Belle Unbound Pt. 13

Thanks to the lovely regular readers and the lovely comment and messages. This is one for the fans as there's a lot that happens in this chapter. But I just couldn't break it up and leave you all on edge.

If you're just joining Belle's story, or need a catch up, here's what you need to know:

Somewhere out past the dusty roads of 1990s Mississippi, far from curious neighbors or the safety of town, Billy's life was quietly stolen and replaced with someone new--Belle.

The change wasn't his choice. But over time, resistance gave way to survival, and survival began to feel a lot like desire. Now, Belle isn't just a pawn in her twisted neighbor Mr. Carver's game--she's learning to play. And she's playing to win.

Carver introduced her to the Circle, a powerful, secretive network of men who collect and control girls like her. That's where she met Red: bold, angry, beautiful--and owned by the local police chief. In one stolen day, Belle and Red found something fierce between them. Friendship. Maybe even love. And with it, the beginning of a plan.

At the lodge, where the girls are trained and tested, Belle discovered a secret surveillance room--hundreds of tapes capturing powerful men in compromising moments. These recordings are how the Circle keeps control. How they grow their influence. But Belle and Red stole them.

To get them into the right hands, Belle needed a sliver of freedom. So she did what Carver asked: she seduced Maxwell Tierney. She hated it. She almost liked it. And she survived it.

It earned her a single day off. Just enough to meet Tyler.

She was terrified he'd hate her--hate what she'd become. But instead, he held her. Listened. Loved her. And when she handed him the stolen tapes, he proved she was right to trust him.

He confronted his father, Senator Hargrove, with the truth of what he'd done. And to Tyler's shock, the man broke. Full of shame and regret, he contacted the FBI. With Tyler's help, the tapes are now in federal hands. A case is building. Names are being taken. The net is closing.

But Belle doesn't know that yet.

She's been summoned to see the Chief--the man who owns Red. The nastiest man Belle has had the misfortune of meeting. The thought of him in Carver's cellar still haunts her. She doesn't know what horrors await her at his secret compound, a remote place the Circle calls The Hollow.

She can only hope Tyler hasn't let her down.

This is a dark erotic thriller with twisted turns and fierce hearts.

Belle may be broken--but she's never beaten.

All characters are over 18 and this is a complete work of fantasy and nothing more.

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The Hollow

I had just slipped on my heels when I heard Carver's sharp voice from the hall.

"No. That's not possible," he snapped.

I froze, ears straining.

"Yes, it's my car. What of it?" His voice was low, dangerous. "I'm telling you, there's been a mistake."

A long pause. My heart hammered in my chest.

"You listen to me." His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "You know who I am. You know I have the Chief's ear. Tread carefully."

There was a pause, then a thin hiss of breath as Carver exhaled sharply.

"Fine. I'll be there. But I expect this nonsense to be cleared up by the time I arrive."

The call ended with a click, followed by the sound of his footsteps moving deliberately down the hall. I stood perfectly still as he entered the room, eyes narrowed, irritation rippling off him in waves.

"Belle." His tone was deceptively calm. "Get yourself ready."

"I am ready," I whispered, forcing my voice to stay steady.

His gaze slid over me, slow and calculating. "Good. I'll be gone a while. Some issue with my car and an idiot at the station. When I return, we're heading to the Chief's private lodge. The Hollow. It's... special. Very special. Isolated. A place for business and pleasure." His smile curved, all charm and threat. "I expect you to be on your best behaviour."

"I always am," I murmured.

His smile widened. "Good girl. Make sure your things are packed, I will want to leave straight away. I can't abide being tardy."

He watched me a moment longer before turning and leaving. The sound of the front door closing followed, and his car roared down the drive.

I spent some time packing my things, unsure of what to bring or what lay ahead of me. When I was done I sank to the bed, the tight knot of tension in my chest refusing to loosen.

I couldn't let my mind linger on what the Chief wanted or what lay in wait at his lodge. The plan had to work. I had to survive. I had to take care of Red.

The air in the room felt strange--stale and heavy. Every second that ticked by added another brick to the wall of dread pressing down on my chest. I thought of Red. Of her strength, her fire. How small she'd looked last time I saw her. Like a flame fighting the wind.

Then I thought of Tyler. The way he'd looked at me. Like he still saw me. Not a broken thing. Not a disguise. Just me.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to believe there was a way out of this. That we could really win.

I dragged my bags down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing a drink from the refrigerator.

A soft knock at the window broke the stillness like a gunshot. I jumped, my breath catching as I turned--and there he was. Tyler. His face pale in the dim light, eyes wide and urgent.

My breath caught as I hurried across the room and lifted the sash. "What the heck are you doing here?" I whispered furiously.

I scrambled across the room and opened the door.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed, heart hammering.

"I couldn't stay away," he whispered. "I had to see you."

Before I could stop him, he'd pushed into the room. He was warm and solid and terrifyingly real.

"You can't be here," I said, barely louder than a breath. "He might come back any second."

"I know. But if he does, I'll handle it."

"You don't understand--"

"I got help. I'm going to rescue you, and the others. Bring these fuckers down."

"The FBI's involved," Tyler continued. "There's a Special Agent on it. Mancuso. Pa knows her and told her everything. She has the tapes, but she wants names--anyone connected to the Circle. As many as we can find. If we don't hit them all at once we'll have trouble."

"Mancuso?" I repeated, unfamiliarity and fear threading through the name.

"She's good, honest and determined to see this through," Tyler said quickly. "We can trust her. But she needs help. Whoever you--" He stopped, correcting himself. "Whoever they are, if you can give us anything..."

My chest tightened, my thoughts racing. My chance.

Tyler then explained all that had happened. Confronting his father and getting him to agree to help. Then speaking to the FBI, delivering the tapes. How they had put a task force together and were slowly untangling the web, gathering more evidence.

"Look Tyler, I'm supposed to be going out with Carver soon. We're going to the Chief's place. The Hollow its called." My voice was low, barely a breath. "I can look around while I'm there."

Tyler's eyes sharpened. "The Chief?"

"The Chief of Police. He's..." I faltered, bile rising at the thought of the man. "He's the worst of them."

"Belle--"

"I can look there. Carver said it's where they do business, there might be something," I said firmly. "And while I'm gone, the FBI can search here. Carver keeps lots of papers loose in his study."

"But I came to get you. Take you away right now."

"Tyler, there's others there. And one I care a lot about. I couldn't live with myself if I don't do all I can to free all of them. I've come this far, I can look after myself."

As I said the words, I wasn't sure they were true.

"Are you sure? I don't like this." Tyler's hand found mine, his warmth steadying. "It all sounds too dangerous. I don't want to lose you again."

"I don't have a choice. Red will be there, the Chief owns her like Carver owns me."

A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black device--a walkie-talkie. "Mancuso gave me this to give to you. It's an FBI one, good range. Keep it off and hidden until you need it. If you find anything, call. If you're in danger, call."

I slipped it into my bag, burying it beneath scarves and gloves.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then he pulled me into his arms, his embrace fierce and desperate. His huge arms shielding me from this situation as best he could.

"I've got you," he murmured.

My arms tightened around him. "You always did."

"I still do."

And then he kissed me.

It wasn't a question, and it wasn't soft. It was all heat and heartache and desperation--the kind of kiss that grabs you by the soul and doesn't let go. His hands framed my face, thumbs brushing away the tears I hadn't realized I was crying. He pulled me closer, and I melted into him, feeling my body respond like it remembered something my mind had forgotten. Safety. Home.

