Click on image to enlarge.

Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Melinda is astonished to find out that the fiancé she is having second thoughts about marrying has had second thoughts too -- about not enslaving her properly in the first place! Melinda quickly finds out that when a master decides she's a slave, that's just what she is. But can a proper, modern woman with a will of her own be broken, against her will, to the collar? In Level 1, Melinda is rejected her fiancé only to have him turn and enslave her. In Level 2, Melinda's enslavement continues and deepens as she's abused by a group of men she knows only as the Council of Masters ... forced to experience ever-increasing levels of pain and degradation. Terri Pray is today's bestselling author of the bondage and discipline romance.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: July 2010

7 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [123 KB]
Words: 30386
Reading time: 86-121 min.

Chapter One

Melinda's heart raced as she paced her way across the bedroom floor. He was late. It shouldn't have surprised her; he was always late, but she'd held out some small measure of hope and now it had been dashed, again.

He'll pay for it this time, I'm not going to play these games with him, we were supposed to be at the theatre but there's no way we'd have made it in time.

She wasn't going to let him rule her life, and turn it upside down with his little games. She was better than this. Far better than this. Well, it was done, over with and he had pushed too far now. She'd be gone soon enough, even now her bags were packed and waiting for her by the door.

"What in hells name do you think you're doing, Melinda?"

She turned, her gaze hard as she fixed on him. "I'm leaving, Carl."

"What?" His gaze flickered to the bags in the corner of the room. "This is insane, we're supposed to be married next week, what the fuck do you think you're playing at? Everything's set up! The invitations have gone out, people will be--you're not going to do this to me, Melinda!"

"And how do you think you're going to be able to stop me?" Her hands clenched, her eyes wide as she watched him. "The cab's on its way. My bags are packed. I'm gone, out of here. If you think I'm going to hang around, waiting, for the rest of my life, for a man who can't even remember to be here on time. A man who tosses me aside at a whim, then you're out of your mind. I'm not marrying to become some little toy you remember to take out and play with when you've got the time. It's not happening and I'm gone. Goodbye, Carl."

Even as she walked to the bags, to collect them, he stopped her. His hand fastened and tightened on her left upper arm. Fingers dug into her flesh as she whimpered with the pain of his grasp, her jaw all but dropping as she realized what he was doing to her.

"You're going no where." The darkness in his eyes should have been a warning. But if she saw it, she ignored it.

"Like hell, get the fuck off me!" She yanked her arm free of his grasp. "I'm gone, You can't make me stay! I've wasted the better part of my life hanging around for you so let me go, now!"

"Yes, I can make you stay right here!" He half dragged, half pulled her back through the room toward the couch and thrust her down onto the soft cushions. "Sit your fuckin' ass down, before I slap you down so hard you never come back up. Better part of--what the fuck are you on? All I did was turn up late a couple of times."

She gasped, her eyes wide as she stared back up at him. What did he think he was doing? He was insane. Or drunk. No, she'd have smelled the alcohol on his breath. Nothing. Whatever it was that had let loose his temper on her, it wasn't caused by drink. Besides, he'd done more than simply turn up late. There had been nights he hadn't turned up at all. Entire dates he'd missed.

"What do you think you're doing, you can't stop me from..."

"Yes, I can and I will." He didn't let go of her arm. "You're my fiancé and you're not leaving. I should have done this months ago."

"I'm breaking the engagement. What do you think you're going to do? Force me to say the words at the service? You can't do that." Her throat tightened, she wanted to get out of here, before things became worse.

Could they get any worse?

"Watch me!" His free hand slapped through the air before she could stop him. Landing against her cheek with a loud crack that tore a scream from her lips. "I've kept myself hidden from you, but that stops, right now. You're going to find out exactly who and what I am." He leaned close, growling close to her face. "You're mine, and I'm not letting you go."

Her vision blurred from the blow, her cheek throbbed, but more than that, she couldn't believe that he'd actually hit her. "You--you hit me."

"Are you stupid? Of course I just hit you. God!" He let go of her arm and pushed back from the couch with a growl. "Yes, I hit you, and it will only get worse for you from this point, slave. You're going to learn that you've pushed me too far this time. Too fuckin' far!"

"What did you just call me?" Melinda blinked and stared at him, slave? No, she'd heard wrong. This wasn't happening, this was insane, he was--was going to...

