Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 169

felt good.

She gave my cock a couple of light pumps as she waited for me to respond, and I did my best to remain as stoic as possible. Once her movements halted, took a deep breath and said, "I'm not giving you a goddamn thing till I see Emily and Natashya."

"No," she replied.

"Then you won't get anything from me," I said through gritted teeth.

She was silent for a long moment, but she stayed close; I could feel her warm breath on my face and her hand still gripping my cock. Then she started slowly pumping it again, saying, "I don't think you understand, Mr. Upton. Not only could this be a much more pleasant experience for you, but also for your sister and girifriend."

"I'm not-"

She cut me off, "You're currently being held by mercenaries. Unscrupulous individuals with morals that can be bought and sold to the highest bidder. They've been tasked with keeping you alive. No orders were given regarding your sister or Natashya except to ensure they're kept alive. Without any other detalled orders, what do you think men like these are capable of?"

I felt the blood drain from my face as I processed what this woman was saying. Horrible scenarios began playing in my mind - images of Natashya, Emily, and a dozen jacked men with tendencies toward violence and aggression. As if on cue, the woman holding my cock squeezed it lightly and picked up the pace as she continued to jack me off.

"I can assure you, Mr. Upton," she said, her voice low and husky while still maintaining a certain level of frigidity. "I've seen their tears with my own eyes. They're not having a good time, and that will continue until you decide to give me what I want. How much pain and suffering they endure is entirely up to you."

Fuck. If she was speaking the truth, then that meant that the longer this continued, the more responsible I was for whatever was happening to the girls. Regardless of whether she was bluffing or not, I had to put a stop to this.

She gave my cock another little squeeze, "And despite that knowledge, you're allowing yourself to fall prey to your baser instincts. Tell me, does the thought of several men taking advantage of Emily and Natashya turn you on?"

"I don't have it?" breathed, trying to ignore the sensations pulsing through my member

"Don't have what," she asked.

"The flash drive! I don't have it!"

She sighed, her breath rolling over my face, then said, "Their continued suffering is your fault, Mr. Upton." She still kept up the pace as she handled my dick.

"I don't have it!" I repeated. "I haven't seen onel I don't know anything about it! Who the fuck even uses flash drives anyway? My grandpa probably owns his own cloud service!"

She kept stroking me without responding, and any seductive quality this scenario had was quickly evaporating with each passing moment, with the thought that I could be responsible for ruining the lives of two people i seriously cared about.

"I don't fucking have it!" I bellowed again.

"I don't believe you," she said. "You offered an exchange."

"Because I was trying to get you to let me see my friends, you psychotic bitch," I said, laughing in pure disbelief at the situation. "What the fuck else was supposed to do?"

"You inherited everything," she said, her tone even more frosty than previously.

"Maybe I did inherit it. Maybe it's sitting in a drawer somewhere!"

"No. It would have been left in your safekeeping. Your grandfather wouldn't have simply left it unattended."

"Have you met the guy? He just dropped billions of dollars in my lap without so much as a fucking letter!"

"If you think I'm lying about your sister and girlfriend," she said, and I could detect a hint of heat in her frigid tone. "I'm not."

"I'm telling you the truth," I insisted, and we could both tell that my hard-on was beginning to deflate in my frustration over the situation. No... not frustration near panic. I had gambled and tried to use the one piece of leverage I had over them to try to confirm whether or not they really had my friends, and this cold bitch called my bluff. Natashya really had been right, I didn't have a poker face.

The hand on my dick slowed to a halt and then disappeared. I felt the weight of her breasts on my shoulder dissipate entirely as she straightened. The clack of heels on concrete echoed through the room as she circled around me and headed toward the door

"Hey!" I called out. "Wait! What about my friends!?"

There was no response. I heard the door open and then slam shut.

I let out a wordless scream in pure and utter frustration, pulling against my bonds in a futile effort to break free.

"Emily! Hey! What about my friends! Natashya! Emily!"

The only response I got was the echo of my own voice as it bounced off the walls. I was truly and utterly alone, left only with the hope that the mystery woman had been lying to me the entire time. I could never forgive myself if the girls were being harmed because of me. I pulled again at my restraints, once again failing to accomplish anything.

"Fuck!"

Naked, hurting, and terrified for the others, the next hour was one of the longest of my life. Intrusive thoughts kept invading my mind, and it was all I could do to chase them away, choosing to dwell on figuring out how to get out of here. I'd seen movies where people dislocated their thumbs to get out of cuffs, and I'd tried to imitate it, but all I'd succeeded in doing was rubbing my wrists raw on the cuffs and probably giving myself early onset arthritis in my right hand.

I kept wondering what was going to happen to me. Would they kill me once they realized that I didn't know anything about a stupid flash drive? Would they just ask for money instead? How would I get the money to them? Once they had the money, would they let me go or just kill me anyway? had to keep thinking about what they would do to me because every time I even considered what might happen to the girls, I felt my eyes sting. More than once, I'd choked up at the possibilities of what they might be doing to the girls. At least the blindfold soaked up the tears.

"Come on, Marcus," I muttered, trying to keep myself from crying by focusing on trying to come up with a different solution. "You can't do this. You can't fall apart. You can't"