I don't know how long we held each other like that, but behind the warmth, something started to twist. Guilt. Red's smile in the dark. Her lips on mine, her laugh, her hand gripping mine in the van. I kissed him back anyway.

When we finally pulled apart, I was breathless.

"Tyler..."

He rested his forehead against mine. "I don't care what they did to you. I don't care who they made you pretend to be. You're still you. And I--" He paused, voice thick. "I think I always loved you. Even before I knew what that meant."

My throat ached. "This can't be real. I..."

"It is. I'm not going anywhere."

We held each other in the silence, the moment stretching soft and painful between us.

Then the crunch of gravel.

We both froze.

"Go," I whispered urgently.

He slipped out the door without another word. I closed it fast, turning just as Carver's keys were jangling in the front door.

I stood there looking at Carver, bags around my feet.

"Well that was a waste of time. All a mix up. Time to go have some fun sugar."

-------------------

The station wagon rattled down the narrow country road, the wheels chewing up gravel and flinging it into the trees. I kept my gaze fixed on the horizon ahead, where the pale gray sky bled into endless fields. Carver drove with one hand on the wheel, the other draped lazily over his thigh. His fingers tapped a slow, rhythmic beat--each tap like a nail driven into my nerves.

"You've been quiet." His voice, low and smooth, broke the silence. "A little too quiet, I think."

I swallowed, forcing my breath to remain steady. "Just tired," I murmured, my eyes never leaving the road.

He chuckled softly. "Tired from what? I let you have a day off, remember? Thought you'd be well-rested."

The back of my neck prickled, heat flushing my skin. He was circling me like a predator, sniffing for weakness. I couldn't let him find it.

"Rested, sure," I said, keeping my tone light, as though we were discussing the weather. "But I guess I've been thinking about... today."

I glanced sideways at him. His smile curled, the edges of his mouth tugging upward just enough to make my stomach twist.

"Ah, the Chief," he said, drawing out the words like savoring a fine wine. "You remember him well, don't you?"

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. "Yes."

My brain flicked to Carver's cellar. Tied up as the Chief fucked me. The smell of him, his stale sweat dripping onto my back.

Carver hummed, his fingers resuming their insidious tapping. "He's been looking forward to this visit. He's a man who enjoys... consistency. You know how he likes things just so."

I didn't respond.

"And Red," Carver continued, his voice dipping into something almost intimate. "Poor, sweet Red. You remember how she squeals when she's scared? The way she looks when she knows there's no way out?"

My nails bit into my palms as I fought to keep my breathing even. Fucker knew how to get to me.

"She's been such good company for him," Carver added, casting me a sideways glance. "But you--oh, you're special. He's missed you."

"I'm sure he has," I said, forcing the words out evenly, though my throat felt like it was closing.

The car hit a bump, jostling us both. The trees thickened around us, closing in as the road wound deeper into the wilderness.

"Don't look so tense," he chided, his voice a soft mockery. "This is supposed to be fun. You know how important loyalty is to me."

I nodded, unable to speak.

"Loyalty's all I ask, Belle," he continued. "And you've been loyal, haven't you?"

"Yes sir." The lie came out smooth as silk, even as my heart hammered in my chest.

"Good." His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch made my skin crawl, but I didn't flinch. "You're learning. Maybe I'll reward you again if things go well with the Chief."

"Thank you Daddy," I whispered, the words choking me.

The road stretched on, narrowing as we neared our destination. My mind spun with the details Tyler had given me--names, power, influence. The Hollow was the heart of the Circle's gatherings.

If there was evidence, it would be there.

But how would I find it? And if I called for help here, would anyone answer?

The weight of the walkie-talkie in my bag felt like a lifeline, a secret burning against my ribs. Tyler's voice echoed in my memory, steady and sure: "If you're in danger, call."

I gripped the seat as The Hollow loomed ahead, its dark silhouette rising like a beast from the shadows.

Carver's smile widened. "Showtime."

The dirt track wound through the towering pines. We parked the car and walked, every step a reminder of how far from help we were. I felt the isolation pressing against my chest as Carver gripped my arm, leading me towards the building. It loomed ahead--a hulking, weathered structure of dark wood and stone, its peaked roof capped with moss. A chill hung in the morning air, sharp and damp, as if the trees themselves held their breath.

It looked odd. Something I couldn't put my finger on when I looked at it. Like it had been something else, built for another purpose, and made to look like a hunting lodge. But the shape was all wrong. It was almost like the building was wearing a disguise.

The Chief's black 4x4 sat outside, streaked with mud, its roof rack burdened with bundles of rope and hunting gear. The windows gleamed like dark eyes watching from the shadows. My pulse quickened. I fought to keep my breathing steady, even as my legs felt like lead.

"Homey, isn't it?" Carver murmured, his lips brushing close to my ear as he steered me toward the heavy oak door. "Perfect spot for a quiet retreat. No one comes out here unless they're invited. Or dragged."

He chuckled, amused by his own sick joke. My stomach turned.

The door groaned open, the scent of old leather and pipe smoke spilling into the air. Inside, the lodge was dim and warm, lit by flickering oil lamps that cast long, shifting shadows. Thick beams of knotted pine stretched across the ceiling, and the walls were crowded with hunting trophies: the glassy eyes of deer and elk stared down, their antlers stretching like grasping hands. A bear's snarling maw jutted out over the stone fireplace, its teeth yellow and sharp.

But again, it all seemed like the place had been dressed up. I could see the walls were actually concrete in places, the cladding placed around it to disguise it. But here and there there were signs. The whole place felt over-engineered for a simple hunting lodge.

Carver paused, tilting his head as though admiring the decor of all the trophy heads, each animals face frozen in a moment of terror or anger. "You know," he said lightly, gesturing toward a gap on the far wall, "there's room for one more. Maybe a nice redhead. Think the Chief would go for that?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to react. Red. Of course the fucker meant Red. A surge of nausea rose, but I pushed it down. Don't give him the satisfaction. Not now.

A door creaked open. I snapped my gaze toward it just in time to see the Chief emerge from the shadows. He was tall and broad, his frame heavy with muscle gone soft. His gray-streaked hair was cropped close, and his eyes--small, sharp, and pitiless--fixed on me like a hawk sighting prey. He wore a button-down shirt, its sleeves rolled up to thick forearms dusted with coarse hair, the buttons on the chest straining to contain his large stomach. Sweat patches distorting the shirts color under his arms.

His boots thudded on the wood floor as he crossed the room.

It was his smell that hit me first, what I remembered from Carver's cellar. Tobacco mixed with stale sweat.

"Carver." He nodded, a slow, measured greeting, but his gaze didn't stray from me. A smile crept across his lips, thin and hungry. "You brought me a gift."

"She's eager to be of service," Carver drawled. "Isn't that right, Belle?"

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as dust. "Yes, sir," I whispered.

The Chief's smile widened. "Good girl." His eyes lingered on me, crawling over my skin like a physical weight. "It's been too long."

Silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Carver finally broke it with a laugh. "We were just admiring your collection," he said, gesturing to the mounted heads. "Quite a haul."

The Chief's gaze didn't waver. "Every trophy tells a story," he said softly. "Some are more memorable than others."

"True," Carver agreed. He glanced at me, a smirk tugging at his mouth. "Think you'll be adding any new stories soon?"

The Chief's eyes gleamed. "We'll see."

He stepped back, gesturing toward the doorway behind him. "Come. Let's get comfortable."