"A slave, that's what you are, or what you will be," he turned to look back at her, a growl in his voice that impacted her almost as deeply as his slap across her face. "I was a fool to think I could have a normal relationship. I'm a master, it's who and what I am, and you're not walking out on me. If that means that I have to break you, fully break you to being a slave, so be it!"

This was a dream, a bad dream, she wasn't going to become a slave. It wasn't going to happen to her. "This is a joke, a bad joke and..."

He lunged forward, closing one hand on her throat. She couldn't breathe, his grasp prevented that, her heart raced against her rib cage, until she squirmed and tried to strike out at him. He didn't let her, his hand tightened on her throat, a growl rang out that warned her just how dangerous it would be to strike him at all.

She flinched and lowered her hands, a low whimper spilling from her lips. This was wrong, so very wrong, and this had to be a terrible joke of his. He had to tell her that he was joking, playing a game, and that he was sorry for pushing things too far with her.

"You're my fiancé, I would have tried to make it work, tried to show you that I could live in both worlds, but you've shown me it's not worth the effort. No, you're going to find out what I'm like, without the walls in place, the playing nice and pretending I'm nothing more than a normal, bland man who lets women walk all over him." His grip finally loosened on her throat and he stood up, his gaze fixed on her face. For a moment he didn't move at all, then it happened again, his hand smacked across her face, snapping her head to the side. "You're not leaving this room, or this house, without my permission."

She couldn't think straight. She couldn't think at all. His hand was no longer on her throat, but she could still feel the pressure there, the grip though she knew, in her heart, it wasn't there. "Please, don't--the cab's on its way and..."

"Be silent, slave!"

She whimpered, but bit back a new reply. The last thing she needed, right now, was another slap, the second one had left her shaken to the core, barely able to think straight. What if he went one worse? What if he backhanded her? Or slapped her so hard her lips bled? She'd been lucky so far. Pain and blurred vision. Nothing more. But her luck couldn't hold forever. She swallowed hard and watched him, waiting for some hint that he would attack her again.

It didn't come, not yet at least. She watched him closely, her gaze narrowed. She glanced at the door, then back at Carl. Whatever he had planned, she wasn't going to let him get away with it. She could break free, if he let his guard down for a moment, she'd be able to break free.

"I'm no fool, Melinda, don't think you can dart away from me, it's not going to work." He sat down on the chair opposite her. "You're not the first woman I've trained, nor will you be the last. However, I had hoped this wouldn't happen with you. With you I saw the hope of a life outside of--but no, I was a fool to think that could be possible."

Did that mean he'd snatched women, or something else? She teased the tip of her tongue over her lips, hoping he'd give her a chance to speak.

"Speak, say what is on your mind, but don't attempt to cry for help. Not that anyone would hear you. And, remember, you're a slave now, watch your tone and your words."

A slave, she wasn't going to be a slave, not any way shape or form, but for now she'd play the role and deal with it. She nibbled on her bottom lip and tried to put her thoughts in order before she spoke. "You've stolen--I mean, taking women before, against their wishes? Taken them off the streets? Kidnapped them?"

"Stolen, yes, perhaps that's one way of describing it. Other's have come to me of their own free will, women who wished to learn what it was like to be a slave, to be kneeling at the feet of a man who knows what they must do in order to please someone else. There are women, real women, who understand that they should be submissive to their men, that's something you'll have to learn if you want to survive without punishment every step of the way."

Punishment, god, he couldn't be serious. She kept searching his face for some hint that this was a joke. Or a means to scare her into staying with him. She couldn't believe he'd go this far, that this was serious. He was serious?

Yes, he is, and I can't--no, I won't be a slave, I'm going to find my way out of here, and away from him. She glanced at him and frowned, he didn't seem to even want to give her a chance to escape.

"You'll be taught how to be a slave, Melinda, and it will be the making of you. So, you will sit there and wait. I have a phone call to make. If you try to leave the room, it will go badly for you." He turned and headed for the door, walking out of the room before she had a chance to say a word. "This isn't a joke, or a game. Remember that."

Perhaps it was for the best that he'd left so soon. At least now she had a moment to put her thoughts in order. Her hands shook as she looked at the now closed door. He wasn't joking, but who was he going to call? No doubt he'd send the cab away when it arrived, if he hadn't already.

