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The conversation was extremely dull, all cigars, money and brandy. The food that the man in white brought to me sat untouched on the table in front of me. I, too, just sat there, staring at the sky and clouds outside of the private plane through the bubbles in my champagne glass.

I had not noticed that he had made a light quip at my expense. I had not noticed that I did not laugh. I most certainly had not noticed the way his eyes narrowed and his lip curled when he said my name for a third time.

It was the sharp tap on my arm that brought me back to this grey reality. I turned slowly as he said my name again, my eyes glazed over with the thoughts of my own little world. He taps his finger on the oak in front of him and regains composure as he turns to his comrades and huffs off my daydreaming with a chuckle. Inside, I could tell . . . He was seething.

"Are you alright, darling? You haven’t even touched your meal." He asks me in a velvety tone, which I know is laced with nightshade.

"I'm fine," I reply curtly without the realization of how the words had come out.

"If you are so fine, then why aren't you eating?" He returns.

"Not hungry," That's it. Now I am just being plain rude, but I can't bring myself to care. I don't want to be here. I don't want to listen to the conversations about investments or golf clubs or cuff links. I would rather be anywhere in the world, even with him, then here right now listening to these men drone on about their wasteful lives.

"You must be tired," he is ever so struggling to keep control. "Why don't you go lay down?"

Quite impulsively, my reply is simply "Fine." and I remove myself without another word in a dramatic swish of burgundy fabric.

I hear him excuse himself to come after me before I even close the door to the sleeping cabin, but I find myself swinging it shut after me anyhow. I throw myself on the bed for I have nowhere else to go. The restroom has no lock on it, he would just drag me out by my hair.

The door inches open. I see his fingers curl around the door frame. "Sweetness?" He asks from behind the door. I ignore him.

Within a second he is in the room, the door is shut and he is crouching in front of me, noses almost touching.

"Who the fuck do you think you are talking to, little girl?" He growls in my ear, his voice so low. I can't respond. I stare into his eyes for a brief moment, and then bury my face in my pillow.

I can feel his eyes narrowing and burning into me, drawing out my very soul. He runs his fingers thru my hair. When he gets to the base of my neck, he twists his fingers and snatches up a large chunk of my curls. With his other hand, he is undoing his belt and pulling his zipper down with impeccable skill.

"You wanna act like a little brat with a stick up her ass? Well, I don't want to make a liar out of you." He hisses in my ear.

With his hand still knotted in my hair, he pushes my face into the pillow. I struggle to breathe as he pushes my knees up under my belly. My dress slides up my body as he arches my back with my ass in the air, displaying myself to him. Just the way he likes it, out and open for anyone to see. No panties allowed.

I'm wet. I can tell. Why can't I control myself? Why does he do this to me? I hate him and I worship him all at once, like some strange case of Stockholm's Syndrome.

He brushes the head of his penis over my clit. I shudder. I try to wiggle my way out of this vice grip that I am in. My head is swimming and he keeps me hovering on the brink of consciousness.

"Look at you, my little slut," he thrusts into me deeply and swiftly removes himself, as to not allow me to become acclimated to his member. It hurts when it stretches me and I choke out a gasp.

"You just like to play games with me, don't you? You just wanted Daddy's dick and did whatever you could to get it." he continues. He yanks my head up by my hair and angles my face so that he can see my expression from behind. I felt a pressure on my . . . rosebud. My eyes popped open with the horrid realization and I could just barely make out the sadistic little smile that had crept across his face as he plunged deeply into me. He whispers in my ear, "Misbehaving only gets you punished, dear."

I bit my lip so hard within the first three or four thrusts that I could taste the blood. I was not ready for the attack, albeit, I should have been. He normally makes sure to drop a couple of cryptic hints here and there for his own amusement. Unless, I am being actively punished. In which case, he is very blunt. It is at those moments that he wants me to be fully aware of just how I have displeased him. But right now, with this assault, he is merely annoyed but it is all a part of the bigger game that he is playing.

He can't hit me without making noise and alerting his brethren to the intimacies going on behind the door. He is reminding me vigorously with each thrust that I am lucky that this is all I am getting. He chuckled at the sight of the blood on my lip and the crocodile tear, big and ugly, falling down my face.

His voice so low, I can barely hear him, this is when it is the most frightening. "Go ahead, baby, make a noise. I will make sure that you will never forget it."

I can feel the intrusive, unwelcome object in my ass grow harder, more rigid even. He was about to come. He trusts into me one last time and gyrates his hips to get in a deep as possible before he pulls out of me entirely.

He walked to the restroom to rinse himself off. I situated myself upright on the bed as he rubbed himself clean.

The water stopped running and he looked to me. Sauntering over, he stood before me. I was nothing but a mess. I sat on the bed sobbing quietly with my dress bunched around my waist, my ass stinging from his violation. I cried big ugly tears, choking sobs as I looked up at him thru my clumpy eyelashes. I was still silent, minus a sniffle here or there. I wouldn't dare make a noise with his company just feet from us, especially after his threats. I know what he is capable of.

He liked it when I cried like this. He cocked his head to the side with his devilish smile and surveyed me. No doubt judging if he could get away with more. After another moment he sighed, kissed my lips and suckled my lower lip and licked the blood from it. He then took my hand only to place it on his member.

"Every part of you tastes delicious," he grins as he licks the last remaining drop of my blood from his lips. "Do you promise not to do that again?"

I didn't budge. I looked out the window, not saying a word.

He lashed out at me like a snake. Grabbing up my hair and pulling me up off the bed by my head. He looked at me with knowing eyes. I was breaking.

"Yes ... Sir." I choked out, trying my best at the pouty punished girl bit.

"That's my good girl. Now suck Daddy off so he can get back to his guests."