My heart thudded painfully as he led the way. The door yawned open, revealing a narrow concrete staircase that plunged down into darkness. I hesitated, the air growing colder as if the shadows below exhaled a breath of icy dread.

"Go on," Carver murmured, a hand pressing lightly on my back. "Ladies first."

Each step creaked beneath my feet as I descended.

The cellar stretched far deeper than I expected, a world hidden beneath the lodge's rustic veneer. My heels clicked softly on the smooth concrete floor as I took in the expanse. The air was cool, the kind of cold that seeped into your skin and settled in your bones.

A fully stocked bar dominated one side of the room, its polished wood gleaming under low amber lights. Rows of crystal glasses lined the shelves, perfectly arranged beside bottles of expensive whiskey and bourbon. A faint smell of cigar smoke hung in the air, the stale remnants of conversations I didn't want to imagine.

To the left, leather sofas huddled around a low table littered with playing cards and poker chips. A pool table sat nearby, its surface an emerald green stretch marred by scratches and faint stains that told stories of countless games--and perhaps far darker activities. In another corner, a dartboard hung crookedly on the wall, its bullseye pierced with deadly precision.

But it wasn't the furniture or the luxurious trappings that caught my breath in my throat. It was the photographs.

They covered the walls, arranged in neat frames like trophies on display.

Girls.

Dozens of them.

Some were smiling, posed with drinks in their hands, their eyes wide with the kind of naive excitement that didn't belong in a place like this. Others had a more vacant look, as if their souls had been hollowed out. Some were in lingerie or bondage wear. They were all girls like me and Red.

My stomach churned as I scanned the faces. I recognized some from the parties--the glamorous events where women were paraded like prizes--but others were strangers. Lost girls. Forgotten girls.

The walls whispered their secrets, and I hated myself for standing among them.

More hunting trophies and polished rifles hung between the frames, the juxtaposition as grotesque as it was intentional. A mounted deer head stared blankly across the room, its lifeless glass eyes watching the spectacle. Beside it, a shotgun rested in an ornate rack, its barrel gleaming like a promise of violence.

I shivered. This was a place where the Circle's power came to life. A den for dark minds to gather, where they could relax, plot, and revel in their conquests without fear of consequence.

Carver caught my eye, a smirk tugging at his lips as he took in my reaction.

"Like what you see?" he drawled, his voice a low purr that made my skin crawl.

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

His grin widened. "This is where the boys come to unwind. A game of cards. A few drinks. And, of course..." His eyes flicked toward the photos on the wall. "We like to keep memories of our... acquisitions."

I clenched my jaw, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

The Chief chuckled, his heavy footsteps echoing as he moved toward a door at the far end of the room. He reached for the handle, his thick fingers gripping it tightly as if savoring the moment.

"Shall we?"

I forced my feet to move, following him as dread coiled tighter around my chest.

"Strip." the Chief barked at me, making me jump slightly. I quickly undid my shirt and skirt, leaving me with just my bra and panties. I hoped that would be enough.

A stinging slap on my ass informed me I was wrong. "I said strip!"

Still wincing from the pain, I undid my small bra, and slipped off my panties. As instructed by Carver, my cock was caged at the front. It felt awful to be seen by the Chief like this. So vulnerable and humiliating. Of course that was exactly the idea

The Chief walked up behind me, clipping a collar around my neck. From a glance it was a shiny metal one. It was quite high, only just enough room for me to move my neck. It gripped in tight around my throat, a thick padded velvet inner lining squeezing me gently.

I was pushed forward to another door. Carver opened it, the room inside was pitch black, but I could sense it was big. Much bigger than the games room I'd just been in. And way too big for the basement of an ordinary hunting lodge.

The Chief's thick hand closed around the back of my neck, guiding me through the doorway like a dog on a leash. His fingers pressed too hard, each step driving me deeper into the cellar. I caught the scent of damp concrete, stale smoke, and something darker--metallic, like old blood.

I stumbled into the dark, heart pounding. The silence hit me first--thick and absolute, like the room had swallowed sound itself. The air felt impossibly wide, like I'd stepped into something vast and forgotten.

A sharp click.

Blinding light flared overhead, searing my eyes. I flinched, raising a hand against the glare until shapes began to take form.

It wasn't just a room.

It was a theatre.

Tiered rows of seats rose in a perfect circle around me, carved straight into concrete--like a Roman amphitheater buried underground. The chairs were leather, expensive, arranged with military precision. Each one had a flawless view of the empty floor below.

There had to be almost a hundred of them.

What the fuck was this place?

My gaze dropped to the centre: a circular platform, smooth and bare. No stage lights. No curtains. Just a cold slab of nothing. A spotlight hung overhead like an executioner's noose.

This was it. The Circle.

It wasn't just a name.

"Well?"

Carver's voice coiled out of the shadows behind me, silk over something sharp. "What do you think?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

It was the Chief who stepped forward, hands in his pockets like he owned the world.

"Decommissioned Air Force radar site," he said casually. "Part of a Cold War early-warning network. Meant to link up with bases across the region. Never got used. Picked it up cheap, land and all. Not my only cheap purchase from the good old department of defense. This used to be the ops room."

He tapped the wall with the heel of his boot. "This place was built to survive a direct hit. Nuclear-grade concrete. Also means people can't hear any noise we make down here."

Carver stepped closer, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We've had some incredible performances here. You wouldn't believe the things we've seen. Powerful men, all gathered for a little entertainment from our girls. It's quite a show."

The Chief chuckled darkly. "Some even come back for an encore."

My pulse roared in my ears.

Carver brushed past me, pacing toward the empty circle at the center. He turned, spreading his arms wide. "It's something, isn't it? A place where the rules don't matter. Where a man can do... anything."

My stomach twisted violently.

"Look around, Belle." His eyes gleamed as he gestured to the seats. "Imagine the crowd. Imagine their eyes, watching. Waiting."

My breath caught. "What... what do you want from me?"

The Chief smiled, slow and cruel.

"You'll see soon enough."

He pushed me past the theatre, yet another door. Already I guessed that this subterranean part of The Hollow was a lot larger than the building above. The next room was grey concrete on both the floor and the ceiling. It was damp. There wasn't much to see in here apart from a set of animal cages stacked one on top of the other, three high and about three wide.

In the dim light I could just make out there was something in some of them.

I peered in, trying to discern what sort of animal they had captured, but then I realised it was people. Girls.

As I looked harder at their frightened faces, I recognised one of them, Red.

She looked tired, worn out almost. She gave me a faint smile, but there wasn't the usual spark behind it.

The Chief opened one of the cages, then he grabbed me by my hair.

"Come on pet, in you go." With an ease that belied his strength, the Chief pushed me into a cage. It smelt bad in there. On the floor there was blanket, a bowl of water and a bucket in the corner. The ceiling was low, all I could do was crouch. Side to side it was narrow, but it was long enough to lay down in. What had I got myself into.

"Show starts in another three hours, we'll be back in two, give you time to make yourselves pretty for our audience.

I could hear the other girls whimpering when he mentioned the show. Carver and the Chief allowed themselves one last grin at us before walking out the door and switching off the light. I was locked in, naked in the pitch black.

--------

The Circle

I called out to Red in the dark.

"I'm ok sugar. Good to see you again. Maya and Tia are here too."

Although she was trying to be her normal bouncy self, there was a slight waver to her voice. I didn't know if it was fear, cold or what she'd suffered at the hands of the Chief.

I knew now that coming here with Carver was a mistake. I should have run with Tyler. Just got away and let the FBI do what it could.

But if I had done that what about the other girls. What about Red.

"Red, what's happening here?"