What was she going to do?

Slipping free wasn't going to be easy. But she'd watch for any sign. Any opening she could take. It would appear. She'd find it.

She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip even as she pushed up from the couch. He'd be elsewhere now and--and did she have a chance to break free? She moved to the door and pressed her ear against it. His voice, she could hear his voice, but not the words themselves, so she wasn't sure what he was talking about, or to.

If she wasn't careful he'd hear her moving across the room, not a good idea. Fuck, how the hell am I going to get out of here without him hearing me? She'd find a way, just maybe not right now. In fact, he'd be expecting her to try now, if she didn't then--then maybe his guard would drop?

No, she knew better, god, she was in trouble right now and she knew it. More trouble than she ever thought possible. She edged back to the couch, trembling, unable to keep her fears under control.

He's joking, he has to be joking...

No, she already knew that he wasn't, the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice and the way her cheek still throbbed from being slapped, all told her that this was real. He was serious about this, and that terrified her. She rubbed her cheek, feeling the heat that radiated from it. He'd truly hit her. Not just once either, but twice. If he was willing to go that far, what else did he have planned?

No, he's not, I'm still dressed and I'm not being treated like one, so maybe he's changed his mind?

She wiped her hands on her jeans and tried to wipe away the sweat. It didn't work. Her stomach knotted, throat tightened as she sat there, and watched the door. He'd return soon enough, of that she was certain and then what would happen to her?

God, she didn't want to think about it, not with how he had treated her earlier. However, he might have softened toward her. Right, and I'm trapped here until he returns and tells me one way or the other, so what can I do but wait, and try to keep calm.

Tears stung in her eyes, as she lowered her head and tried to keep herself from crying. It didn't work, tears slipped down her cheeks as she waited for Carl to return, she'd had everything planned out, she had meant to be gone from here and then...

She jolted bolt upright as she heard the sound of his steps outside of the room, he'd returned...

She folded her hands into her lap and tried to hide what she felt as she looked around the room, her gaze flickering to the door even as it opened in front of her. Had she done the right thing in staying in the room? Yes, she had to believe that. He'd have been expecting her to try and make a break for it now. She wasn't going to do anything obvious in order to break free. Not with how he'd already been willing to slap her around. When she made a break for it, it had to be at the right time.

"Good, you didn't try and leave the room, that shows a little intelligence on your part. Stand and strip, slave, fully, you can fold your clothes onto the couch."

"Strip--oh, you can't mean that--no, I won't do it," she trembled as she pushed to her feet. "This is foolish, I'm not a slave, I'm..."

"Be very careful on what your next words are, slave, be very careful indeed if you want to end the night without punishment." He took a step toward her, his gaze dark and dangerous. "Strip, fold your clothes and put them on the couch, I will not tell you again. You already know that I'm willing to punish you, and you don't want to be on the receiving end of my anger, slave."

She wanted to die, curl up and die, this obviously wasn't a joke, and she was in more trouble than she'd ever faced in her life. "Carl, think about this, please," her fingers moved to the buttons on her shirt even as she spoke. "You loved me once, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did, however that's not a part of this situation, slave. There's no argument, here, I should have done this a long time ago instead of wasting a year as your fiancé. I knew, the first time I looked at you, that you were meant to be on your knees, like a fool I ignored that compulsion. No longer, you'll be what nature intended you to be, a slave at the feet of men."

Insane, he's insane and he's on some kick about men being dominant when--when everyone knows that's a bunch of crap. Except it was something he believed in and he'd already hit her twice...

She closed her eyes and unbuttoned her shirt without another word, pushing him any more right now would have been the act of a fool. This wasn't a game, oh, god, this wasn't a game. Her hands shook as she tugged the shirt from her body. She shook, violently so, she'd been naked in front of him before, but never like this. Not like this!

"That's it, get used to following orders, slave. Your life will be ruled by your ability to follow orders and be obedient. Either obey, or be punished, there is no middle ground." His voice never lost its cold tone. "You have a body made for the use and abuse a slave must endure."

Her gaze flickered toward the door, then back at him. She had to leave, now! Melinda tossed the shirt at him, hoping it would distract him long enough to make a difference, as she darted for the door. Her hands closed on the handle before she heard him growl. She tugged at the door, flinging it open and managed to make it out into the hallway--if only a dozen steps--before he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her down to the floor.

