Where Monsters Hide

  YOLANDA OLSON

  Contents

  1. Orla

  2. Orla

  3. Alex

  4. Kase

  5. Orla

  6. Alex

  7. Kase

  8. Orla

  9. Alex

  10. Kase

  11. Orla

  12. Kase

  13. Alex

  14. Orla

  15. Kase

  16. Alex

  17. Orla

  18. Kase

  19. Alex

  20. Orla

  21. Kase

  22. Orla

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2024 Yolanda Olson.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  CHAPTER 1

  Orla

  The noise was something that I knew I would never get used to. The creaking of the mattress as he fucked him in the bed above me. They kept me safely tucked away in an oak wooden coffin he had built out of before I arrived, and whenever they felt like using me, I could see daylight.

  “Welcome to your new home,” he said with a sadistic smile. “When we say this is over, we already have a cozy place picked out for you. And as you can see, I was thoughtful enough to build your little death box ahead of time.”

  The sentiment came crashing back over me as he let out a loud moan. I always thought that he sounded like a dying horse when he fucked him, but I had yet to say it out loud. I sighed as I heard flesh slapping against flesh intensify and turned my thoughts away from the debauchery above me. Of course, this wasn’t always where he put me, only when he saw it fit to crawl into that hole of his for as long as he could stand it would I have the privilege of being beneath them.

  He told me that’s where I belonged the first time; he put me there because I was nothing like him and he’d never love a whore like me. I think that jealousy made him the crueler of the pair because he could choose to be gentle whenever he wanted to, but he always treated me like nothing more than a stray bitch that he used to get his rocks off with when he felt like using someone that wasn’t him. A different mouth to suck his cock. Different holes for him to fuck.

  I took a breath and did my best to exhale silently. The rope around my wrists, ankles, and neck felt tighter today for some reason. Drawing attention to myself would remind them that I was here, and I found solace in the days that they would forget about me. Even though I would be ravenous with hunger, have the stench of sweat caking my skin, and have suffered more infections from holding onto my piss for as long as I could manage, it wasn’t as bad being alone.

  It was just the sound of him howling as he plowed into him that made my teeth itch. He was putting on a show for him, and I always thought that these were his attempts to make me remember who the head bitch of this house was and always would be.

  Until I change his mind, I thought as I turned my head slightly to the right and closed my eyes. Or at the very least, until I died.

  CHAPTER 2

  Orla

  They fell asleep a while ago, though I don’t know exactly how long, and I was still tucked neatly under their bed. I wondered why they left me here. Usually, I would be made to strip their bed, put the sheets in my box, and sleep in them as they stood me purposely upside down in the closet. He never left me like that for too long. He just liked the way it made me dizzy and docile enough for him to fuck without a fight. I hated myself more than either of them because I still hadn’t figured out a way to keep my bearings during those times.

  A small act of mercy is better than none at all, I reasoned as I gently raked my broken fingernails along the jagged wood. I refused to beg for his mercy, so he would do little things like this, unknowingly bestowing it in quiet moments. He would also withhold death after every vile mistreatment. He wanted me to scream the words aloud; he wanted me to beg, and I refused to do so. Of course, he didn’t know it yet, but he was turning me into something … feral. At the right time, I would find a way to show him that he was no monster at all, but he managed to shape one out of everything he claimed to be.

  Every new bruise hardened me.

  Every forced kiss turned me colder.

  Every time they held me down for each other’s pleasure and violated me, another piece of me that was human died. I let a breath out and did my best not to think about the monsters in the bed above me. In a way, I secretly hoped that they would forget I was here. That they’d leave me to rot and die neatly packed in my little, homemade container, forgetting that I had ever been here at all.

  When I was stolen for this, I thought I would find happiness in the tumultuous storm that had been wrought upon me. That the sins of my father wouldn’t have travelled so far with me. Sins I had never committed nor was privy to, but vengeance seems to be everlasting in some bloodlines and now here I lie.

  A memory for a memory.

  A death for a life.

  A slave to his rage, his jealousy, and a martyr for my father’s sins.

  The mattress springs above me creaked gently as someone shifted above me. Comfort was something they always ensured they had. Something they made sure was the last thing I would ever feel. I closed my eyes and told myself that if making me a prisoner to their deviance, let them sleep so well at night, then perhaps I should have just gathered my strength. Tomorrow was going to be much worse than the day before because they seemingly forgot about me, so I knew that they would make up for it.

  Me.

  Their dirty, useless girl in her death box.