"Sweetness, we can't really talk. We're supposed to stay silent, or things could get worse. Just know we'll get through, and that I love you."

I thought for a moment, I had to give her some hope.

"Ok Red. I just wanted to let you know, that day I had to myself. Worked out real well."

"That's real good to hear hunny. Real good."

In the dark I could hear sobs. I lay down in the cage, curling into a ball, awaiting whatever my fate was likely to be.

Spending so long in the dark left to my thoughts, wondering what Tyler was doing, what evidence Agent Mancuso had got, what Carver and Chief had planned for me and the others. I slipped almost into a dream state.

I could see myself and Red, somewhere on the coast, looking at the ocean. It was cold, but we were keeping each other warm, my hands inside of her jumper. She looked beautiful as the wind swept her hair. Calm. Free. There was no one around, we had the whole beach to ourselves. I whispered in her ear "Lets go back to bed." She smiled and took my hand leading me away.

I was knocked out of my dream by the door opening loudly. Bright lights blinded me, but I could hear the Chief's deep voice commanding us.

"Ok girls, showtime soon. Time to clean yourselves up, get made up all pretty for the boys."

I could hear the cage doors being opened. Gradually my eyes adjusted to the light. I could see the chief standing ahead of me. There was a device in his hand, a long stick with a forked ending. It seemed to be electronic as I tried to work out what it was. Then it hit me, it was a cattle prod.

The chief flicked a switch and the end crackled. I could hear a few girls yelp, the sound scaring them to move faster. Not wishing to test what that device could do I moved as fast as I could. My stiff bones aching as I moved out of my cage.

We moved through another door. The room ahead was long and sterile, a space designed with precision for a singular, chilling purpose.

A massive table stretched across one side, its surface cluttered with makeup brushes, palettes, curling irons, and hairdryers--tools of transformation laid out in meticulous disarray. The mirror that ran the length of the table was surrounded by a garish halo of lightbulbs, their harsh glare revealing every flaw, every imperfection that paint and powder were meant to hide.

Full-length mirrors stood at either end of the room. They would reflect every inch of us from head to toe, dissecting us like specimens on display.

At the far end, a communal shower loomed, its chrome nozzles gleaming under the lights. Rows of exposed pipes ran along the wall, and the tiled floor sloped toward a single drain in the center.

It reminded me of the locker rooms back in high school, a place where privacy was a myth and vulnerability was mandatory. But this wasn't a place for innocent camaraderie. It was something far darker.

Whatever "performance" the Circle had planned for us, it was clear they expected us to be flawless. Polished. Perfect.

The Chief grinned as he gestured around the room with a sweep of his hand, his eyes never quite leaving me.

"Now, you ladies have an hour and a half to make yourselves presentable. Make sure those faces are as pretty as they can be." His grin widened, showing teeth too white, too sharp. "You won't need long to get dressed, though.

A dry, humorless chuckle rose from his chest, and I felt the chill of it run down my spine. Then came the unmistakable sound of the door locking behind us, a metallic twist that sealed us in.

Red was there--close enough to touch, her presence a tether to the world outside this nightmare--but her face was a mask of warning. Her eyes darted to the corners of the ceiling, then down to the walls. It didn't take much to understand.

We were being watched. Every second, every move catalogued by unseen eyes.

I ached to reach for her, to wrap my arms around her and feel the solid warmth of another human being who knew this hell, who felt it the same way I did. But I kept my hands at my sides.

I forced my gaze forward, refusing to give in to the quiver in my chest.

I looked at who else was here, then I saw Tia and Maya. It was the first time I'd seen either of them naked. Maya's tall figure was elegant, sculpted even with long legs. Like she'd walked off a catwalk. Her perfect dark caramel brown skin shining in the light from the mirror. She had the most perfect round ass, large and wide, in contrast to the rest of her body, which was thin and almost athletic in look. It jiggled slightly as she moved.

Her breasts were full, but not overly large. Certainly larger than mine though, with dark areola and nipples. Both of her nipples had gold rings through them, that contrasted starkly with her dark skin. The gold anklet was still around her slender ankle that I'd seen her wearing that day at the pool.

Tia's figure couldn't have been more different to Maya, with pale skin not unlike Red's, wavy auburn hair falling down her shoulders. She was the shortest of the girls here, and looked the youngest with that classic baby-face cuteness she exuded. But today the energy she normally had, what I'd seen at the Lodge was gone. Sullen like the rest of us.

She was probably the most curvy of all of the girls. With a wide, soft peachy ass and large soft pink breasts, her chest dotted with the same brown freckles she had on her face. I could see why she was often dressed as a sexy schoolgirl.

On one of her ass cheeks was a small tattoo. In passing I glanced at what it said. 'I belong to Daddy x'.

There were two other girls there who I vaguely recognised from the Lodge. One had almost Native American features, tanned skin and dark eyes, strong jaw and hawkish nose. She had long straight dark brown hair that fell down her back almost to her ass. Her body was thin and willowy, with small breasts, not too different to mine, and a firm tight little ass.

The other girl was blonde, with short, slightly scruffy hair--longer on top, cropped close at the sides. Her skin was tanned, and her frame was slim, almost boyish, with small breasts--smaller than mine had grown to now, certainly. Her face was delicate and pretty: a small nose, high cheekbones, and wide blue eyes. She looked young--and more afraid than any of us.

Tia still looked younger, but I knew better with her. That baby face was a lie. Tia was older than both me and Red.

I felt she must be a new recruit. I had some idea what lay in store, I knew how cruel Carver and the Chief could be. I guessed she didn't. I wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

And Red, still beautiful as always, just didn't look herself. She looked beaten. It took all of my strength to run up and hold her. She looked at me and smiled. With all I could, I tried to shape my face in a way that said "keep hope. Help is coming." I had know idea whether I was successful.

All of the girls wore the same metal collar around their necks. Some of them had their she-cocks locked in cages like mine.

We pilled into the shower, all keen to wash the holding cages from our bodies. I felt an arm around my waist, it was Red. In the noise of the shower she spoke.

"Hunny, this is important. Whatever happens out there, you need to pick me. You'll understand when we are out there."

I nodded, not really understanding and fearing her tone. I moved my hand to her bottom, cupping her cheek. My other hand pulled her head close to me and I managed to whisper "Help is coming. I need to get back to my bag in the games room to call for it. Can you help me."

Red whispered back "I'll try, but it's dangerous here. Everyone is going to be here soon. They will have security. And guns."

We didn't risk any more conversation, finished our showers and grabbing towels we sat down at the makeup table, each of us had our name on a seat in front of the mirror telling us where to sit. And then we started to work on silence.

Once we were finished with our makeup, I noticed Tia reach for something under the table. She pulled out some shoes, nylons and a suspender belt. But nothing else. Of course, this was the Chief's jibe about not needing too long to dress.

Once I was done I looked down to see what I had. Sure enough I saw a pair of black patent high heels, a pair of black nylons fresh in a packet, a black suspender belt and a black leather corset. The corset was a waspie, just enough to wrap around my tummy, above my hips, and only just covering my the lower part of my rib cage. Meaning my breasts were fully on display.

Vanessa wore something similar to myself, her corset was slightly larger, cupping her naked breasts. The Native American girl just had a pair thigh high boots to wear. While the young blonde had her set in white.

Tia clipped a small pleated skirt in check around her waist. The hem was ridiculously high, showing everything below. She then tied her hair into pig tails. The college girl look seemed to be her theme. Perhaps it was what her owner demanded every time.