She screamed, arching with the pain as she hit the floor hard and fast, the breath knocked from her body. She kicked out, trying to break free of his grasp. It didn't work. His grip tightened on her hair.

Her fists balled as she lashed out at him. Her left hand connecting with his jaw.

"Stupid, very stupid." He yanked her back toward the room, not giving her a chance to reply. "You're a fool for trying this move, slut!"

Melinda sobbed, kicked and struggled, desperate to break free from his grasp. It didn't work. She felt hair snap, her scalp lanced with shards of pain as he used her hair as a grip to manhandle her into the room, kicking the door shut before he let go. "Please, I want to go home. I'm not meant to do this, I'm not a slave."

"This is your home, or was, slut. If you'd acted like a real woman than this wouldn't have happened to you, you'd have known your place instead of acting as if you were owed something. From this point on you are nothing but a slave."

She hadn't acted that way, no matter what he thought, she hadn't acted like that she'd just expected him to be a fiancé, not an asshole and certainly not the monster he'd turned into. She whimpered and pressed one hand to her head, her scalp moist, was she bleeding?

"Strip, now!" He snapped the order at her.

She could barely see straight, her vision was dazed, her head ached, her scalp perhaps even now bleeding. Yet, he wasn't going to listen to excuses. He was watching her too closely, a second attempt to escape would only bring her more pain. She couldn't risk it.

Not this time at least, she needed to wait for a little longer, for a chance when he'd lower his guard again. If he ever did again. She'd acted too soon. Now she'd paid for it. Paid for her fears.

If she'd only waited a little longer then she might have made it.

She opened her jeans and slid out of them, kicking her shoes off at the same time. She wanted to cry. Wanted to get away from him, but she couldn't, not without help. And where was she supposed to get that help from? No where that she knew of, all she could do was strip and hope that would ease the tension. His gaze didn't flicker when she stripped off her bra and panties, adding them to the clothes on the couch.

"Get the shirt, bitch."

The shirt? It took a moment before she remembered why it wasn't already on the couch, she'd thrown it at him. She looked up at him and moved, quickly, to the now abandoned shirt on the floor. She grabbed the shirt and hurried back to the couch, setting it down on the couch. Nude, she was completely nude in front of him. He'd seen her naked before, but not like this. Not afraid and helpless, with her head aching, this was different in a way that left her feeling sick.

"Kneel, thighs spread, hands behind your back, crossed at the wrists." His voice sent shivers down her spine.

Her thighs apart, hands crossed? She wanted to argue with him, but didn't, she wasn't that stupid. Melinda settled onto her knees in front of the couch, parting her thighs before she crossed her wrists behind her back. Exposed, she was exposed like this, badly. Heat flushed across her cheeks, but she kept silent, she wasn't going to give into the urge to scream a protest at him.

"Good, very good, now bow your head, keep your gaze fixed on the floor."

She bit into her bottom lip but obeyed him without hesitation. Her hair slipped over her eyes, veiling her vision, though all she could now see was the rug beneath her knees. The fiber dug into her knees. She took a deep breath and struggled to hold position.

I'm only doing this to stop him from hitting me, that's all. That's why. No other reason.

It didn't sound right, even to Melinda, she knew the truth and that terrified her.

How long she'd been kneeling there, she had no idea, only that she hadn't been given permission to move. Her limbs ached, her knees protested, but still she didn't move. At least he hadn't done anything else to her, not yet at least.

Carl had made two more phone calls, both of them outside of the room. The door open. And strict instructions given to Melinda not to move. She'd obeyed. Obviously. With the way he watched her, the way he didn't give her an inch, she wasn't going to disobey him. She'd been foolish to take her chances that early.

The door opened, the front door, she'd know that sound anywhere and with the door to the room also open she could hear it. There was no doubt about that. She swallowed hard. She tried to keep herself calm, but it didn't happen. Tension and fear merged into one.

"Carl, you here?" A strange, male voice called out. Or at least it was strange to her. No one she recognized. "Carl!"

"Yes, in here."

The newcomer walked into the room, but as she wasn't allowed to look up all she was able to see were a pair of black, well polished, shoes. Whoever the man was, she wasn't happy being found this way by him.