  CHAPTER 3

  Alex

  God, it smells, I thought as I wrinkled my nose. Kase shifted slightly with his arm still draped across me, then turned his face away. I always thought that I had been so lucky that he chose me because I never thought I was someone that would end up with a guy like him. The first time I met him, his serious light brown eyes softened slightly when they locked on mine. He slowly slicked his messy black hair back with his hand, and his lips curved up into a smile. I remember looking to my left and right. Behind me, then in front of me, so sure that he had been looking at someone else. Then when he started to make his way toward me, the smile still on his boyish, handsome face, skin as white as pallor and as smooth as porcelain, his eyes still locked on mine, I knew that he had picked me. Out of all the women gathered at Club Escape that night, desperately trying to get the attention of men, writhing against their bodies as the music pulsated through the dance floor. He had picked me.

  The following days were a haze of lust, the high life, and being made to feel like the only girl in the world. He spoiled me rotten with his affection until lust finally turned to love. Mine, not his. Kase Stokes never loved anyone but himself, though some nights as he lay sleeping next to me, I liked to pretend that he did. And that it was me that he loved most of all.

  More than himself.

  More than money.

  More than his father.

  Until she came.

  Until he started to treat her the same way, he treated me when he first chose me to be his. I hated him for it, but I hated her even more, so I changed his mind. I knew that Kase had a plan because he told me about it in a moment of rage. Apparently, the whore’s father had caused some kind of business merger to go south, causing his father’s life to be put on the line by people that he answered to. Men who belonged to a dangerous organization of criminals that didn’t like to lose, as he put it. No matter how desperately he wanted to be just like those men, he always had a crack in his armor, and his soft heart sometimes beat through it. At first, she was nothing more than a chore to house. She was made to keep the house clean, cook the meals, sleep outside in a shed that was barely standing, and was never left inside longer than her duties required.

  I think it was the night that he stood in the bedroom window, jaw tightened so much I was afraid that he’d break his teeth, that he heard her crying outside. She was under our window, pulling weeds from the garden because I had ordered her to do so. Her hands were bloodied, scraped, and bruised, and I told her not to stop until the entire yard had been weeded. I didn’t care that she was tired and desperate for sleep. Kase had been the same way since his father had been killed.

  But then I noticed, he wasn’t sticking to his plan to use and destroy her, and I had to remind him of what her father had done to his family. His father’s death led to his mother’s suicide. His father’s death led to his brother getting hooked on drugs and overdosing. His father’s death made him an orphan at sixteen years old, and someone had to pay the price. And even though he had suffered so many fucking losses, I couldn’t help but think that they all led him to me.

  Where he always belonged, I thought as I glanced at him. A soft sigh escaped Kase as he smacked his lips together in his sleep, causing me to smile. It was his little quirks that made me love him so damn much, and I wondered if I would ever have one of my own that would finally root his soul to mine. I reached over and gently caressed his hair until he fell soundly back to sle ep again, thinking of the stinking bitch beneath us. She was his enemy—our enemy—and I was going to make damn sure that he remembered that when the sun rose in the morning.

  CHAPTER 4

  Kase

  Alex gets up and heads to the bathroom. I watch his tight bubble butt move as he walks, and my cock begins to stir again. I never get tired of that warm hole. My attention shifts to the girl in the coffin underneath the bed. I lay still and listen for her breathing. I hear nothing. It doesn't disturb me because I know she's ok. Her prison was designed to be too uncomfortable for death - no matter how hard she might pray for it. She's learning. It displeases me. I want her to suffer, to know the pain I live with every day. If I had my way, it would be her father in that box, but that's not how things play out in my world. Fucking the old man within an inch of his life would be satisfying, but ultimately show weakness and flaws. No matter how humiliation or suffering I cause him, it wouldn't help because I've learned that people bear pain easier when it's inflicted on them instead of those they love, and he loves his daughter. That's why I demanded her as compensation. He refused to sign her up to the Wife for Hire agency, but his wife wasn't as reluctant. She knew that it was the girl or their lifestyle. Cold-hearted bitch.

  My mind comes back to the room and to the girl. Her silence unnerved me, and I needed her afraid. I need her screaming and tortured. If she just gave up or adjusted to stay under the radar, there would be no vengeance or joy in that for me. I move off the bed silently and feel the bare marble tile on my warm feet. Cum still drips from my semi-hard cock. I cross the room silently and make my way to the closet. The one she dreads. I retrieve the Heretics Fork and go back to the bedroom. Trying to recall what it said on the agency form about her fears. I reach for my phone and find the sound I need. My finger slides over the play icon, and the quiet room is filled with the sound of hissing and slithering. I hear her breathing become heavier and I get excited. She's trying to stay in control, and I need to take it from her. I remove the pillowcase and drag the heavy beaded material across the floor, occasionally grazing the box as I go. I can hear the breathing increase and her thuds as she moves away from the sound. There's nothing more terrifying than out-of-place sounds in the dark. I move the phone closer and take the fork and scratch against the wood. She screams and my hard-on pulsates. I pull the box out from under the bed and rip it open. She lets an aching, terrified scream. The smell of her waste and sweat hit me like a smack. I recoil.