I looked at all of us. It was one of the sexiest looking groups I'd ever seen. Our faces made up, pretty with a decided edge of slutty, with red and pink glossy lips, dark eye-shadow and sculpted faces. Another time it would have been a lot of fun. Fun like we sometimes allowed ourselves at the lodge. But not today. Our faces told a different story.

We weren't long waiting until the door opened. There was the chief. He was wearing a police uniform stretched tight over his corpulent body, but it didn't look like an official one. I was glad to see the cattle prod gone, but in its place was a wicked looking horse whip.

"Good god almighty don't you all look fine. Feel like telling all the folks to head home so I can just have some fun by myself."

He ordered us back into the room with the cages, our heels clipping on the concrete floor loudly as we shuffled through.

I could hear the mumble-bumble sound of a crowd talking in low voices. Mens voices. It was hard to know how many, whether the seats in the theatre would be full. But it was a good bet most of the Circle was here. If only I could signal Tyler, let them know where I was. They could take them all down now, in one swoop. Save us whatever was about to happen. Save us for good.

The Chief opened the door and peeked outside. It seemed like he was waiting for things to settle down. When he was satisfied he turned back to us, cracking his horse-whip.

"Alright, girls," the Chief sneered, his voice thick with amusement. "Scurry along now. Let's not keep our guests waiting."

The door opened with a heavy groan, and I felt the push of his hand between my shoulder blades, propelling me forward. Red's presence was a shadow behind me, but I didn't dare glance back.

I was pushed to the front of the line by the Chief, his hand roughly grabbing my arm to do so.

I stepped into the theatre, and my breath caught in my throat.

The room swallowed me whole, a cavernous space where the walls pressed in. It felt larger than when I'd first seen it.

Rows of seats curved around the circular stage at the center, their dark silhouettes blending into the shadows. The only light was a harsh spotlight that burned in the middle, illuminating the small circle of polished wood where I was to stand.

A path cut through the seats from the door to the stage, narrow and deliberate, designed to funnel us into the center of their gaze.

I felt their eyes before I saw them.

The darkness seemed alive with hunger. Figures shifted in the gloom--men with faces half-hidden in shadow. I couldn't make out their features, but I felt the weight of their stares, the heat of their attention crawling over my skin.

Most of them were older. Forty, fifty, sixty--some older still. Their shapes blurred together into a mass of tailored suits and polished shoes, but I caught glimpses of younger girls draped over their arms or seated at their feet.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as sand.

I tried to focus on my feet, on the simple act of walking, but each click of my heel on the floor was a trial. Every nerve in my body screamed with awareness of how vulnerable I was in that moment.

I could feel their eyes on my naked body. The felt air like icy fingers on my bare shoulders and legs. I was hyper-aware of how everything was on display for their amusement.

The whisper of movement.

A hand brushed my thigh--bold, unapologetic. I flinched, but kept moving. Another hand grazed my waist.

"Look at that one," a voice murmured.

"Fresh meat," another chuckled.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, tasting blood, and kept walking.

Their words blurred together--sickening, degrading. They spoke about us like we were animals, commodities to be evaluated and bartered.

I wanted to curl into myself, to hide, but there was no escape. I was on display, every step carrying me deeper into their world.

With each pace, the stage loomed closer. The spotlight grew brighter, blinding.

My heart was a hammer in my chest, pounding so hard I thought it might shatter my ribs. My breathing was shallow, uneven, my pulse roaring in my ears.

And yet, I kept walking.

I had to.

At the centre circle I noticed something odd. Something that wasn't there before. It was standing up from the floor and seemed to be made from clear perspex. It had a 'T' shape, the vertical stand widening to the floor and securely fastened by four large bolts. The horizontal cross section at the top had three holes. The central one of the three larger than the other two. A single large padlock was clipped to one end.

We stood around the circle, forming up as the Chief manhandled us into position. He cracked his horse whip when we were all in place, making us walk around the perimeter, to display ourselves for the audience.

As I walked I could see their eyes looking over every inch of me. Some licked their lips, while others said what they would like to do to me. It was a total humiliation, the shame washing over me, so on display.

I wondered what this was. An auction? I thought I'd been sold off by Carver already. Were we to put on a display?

The Chief told us to stop. He pulled me to the edge of the circle, facing towards the centre. He then lined the girls in front of the object.

The Chief spoke loudly, so everyone could hear what he said to me. "Belle, you have a privilege today. Your first task of the day is to choose a girl. I want you to inspect them first, feel their bodies. Be sure of who you pick is right for the show.

I did what I was told. I'd been doing all I could to please the Circle, keep them thinking I was loyal as I could be. At this moment the last thing I wanted to do was let myself down by hesitating on any demand. Not giving it my best act.

I walked up to Tia first. I reached out and felt her curves. Then my hand cupped her breasts, squeezing her delightful orbs in my hand. As with Red, the work here was exceptional. I'd not really ever felt a real breast, but this was how I imagined it would be. Soft, warm and supple.

I pulled myself in close to her, feeling her warm breath on me, my hand now under her pleated skirt, gripping around her ample bottom. My lips now only an inch from hers. I felt her sigh a little as I held her. Behind me I heard a murmur of approval from the audience.

Next was the Native American girl. I ran my hand down her arms, gently caressing her. They flowed down to her hips, then her thighs, clad in the thigh high leather boots. My hand then drifted up to between her thighs, caressing her balls, causing her to quiver slightly to my touch. There was a small cheer from the audience as I did this.

Vanessa was a good few inches taller than me, which meant her breasts were almost at head height. I leaned and took one of her nipples into my mouth, teasing the ring through it with my teeth. I felt Vanessa's legs buckle slightly as I did this. My arms wrapped around her as I held her ass cheeks tightly, before taking my hands off and slapping them. A louder cheer from the audience as I did this.

"I can see our Belle is taking her role seriously!" the Chief bellowed to the crowd, causing them to bay at us.

Then it was the sweet blond girl. She looked the most frightened of all of us, her face looked so innocent. I wanted to fold her into my arms, take her away from this hellish place. But I had to keep up the performance.

I moved behind her, my hand to her stocking clad thigh roaming up to her ass. I placed my arm around her front, squeezing her breast, my face buried into her neck as I licked it. As I did so my hand moved to the cleft of her bottom, and my finger probing gently inside, making her groan and her knees bend.

Louder cheers from the audience, some of them standing up, baying for more.

Finally Red. I stood close to her, our breasts gently touching, my face close to hers. I looked deep into her eyes. She was frightened, but trying to will me on with a gentle nod. I remembered her words "pick me."

To hell with the Circle, I leaned in to give her a passionate kiss, my arms swallowing her up in a tight hug. I felt her melt into me for a moment, a fleeting moment of our pleasure.

I heard the baying get louder. Then there was a sharp painful crack on my ass, causing me to jump from Red's arms, the sharp sting rapidly shooting its ripples of pain through the rest of my body. It was the Chief's whip and he'd seen enough, his face looking slightly jealous.

"Time to choose Belle. Who will it be that will suffer."

Suffer? What was going to happen. I turned to the girls, they all looked so scared. Some were quivering. But Red looked calm. There was still fear in her eyes, but she looked like she was urging me to choose her.

I hated the thought of her suffering the most, but I did as she asked. I raised my arm and pointed at Red. She smiled, pleased that I'd done the right thing.

--------

The show

The other girls departed, handed to men in the crowd. I assumed they were their owners, some were grabbed roughly by the men, I saw Tia pushed to her knees at her man's feet.