"Hm, interesting. I thought you were marrying this one. She looks better on her knees however, so I'm not going to argue with you."

"So did I, but no more."

"What changed?" The newcomer walked a little closer, his voice low pitched and smooth. "Last I heard you were happy with her."

"She tried to leave," Carl moved into line of sight. "I wasn't in the mood to let her walk out."

"So, why am I here? I would have thought you'd be able to handle her as you know her well enough."

"I can't train her, I wouldn't be objective."

"Ah, I see." The newcomer frowned. "So, you need me for that? I see."

"I need you to do it for me, if she's worth the trouble I'll buy her from you, if not, feel free to sell her on." Carl explained. "I don't want to have to just throw her away."

Sell her--no, this wasn't happening! She wasn't going to be sold. No matter what happened between now and then, she was going to find a way to be free of him. Of Carl. Of whoever this newcomer was.

She wasn't going to be here. Not like this. There had to be a way to fight free of him, of them. She swallowed hard and tried to keep her nerves under control. The urge to be sick grew with each passing moment. Cold sweat coated her flesh, she shivered as she struggled to fight past the wave of terror.

"And you expect me to buy a worthless piece of flesh like this? You're insane. Completely and utterly insane." He laughed, but didn't move any closer to her. "I'm not buying her."

"You don't have to. I'm making a gift of her to you. I wouldn't expect you to pay for an untrained slut."

She could stay still no longer and jerked her head up, her gaze focused on Carl. This wasn't happening. This was insane. "You--you can't do this. I'm not a piece of property to be bought and sold, or given away!"

"Be silent, slave. You were told what you had to do, now do it." Carl snapped. "You're nothing but an animal and have no say in what happens to you."

She flinched, but didn't lower her gaze. "I-I'm not going to..."

The blow came from no where. Hard and fast as it slapped across her face, sending her to the floor with a scream of pain. Blood marred her lips. Her vision dazed. Her hands hit the floor, scraping her palms on the floor. She stared at the floor, blinking, trying to clear her vision. It didn't work.

"Kneel, head bowed, gaze to the floor. Now slut!" The newcomer growled, standing over her.

She couldn't focus, the blood on her lips was heavy, and her stomach threatened to rebel. She didn't want to move, but he'd hit her again. She didn't want to kneel up, but she had no other choice. Slowly, shaking, her body protesting every move she made, she settled back on her knees, her head bowed, gaze fixed on the floor.

This hadn't happened to her.

Yes, of course it has, what else do I think I'm going through here? I'm bleeding! She wanted to spit the blood from her mouth, but didn't dare. What if that pissed them off even more? No, she wasn't going to risk it.

"Better, move again and I'll strip the skin from your back." Eric growled.

She swallowed hard, trembling, her gaze unfocused as she held position. Had he knocked one of her teeth loose? A quick touch of her tongue against her teeth told her she was wrong. Her teeth were fine. She wasn't, she was far from fine, she was shaking, in pain and terrified of what they would do next.

"I see, she's a strong willed one, isn't she?" He mused, pacing across the room. "Not many would need to be knocked down like that. It's not the first time she's been hit today either. Has it?"

"No, it is but yes, she has a strong will, and I fear she might know what buttons to push in me, not a wise idea. She would be better with you. In the hands of someone she doesn't know, who can't be manipulated by her. Take her, and you'll be doing a favor for me, one I will repay." He looked around the room and fixed his gaze on the now kneeling, trembling woman. "She will do better in your hands than mine. I've no doubt of that."

Would she be able to turn Carl to her view point? It might have worked, if she'd calmed down enough to think it through.

"All right, I'll take her, but with the following understanding. The decision to sell her is mine, not yours."

"If you decide not to sell her..."

"You accept it and move on." Eric explained calmly.

She wanted to cry, scream, tell them to stop what they were doing. Her throbbing face told her no. Speaking was wrong, unless they told her to do so. I'm already doing what they want, this is wrong--so very wrong. No, it was right, it was keeping her safe. Or safe for now, which was all that mattered. She swallowed hard and kept her focus on the rug.

"Agreed," Carl turned and walked to the other side of the room. "Take her, before I change my mind about this deal."

He didn't want to give her up. She could hear that in his voice. Hope soared into life even as it crashed and burned, he might not want to give her up, but he was going to regardless. He was setting her aside.