  "Weren't you told to stay quiet?" I scream at her. Alex's laughs echo in the bathroom even from the shower.

  "I'm sorry..." Her eyes are pleading, but she finds no mercy in the eyes looking back at her.

  "SHUT UP!" I scream. She stops talking but can't control the sobbing. I take the fork by the collar and loosen the catch. "Maybe this will help you!" She doesn't speak, but the begging and side-to-side shaking of her head make what she wants obvious. I ignore her and fasten the collar around her neck and position the fork under her chin. She calms down instantly, out of self-preservation. The points of the fork cause dimples and reddening of the skin, and she has to stretch her neck to find relief. I slam the lid of her death box shut and push it back under the bed. Her whimpering is all the push I need to find release for my aching cock. I follow it like a divining rod to the hole I know is always ready to welcome it. I climb in behind Alex and immediately he grinds his soapy ass into me. He's been waiting for me. He's prepared himself for me and within minutes will devour me, large headfirst and then all nine inches. I look at myself in the small mirror underneath the shower head and love the way my face contorts with pleasure at the ecstasy of his tight hole spasming with pleasure with each thrust. The harder I fucked him, the more he spasmed. His blonde hair is wet and clinging to the sides of his face like an athlete drenched in sweat instead of hot water. He breathes heavily but his moans are not as loud as before, so I thrust myself into him balls deep. Through the second wall and he lets out a guttural scream. It makes me even harder and when I pull out, he quivers and half sighs with relief and pleasure. My pumping continues slower, more teasing, and then I pump faster and deeper as he moans and screams.

  "Play with your cock. Get hard for me." I whisper in his ear, and he obliges. He strokes himself and soon his cock is hard and leaking milk. "Come for me. I want you to come while I'm fucking you." I instruct him. He starts working his cock faster and faster until we're in rhythm and after a few minutes, he shoots his load all over the terracotta tile. I watch the white milk splatter in bursts across the wall and the simultaneous twitching of his prostate on my cock pushes me over. I cum inside him as I lift my hand to his mouth, and he suckles my thumb the way I like. We shower together and he washes my black hair and massages my scalp. When we're done, he gets out first. Wrinkled from being in the water for so long. It's more than we can say about the girl in there.

  "She needs to clean herself and the box too." I say to Alex.

  "Yes. The smell is horrible -when you open it. Tomorrow. When you're at work, I'll have her do it." He says.

  "Thank you." I smile in appreciation. "I suppose you'd better prepare her for the dinner on Tuesday. When she makes her first appearance."

  "Do you think that's wise? Aren't you afraid she'll betray you or talk about us?" He asks.

  "There's only one way to find out. Besides, she knows what's at stake if she lets me down and there'll be no better time to take her for a test drive. Her father's spies will be there, and I want them to tell him. What's the point of her suffering if he doesn't know about it?" I finish and catch sight of a smile cross Alex's face. He loves her suffering. I wonder if it's because it makes me happy or for his own reasons.

  CHAPTER 5

  Orla

  My neck aches and I struggle to sleep with the device poking the thin skin above my throat. I hear them return from the shower and pray silently that they will let me out, if only for a moment. If only to clean myself. I can't endure my stink anymore. They crawl into bed and in a matter of minutes; I hear their sleep sounds. Alex snores while Kase has a soft and slow, melodic hum to his sleep. My arms are pressed against the sides of the box, but they're free. I try to make as little sound as possible as I wriggle to free one and raise it to my neck. I move the device a little to the side of my face. The feeling of relief almost makes me feel grateful. I can't believe that I'm feeling grateful for not being in extreme pain even while I'm still confined and in less pain. I know that I should try to get some sleep, but the fear of the horrors that await me tomorrow makes sleep a dream. The smell of ammonia from my piss burns my nostrils and stings my eyes. I can't see anything in front of me and can only feel be my breath as it ricochets off the lid of this coffin.

  Iwake when I feel the coffin being pulled and scramble to move the device back into position. It's not as easy as I thought, but the fear of what the consequences will be for removing it makes me careless. I pierce my skin trying to position it, but I swallow the pain and focus on looking as though it's been in that position all night. I pray that it's Kase who opens the box and not Alex. Even though he's the one who put this thing on me as a punishment for screaming in terror -he's still the kinder of the two. I've come to live with a very broad definition of kindness in my time here. This was a harsh and unforgiving place and kindness was sometimes food, water or even a few minutes between horrors. God forgive me but I hate my father for this and curse my mother for bringing me into the world only to endure this as my fate. A lifetime spent paying for sins that aren't my own. I didn't kill Kase's father or cause him to be killed, but I have to serve the sentence. The fact that this betrayal is at my father's hands is all the more painful. I know things happen in business, especially his business, but to give me away as collateral without a thought of what these deranged men would subject to me is hard to bear.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6