Now it was just Red standing nervously on her own. The Chief grabbed her arm and walked her to the perplex 'T' frame in the centre of the stage. He unlocked it, opening the top half up. He pushed Red down into the frame, closing the top down on her neck and wrists. It seemed to be some sort of stocks. Red was secured in place, no hope of escape, her perfect heart shaped bottom and stocking clad thighs facing towards me.

The Chief walked over to, surprising me by handing the horse-whip. I held it in my hands, sensing anticipation in the audience as things went oddly quiet.

"Well Belle, how many is it going to be? Too few and it will make things worse for the both of you. How many do you think Red can take?"

I realised now what Red already knew. I was to whip her. I chose her from the others and now had to decide how many should could take. I couldn't help but love her bravery and sacrifice, preferring to take the pain than make any of the others suffer.

The whip looked painful. It was a long stick, with a thin whip attached to the end. I'd already felt it once on my ass and I could still feel the sting hot on my flesh. It had sent me into a cold sweat. I had to think of a number, something Red could take, that wasn't below the Chief's fiendish expectations.

"Twenty five." I ventured boldly. I saw Red's legs shift nervously as I spoke. There were jeers and applause from the audience. It felt too many, one would be too many. But at the same time I worried it wouldn't be enough for these vile people.

"Twenty five, hmm. Not bad. More than I guessed you'd say, but perhaps less than this slut deserves. Very well Belle you may start in a moment. Red, I want you to call each one out, let's hear you count up."

"Yes sir." I heard Red reply, her voice sounding fragile and nervous. The crowd applauded again.

The Chief leaned over to me "Oh and Belle, if I think you aren't hitting hard enough, I will demonstrate on you exactly how hard you should be hitting. Do you understand? And if you stop, then both of you get double."

As I walked up towards Red I felt the weight of the horse-whip in minds. The crowd was starting to bay again, urging me on. There was no way around this, I had to switch my mind, get into the state where I could do these things, or it would be so much worse for the both of us.

I raised the whip and brought it down on Red's back. She screamed briefly, her voice drowned out by the cheer of the crowd.

"One." she finally managed to say.

I brought a second on her back, a groan from Red this time.

"Two."

A third, this time her knees buckled slightly as her body fought to escape the pain.

"Three."

A fourth and a fifth cracked onto her back. I thought I could hear her whimper. Sweat was running down my back now, the room was getting hot from so many people in this underground lair. Red's skin was gleaming, I could see red lines across her back from the strikes I'd hit her with so far.

Six, seven and eight hit home. Red shook slightly now, I could hear her breathing. This was getting harder for me to do. I hated causing her so much pain. Despite trying to switch my mind to accept what I was doing, I couldn't help but feel for her. Someone I loved so much.

Nine and Ten hit home. Her knees buckling again, and the crowd going wild, calling for more.

I cracked another strike across her back. "Eleven." Red's voice was cracking, it sounded like she was crying. This was getting too much to do.

I struck her again with the whip, across her lower back. "Twelve."

"What was that! I warned you not to go soft Belle.. Red, that one doesn't count. Belle on your knees below Red now!"

I knew what this meant. In some ways I welcomed it, I wanted to suffer for what I was doing to Red. I knelt down, my head almost between Red's legs as I bent over and waited for what was coming.

Crack! I yelped in pain, trying to hold my arms back from covering my bare vulnerable ass. Then another, then another after that. Each sending shockwaves of pain through my body. I whimpered as I tried to recover before another strike made me cry out again, the crowd cheering loudly.

By the fifth stroke I had no idea how Red had taken so many, and we weren't even halfway through.

Shakily I stood up. At least it had given Red a moment to recover. The Chief handed me back the whip. I took a step forward, I decided it might be best to go fast as I could through this, get it over with, until they told me otherwise.

Crack! "Twelve." Crack "Thirteen." Crack "Ahh, Fourteen."

I carried on as fast as I dare, waiting only for Red's voice to return the number. The crowd cheering each strike. Red's back now a criss-cross of strike marks.

At twenty the Chief stopped me. He took the horse-whip from my hands, handing me a different implement. It was leather, smaller with lots of leather strands attached to a long leather handle.

"Across her ass Belle, I don't think that area has seen enough action."

I took a second to look at the crowd. Some of the men were openly holding their cocks, enjoying the show. Others were being fellated by girls they had brought. I saw the young blonde who was with me in the cage on all fours while one man fucked her from behind while another had his cock in her mouth. The whole room looked like a scene from hell. I could smell the sweat and the sex in the room. This was The Circle at its basest.

I walked up close to Red, the noise in the room was so loud I risked a word to her. "I'm so sorry Red."

I could hear her sobbing hard now I was closer. I could now see how sore the red marks on her back looked against her pale sweat covered back. I just about heard her blub something to me "Keep going Belle."

I brought the tawse down hard on her ass, she instantly let up a cry while kicking with her legs, before rubbing them together in a futile reaction to soothe the pain away.

"Twenty one." She just about managed to say.

I decided to do what I'd done earlier, get through as fast as I could, bringing whip after whip down on her now bright red ass cheeks.

Finally I heard her say the magic words "Twenty Five." They were almost gasped out of her, like she had no breath left in her body. It shook as the stocks held her in place.

There was applause from the audience now we had reached our horrible crescendo. And I was the centre of it. My nerves felt on edge, wired. My stomach turning with what I'd just done to Red.

Some of the crowd seemed to disperse. The main event over.

Before I could get my bearings the Chief grabbed me by my neck.

"Well what a good little slut you are. I did enjoy fucking you, have to thank Carver for letting me be your first. Bet you haven't had better cock since have you slut."

I shook my head "No sir."

"When Red has recovered I'm going to take her to my little retirement place down in Key West for some sun and fun. Might see if I can persuade Maxwell to let me have you for the weekend. As a favor."

His breath stank as he pressed his mouth close to mine.

"Now that's a place to unwind. Got myself a little slice of paradise there. Quiet, private. Just a short boat ride from Mallory Square, where all those tourists watch the sunset like it's some kind of miracle they've never seen before."

The chief leaned in even closer, his face an inch from mine as he looked me up and down.

"But my place? Little slice of paradise tucked away near the old salt flats, where the water's shallow and the mangroves stretch forever. No one bothers you out there. No one even knows it exists unless you're invited. No one can hear what we get up to. Nice and private for us to play around some."

The Chief let go of my neck and walked over unlock Red. He almost had to lift her out of the stocks and help her walk. Her back and ass were bright red and covered in marks. As she was turned towards me I saw her face, it was a mess. Her eye makeup had all run and her face glowed from sweat and tears. There was some relief and a flicker of a smile for me as the Chief dragged her away, back to the cage room.

I felt terrible. Only a few hours before this seemed all over, and now we were back in the belly of the beast.

A horribly familiar voice snapped me out of it.

"Well Belle, you really do never let me down do you my precious."

It was Carver who had appeared at my side like a bad smell. His hands were soon around me, making me wince in pain as they rubbed over the whip marks on my ass.

"Now the show is over it's the duty of the girls here to entertain the men. Most have gone up to the games room. You need to do the same. It think you will have quite the queue looking to be entertained after your performance."

I looked over his shoulder to see a group of men looking at me hungrily. I tried my best to switch back into slut mode. Enjoy their degrading looks, be pleased to serve them.

One walked up to me, an older man in his sixties. He grabbed my arm and led me up to the games room.

All I could think about was getting to the walkie talkie in my bag, hoping that no one had found it.