No, not setting, he was sending her away, giving her to a man she didn't know. To one she would never know except as the man who owned her.

Owned, she'd never heard of such a thing before. She'd never even heard of a slave before--well, no that wasn't true. She'd heard of them, but as historical references, or people in other countries who were enslaved through war, or drug runners, not something like this.

She could barely think straight. She had no idea what she was supposed to do in order to find a way to push past this, to survive this. There had to be a way to break free...

"Stand up, slave, but keep your head bowed."

Melinda pushed to her feet, her head bowed, and brought her arms around her body, trying to cover her breasts. She wanted to cover herself, all of herself. But she only had two hands. If she shifted her hands and...

"Hands down, cross them behind your back, slave. Don't try to cover yourself up without permission. You're a slave, anyone can look at you if they wish to. Remember that, slave, remember that and you'll survive."

Survive? Yes, she wanted to survive, she needed to do that. Her world had been turned upside down and she'd find a way to bring it back into line. Into focus. She lowered her hands and crossed them behind her back, her head still bowed. How was she supposed to see where she was going if her head was bowed?

He's going to take me outside, naked? No, this isn't happening to me. It makes no sense to take me out like this. He'll be spotted!

Her heart skipped a beat. Someone was likely to see her and then they'd call the cops, there was a way out of this.

"How are you planning on getting her out?"

"You still have those sacks? We might need them, as a means to get her out of the house."

"Yes, ah, you're going to carry her out of here in a sack? Hm, you'll need someone else to help carry her out, she's not going to be easy to lift out. You know that, yeah, of course you do."

"Yes, but you're going to help, aren't you? Or did you expect me to get her out of here on my own?"

"Yes, of course I'm going to help," he walked back over and cupped Melinda's chin, forcing her to lift her head up. "Look at me, slave."

Melinda lifted her gaze her heart pounding against her chest. What was she going to see in his eyes? She flinched as soon as she met his gaze, a cold wash of sweat coated her flesh in a heartbeat. She licked her lips, tasting the drying blood that stuck to them, she wasn't even sure she'd be allowed to speak, but the hope was there.

"You will learn, you will suffer, and you will be trained. In time, I might see you again and make you my own, but until then you will obey Eric as if your life depended upon it."

She nodded, uncertain if speech was allowed to her right now. Better to be on the safe side, she knew that, but it didn't make it easy for her. Cold sweat coated the palms of her hands. Her shoulders tensed, stomach knotted as she waited to see what would happen next.

"You may speak, for now, slave and tell me you understand what you are to do."

"Th-thank you," fear claimed her, this was all too real and she knew that it wasn't a trick played on her to frighten her into staying with him. "I--I am to learn to be a good slave, and follow the training. I understand that's what I'm to do."

"You forgot a word, slave, a word all slaves must use when addressing a man like me, or like Eric." Carl snarled the words out.

A word, what had she forgotten? Melinda stood there, shaking, all too well aware of the touch of his hand on her chin. "Master?"

"Yes, that's right. You're to call me Master, as you will call any other man you are introduced, unless you're specifically told otherwise."

Her stomach knotted. Calling someone master didn't feel right, but if she had to do it, she would. Shit, she'd do whatever she had to in order to find a way to survive this mess.

"So, before you take her away, perhaps a small lesson in how she should expect to be treated?" Carl suggested. "Something that would set the tone of the life ahead of her."

"I might be open to it. What do you have in mind?"

"She's to be a full slave, correct?"

"Indeed, what else would she be? I don't believe in training house slaves. They're glorified servants without pay. No, better she learn the full duties of a slave. That they can be called upon for any type of service."

"Then a joint using of her body would be in order." Carl's voice dropped into a low, husky, whisper. "Don't you think?"

"Hm, you've had her before though, so what would be gained? She's nothing spectacular after all."

"I've never used her as a slave, Eric. I would like to try that with her before she's fully surrendered into your arms."

Her stomach knotted and twisted. They were serious. So deadly serious about this. She had to find a way out, but how? They were blocking the door, and she was naked, they'd also be expecting her to run.

Better to wait. They were just going to fuck her. Nothing serious. She could handle that. It was only sex, how bad could it really be? She wasn't a virgin. She had nothing to be afraid of. So what if her face hurt from the beating they'd given her. They weren't about to spoil their use of her that way.