile.

3

As my two enforcers ride in the front seats, I sit in the back seat of the SUV, my fingers tented. I stare pensively out the window. After a wild three days of almost nonstop negotiating and threatening, I’ve finally managed to find her.

Katherine Carolla, the wretched daughter of Sal Carolla.

See, Sal wouldn’t give up his daughter’s location, even when my booted foot was on his neck, my gun pointed to his temple. I admit I was in a little bit of awe of him, of that kind of stubborn protectiveness. Of course, I killed him anyway, but I still admired it.

Then I found out that the real reason old Sal wouldn’t fess up to hiding pretty little Katherine is that he sold her to a very exclusive private auctioneer.

He sold her.

Like she wasn’t his daughter. As if she was just an asset to him, and he was just biding his time, keeping her hidden until he could profit from her unveiling.

When I found out, I was so surprised I actually laughed out loud.

As it turns out, little Katherine wasn’t being protected by her daddy after all. Her daddy was protecting someone who Sal knew would dress up his daughter and sell her to the highest bidder. A person whom, it was assumed, would rape her thousands of times. Or pass her around to his friends, maybe.

Or just plain kill her.

If I was capable of feeling such a thing, I would almost feel sorry for Kathrine.

Almost.

Too bad she was a Carolla. She would be made to pay, as Anna had paid. Except I had bigger plans for Katherine…

Plans that involved breaking her, body and soul. Using a special blend of physical labor, torture, and sex to brainwash her. To torment her into thinking whatever I want her to think.

She hasn’t even laid eyes on me yet, but her mind and body are mine .

Then I can trot her out at strategic intervals, namely, to scare the shit out of my rivals. My perfect little pet, all dark and twisty. I get a little hard right here in the car, just thinking about ruining her body, crushing her spirit.

My enforcer Denis pulls into a gated area that surrounds what looks like a beige airplane hangar, closed on all four sides. The building is isolated from everything else, no structure is even close to it. Denis pulls up to a security checkpoint, presenting my invitation to the auction to the armed guard.

An invitation that I had to pull in several favors to receive.

The guard looks at me, looks at Denis and Roget, and then waves us through. A valet attendant directs us to pull up at an unmarked door. I get out of the car, stretching a little bit. I look at my two enforcers, who are scanning the entire parking lot and the entrance for threats.

I consider myself tall and broad, at a little over six feet. Denis and Roget are fucking enormous though, each six and a half feet tall and built like twin lumberjacks.

Well, if lumberjacks dressed in trench coats and were armed to the fucking teeth, that is.

“This way, gentlemen, if you will?” a man says, bowing as he opens the door.

I lead the way inside, blinking at the darkness. We step into a small space, lit only by a heavy-duty flashlight.

“Gentlemen, if you will find a mask?” the man says, gesturing to a table full of identical black face masks.

Roget grabs three masks, and I take mine from him. After he and Denis slide their masks on, I pull mine on as well. We all look at each other, at the almost comical erasure of our most distinguishing features.

“Grim,” Denis says. Roget just grunts and adjusts his heavy jacket.

“Right this way,” the man says, sweeping a door open and motioning inside. “You’re among the last to arrive. I’m afraid we will have to seat you near the back.”

That wasn’t a miscalculation on my part; I want to be in the back, engulfed in shadows. The man hurries in front of me, his footsteps light on the bare concrete. He leads the way into the main room, trying to be respectful of the fact that the show has already started.

About fifteen men stand in little clumps, their attention glued to the girl being led up onto a raised platform by a masked man in black. The girl is wretched, her skin sallow and her bones all but showing through her dress. She’s also high as a fucking kite, her eyes large and glassy, her mouth so dry it’s cracked in a few places.

“This is Selina… She starts at $10,000…” the man announces in a high-pitched voice.

Immediately, two hands shoot up.

“Alright, I’ve got twelve thousand…” the man says.

More hands go up.

I relax a little, rolling my shoulders. I’m not here for just any girl, so I can tune out the bidding war. All I have to do is not become impatient and lose my temper with anyone here before Katherine Carolla is called up.

Easy enough, as long as the other men keep their distance.

While I wait, I bide my time by thinking about the girl.

Katherine.

I hate that name. One of the first things I’m going to do is make her wear my chains…

And the second thing is to rename her. Something more fitting to her new station.

Like Slave. Or Servant.

My lips curve upward in the cruelest secret smile.

I’m going to take her to my compound, far away from here. There, I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. I am like a king on my compound.

Then I’m going to enjoy slowly breaking her bones and swiftly crushing her spirit. Let her know that I have killed her family; let her know that no one is coming to save her. When she weeps for her father and brothers, I will whip her for caring that they existed.

I tighten my fists. It is her fault for being born a Carolla. Her fault that they are all dirty, tainted fucking losers.

Scratch that… were losers. I’ve pretty much ticked every one of them off my list of people to kill. I eviscerated each one of the bastards back there in the warehouse, and I did it with a smile.

Their dead eyes stared back at me as I laughed. They all learned not to fuck with what I call mine…

I picture Anna, her mouth open in a surreal display of surprise. Even if she was just some whore, she was still my whore. My property. Mine .

I push the memory down. There are other things to focus on, like the way it will sound when I snap the cuffs closed on Katherine’s wrists. I focus on that, tuning out the bidding for the next girl, and the next.

Of course, I will have to buy Katherine. A lot of money, if these sad looking girls are anything to judge by.

And because she made it so difficult for me to find her, she is going to really suffer. Much more than if she’d simply been present the day I murdered her family.

A thought comes into my head.

A confession. I could make her sign a confession, of her own free will. Owning up to everything that her family did that displeased me, including Anna’s death.

That would be fun.

After I’ve stripped her of her will to live, she will beg me for the release that death brings. Just like the others did.

And then I’ll choke her, slowly. I will be the one to see the light leave her eyes, see her entire being flicker out of existence.

That moment… that moment will be so, so sweet.

Across the room, the dull brunette slave currently being auctioned off collapses. No one overreacts, which is kind of strange. The auctioneer just calls the last bidder the winner, while another burly man in a mask comes and gathers the girl up, throwing her over his shoulder almost carelessly.

“Katherine is our next girl,” the auctioneer buzzes. “Bring out Katherine.”