Contacting Mancuso

The man led me up the stairs away from the theatre. The others behind him looking like disappointed jackals who hadn't managed to get a bite of meat before the lion. I was brought into the games room again. The sofas were all in use as girls were being fucked in all sorts of positions. It was like these men were in a frenzy.

I was led into a side room, in front of me just a bed. The man introduced himself.

"My name is Miles, it's truly a pleasure to spend time with you young lady. You've been the talk of the circle. I don't think your new Daddy is going to be as sharing as Mr Carver, so I'm mighty glad to have some private time with you. Cost me a pretty penny to have you to myself."

His gentlemanly demeanour was in stark contrast to what he was doing, pushing me down to my knees and soon his cock pointed straight at my face. I obliged, licking around the mushroom head, teasing it the way I had learned, before devouring it deep into my throat.

Miles gasped in pleasure as I did so. My head was soon bobbing up and down, my saliva dripping down as I pulled my mouth away, only to plunge down again. My hand went to his saggy ball sack, teasing it.

I knew the routine now and I just wanted to satisfy him as fast as possible. All I could think about was getting back to my bag on the level above, seeing if the walkie talkie was still there. See if I could call for help.

As I was deep into sucking Miles off another man entered there room.

"Oh there she is, the star of the show. Carver's agreed I could have a little fun with you, if you don't mind me getting in behind, do you Miles?"

"Oh be my guest young man. She's doing a delightful job with her mouth, I'm sure her ass-pussy is just as delightful."

The way the talked around me drove me crazy. I also wasn't keen on anyone doing anything to my behind, still raw and painful from the horse-whip. But I knelt forward, my ass in the air as the second man started to lube me up from behind.

Soon I felt his cock push against my bud, thankfully he wasn't too big, but I'd not had anything inside to loosen me up. As he pushed harder I gasped as the delightful pain of him push inside me started to build. With another push he was inside me, his cock warm in deep in my ass.

As soon as he started to fuck me I felt a stinging sensation bite as his waist touched the welts on my ass. I pulled away from Miles for a moment "Take it easy baby, I'm still a little sore back there."

If he heard what I said, or cared, he didn't show it, fucking me harder if anything. I pushed back, rocking my hips and squeezing his cock with my ass muscles to bring him off as soon as possible. As for Miles, I could feel his balls tighten under my hand as I played with them. That telltale sign that he was going to cum soon.

The other man slapped my ass, causing me to pull Mile's cock from my mouth and wince with pain. A few tears rolled down my cheek.

"Now, now young man. Behave yourself with Mr Carver's prize. Plus I don't want her to have cause to stop the delightful things she's doing with my penis."

The man fucking me was out of breath, his thrusts harder. But he managed to gasp a "Sorry, got carried away" before fucking me harder than ever.

My head bobbed up and down on Mile's cock faster and faster, with my forefinger and thumb I gripped the base, moving my hand up and down in time with my mouth. He groaned with pleasure, and behind I could feel the other man was close. Suddenly Miles pulled back, cumming all over my face in a large spray of his seed.

At the same time the other man thrust deep into me, knocking the air out of my lungs as he came deep inside my ass. He leant against me for a moment, making me bite my lip in pain as his weight leant against the whip marks, before pulling out.

The two men were both panting and sated. This was my chance.

Recovering as fast as I could, I stood up, cum dripping down my face and out of my asshole down my thighs. "Well gentleman, I hope I've managed to satisfy you both?" They didn't answer, both gasping for breath. "If you don't mind I need to clean myself up.

As I Ieft the room the orgy was now in full swing. It was much more crazy than what I'd seen at the soiree at Carver's. If anything what was happening here made that seem genteel by comparison. I could see Tia on her back, one man fucking her and two cocks at her face. Vanessa was sitting on top of one man, while another was on her back. Two cocks squeezed into her ass-pussy.

All kinds of things were happening, with a few men now recovering at the bar. Some snorting lines of coke. But most were focused on the sex going on everywhere. The orgy was at its peak, there'd be no better opportunity. I'd left Mile's cum over my face on purpose, so I'd look well used and have an excuse to find a private moment to myself and clean myself up, if anyone asked. I could see my bag in a cupboard, along with a few things from the other girls I guessed. I grabbed it and tried to find a toilet or some quiet space.

"I see someone's been having fun." It was Carver, with his un-natural habit of appearing when you least expected him.

I turned so he could see the mess on my face, as he did he smiled his most wicked grin.

"My dear you are one of the best cock-sucking sluts I've ever known. I'm going to be so sad to see you go."

I wondered if there was an implied threat, or if he simply meant my sale to Maxwell Tierney.

"Well I aim to please all my Daddies sir." I used my most honey-dipped voice. Of all the times I didn't want him suspicious of me, right now was the most important.

"Well there are a few others who'd like a taste of you before the night is over sweet thing."

"Oh and I'll be happy to oblige, once I'm cleaned up of course. Is there somewhere I can go?"

"Of course sugar. Probably best if you use the bathroom upstairs. Think all the ones down her are occupied with all the fun going on."

I slipped up the stairs, clutching my small bag tight against my side. Every step felt too loud, each noise a betrayal of my stolen freedom. I felt absurd in this state, naked but for my waspie, stockings and suspender belt, the cool air brushing against too much bare skin. The Chief's house loomed around me, dark and sprawling.

I found the door he must have meant, a heavy oak panel that groaned slightly as I pushed it open. Inside, the bathroom was stark and cold, its white tiles gleaming under a single overhead light. A large mirror stretched across one wall, reflecting back the tension in my eyes and the deep, uneven breaths I couldn't control. I closed the door softly behind me and turned the lock.

The room smelled faintly of shaving cream and cologne, sharp and masculine. I twisted the shower knob, and water hissed to life, steam beginning to cloud the mirror. At the same time turned the faucet in the wash basin, I wanted it as loud as possible afraid the place might be wired, or that someone, probably Carver, might be listening against the door.

With shaking fingers, I pulled the small walkie-talkie from my bag. It felt absurdly tiny in my hands, but it was a lifeline. I pressed the button, the click loud in the confined space.

"Hello?" My voice was a whisper, trembling despite my best efforts. "Can anyone hear me?"

Static crackled in response, and my heart thudded harder, but then a voice cut through.

One minute. Two. Still nothing. I worried how long I'd have before anyone, particularly Carver, got suspicious.

"Hello? is there anyone there?"

The static crackled again, but this time I thought I heard a voice. Then it came in clearer.

"This is Mancuso. Belle is that you?"

I swallowed a sob of relief.

"Agent Mancuso," I breathed, pressing closer to the walkie. "Yes, it's me. I'm inside the Chief's hunting lodge. The Hollow."

"We know." Her voice was calm, sharp as a blade. "We've had eyes on Carver's car since he left Natchez. We've got agents positioned in the woods surrounding the property. But we've also seen armed guards. What's your status?"

I glanced back at the door, my heart racing. "There's a complex underground," I whispered. "A huge cellar, bigger than anything I could have imagined. The whole Circle is here. They're..." My voice faltered. "They're partying with the girls."

A heavy pause filled the airwaves.

Mancuso's voice, when it came, was steel. "This is our chance then."

"They're everywhere," I warned, panic rising in my chest. "If they see anyone coming, they'll kill us."

"Stay calm." Her tone was measured, deliberate. "You need to get back down there. Don't draw attention to yourself. When we move, find cover, go flat to the floor. It will be crazy and loud for a moment, keep your eyes closed and stay still. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Belle." Her voice softened, a note of reassurance threading through. "We're coming. You just need to hang on a little longer."

I clutched the walkie to my chest, breathing in the warmth of her words as if they could shield me from the cold truth of where I was.

"Go," Mancuso said firmly.

I turned off the walkie, slipped it back into my bag, and wiped my hands on my thighs to steady them. I quickly washed myself, doing my best to clean off the mess Miles and the other man had left me in. I checked how I looked. My reflection in the mirror looked braver than I felt.

With a deep breath, I unlocked the door and stepped back into the darkened hallway, my heartbeat thundering like drum.

Breaking the Circle

I made my way down the stairs, careful on my towering stilettos, back into the throng. The scenes of debauchery hadn't stopped, but there were a few more men gathering their breath.

The heat and noise hit me like a wall when I reentered the cellar. The air was thick with cigar smoke, the sour stench of whiskey, and something far darker that made my stomach churn.

Laughter echoed over the din of clinking glasses, overlapping conversations, and muffled cries from the girls.

I scanned the room, my heart a thundering drumbeat. Red was still nowhere in sight. Carver lounged against a leather armchair near the bar, his eyes locked on me the moment I stepped in.

His smile was a smudge of grease, the wolfish grin of a man who owned me--or so he thought.

He crooked a finger, beckoning me like a master to a well-trained pet. My stomach turned, but I forced my legs to move.

"There's my Belle," he drawled, wrapping a possessive arm around my waist. His breath reeked of bourbon. "Come now, sugar, you've been holding out on me. There's someone I want you to meet."

He led me toward a group of men clustered by the pool table, their eyes predatory as they watched me approach. One, a man with slicked-back gray hair and a yellowing smile, stepped forward. His gaze slithered over me, making my skin crawl.

"Belle," Carver whispered close to my ear, his grip tightening. "Why don't you show Mr. Temple here a little of that Southern charm?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but before a word could escape, the lights went out.

Darkness swallowed the room whole.

A chorus of shouts erupted--sharp, panicked voices clashing in confusion. Glass shattered somewhere to my left. I heard chairs scrape the floor, the scuffle of hurried footsteps, the rising din of fear.

I dropped. Instinct took over. My knees hit the ground, and I folded my arms over my head, squeezing my eyes shut tight. I knew what was coming.

The bang split the world open.

It wasn't just a sound; it was a shockwave that ripped through the room, rattling my bones and setting my ears ringing.

I curled tighter into myself as chaos exploded around me. The sharp crack of gunfire--one, two, three shots--was followed by more screaming. Boots thundered against the floor, heavy and fast.

"FBI! Get down! Hands where we can see them!"

I risked a glance.

The room was a blur of movement and violence. Men in dark tactical gear and bulletproof vests swarmed in, guns raised. Red dots danced across the walls and the chests of frozen Circle members. Several of the men had already dropped to their knees, hands in the air. Others were too stunned to move.

A woman wearing a bullet proof vest in a suit walked into the room. She was tall with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her face was calm, but with a fiery intensity in her eyes.

She moved like a storm, her sharp eyes sweeping the room, her voice cold and commanding. "Everyone on the ground! Do it now!"

I pushed myself up just as she reached me. Her gaze flicked over me, concern flashing briefly before her professional mask snapped back into place.

"I'm Frankie Mancuso. Are you Belle? Are you hurt?" she asked.

"No," I croaked, my voice trembling. "But there's a theatre... a stage room. Through that door." I pointed with a shaking hand. "Red's in there. She's in one of the cages. Please--"

"We'll get her," Mancuso said firmly, signaling three of agents to head in that direction as more flooded the room from the stairs.

As they moved, I caught sight of Carver.

He fought like a cornered rat, snarling obscenities as two FBI agents wrestled him to the floor. His arms were yanked behind his back, and handcuffs clicked into place.

"You filthy whore!" he spat when he saw me talking with Mancuso. As he realised what this meant, his eyes burned with hate, his face twisted with rage. "I made you! You're nothing without me!"

I smiled. Mancuso lifted me up to my feet and pulled me towards the stairs. The agents who grabbed Carver followed, their hands tight around his thin arms while he spat and swore at them.

Finally I made it to the top of the stairs, free from the subterranean hell hole. As I got there I heard my name called by a familiar voice.

"Belle!"

I turned. It was Tyler, rushing towards me, a blanket in his hands. Relief washed over me as he threw it around my shoulders covering my naked and beaten body, his arms lingering as if to shield me from the world.

"You okay?"

I nodded, my throat too tight for words.

Carver was dragged past us, as he was he laughed, low and vile. "Oh, look at the hero," he sneered. "You think she's yours now? She'll turn on you just like--"

Crack.

Tyler's fist flew.

The sound of the punch was a sharp crack that silenced the room.

Carver's head snapped back. He crumpled, the fight drained from his body as he sagged in the agents' grip.

"And you, you can shut the fuck up and be glad the FBI are here to keep me from killing you," Tyler said, his voice dangerously calm.

Mancuso raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips as she motioned for the agents to haul Carver away.

"Come on," she said to me, her hand gentle on my shoulder. "Let's get you two out of here."

The Circle was broken.

------

I sat down, a cup of hot chocolate cradled between my trembling hands, the warmth seeping into my fingers as if trying to chase away the chill in my bones. Tyler was right beside me, his arms wrapped protectively around my shoulders, holding me as if he could keep me from breaking apart.

Outside, the parade of men began. One by one, they were marched from the lodge--once kings of their sordid little empire, now nothing but crumpled, beaten figures with slumped shoulders and hollow eyes. Losers all of them. Their power had evaporated, their kingdom burned to ashes, and all that remained were broken men, pathetic and small. Each one was now contemplating what awaited them. How their privileged lives were about to be turned upside down.

Then came the girls.

Their faces were a kaleidoscope of emotions--shock, confusion, fear of the unknown. But beyond the worry, I caught flickers of something else: relief. A spark of hope glimmered in a few eyes.

Vanessa emerged last, her face streaked with tears but her spirit unbroken. She raised a fist triumphantly in the air, a fierce, defiant gesture of victory. A small, bitter smile tugged at my lips.

But my heart twisted painfully when I scanned the line again.

There was still no sign of Red.

Mancuso approached, her expression heavy with the burden of unfinished business.

"I'm sorry, Belle," she said softly, her voice edged with frustration. "There was a back escape route--some kind of tunnel under the lodge. The Chief got out with Red."

My heart plummeted.

"We'll find them," she continued, her tone steely with resolve. "You have my word. What you helped us accomplish here tonight--catching them in the act--will bring this whole rotten organization down. It's going to take a massive task force to clean up this mess, but we've got what we need now. You should be proud of yourself, Belle."

I smiled as best I could. I didn't feel proud. I felt hollow, my chest aching with the weight of worry and loss.

Mancuso leaned in closer her voice softer, "You've done a brave thing here Belle. Saved a lot of people. I'm going to make sure Carver suffers. See to it that when he goes down, and he will, that he has a worse time than the hell he put you through."

I leaned into Tyler, tears spilling down my cheeks, my breath hitching in quiet sobs. He stroked my hair, his touch gentle and soothing.

"Come on," he whispered, his voice low and tender. "You've done all you can for Red. Trust Mancuso to find her. Let's get you cleaned up. Wash this place off you."

Before I could answer, he scooped me into his arms.

I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he carried me away from the darkness, away from the nightmare.

------------------------------

If you've been reading along, feeling with Belle and rooting for her, I'd love to hear from you. A message, a comment--even just a kind word--means more than you might think.

Your support keeps this story alive.

With love,

Tania x