Dark Obsessions - Volume 2: Four Dark, Delicious Capture Fantasies

by Claire Thompson

  Woodenly Mara answered, her mind scrambling all the while to think of a way to get out of whatever was going to happen, and coming up blank.

  When he was done with the questions, the doctor set aside the tablet and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm. He pressed the button on the small box attached to the cord. The machine beeped as the cuff tightened and the doctor regarded the screen.

  “Blood pressure’s way high, but I doubt it means much, seeing as it’s your first day and all. You’re probably scared out of your wits, am I right?”

  Mara nodded. “Please,” she tried yet again. “Can you help me, Doctor? I’m not supposed to be here. I was kidnapped. You have to—”

  “Stop,” the doctor said, placing his hand firmly over her mouth. “Not another word. I don’t want to hear your sad tale of woe.” He looked her over. “You’re young and stupid. You think life is supposed to be fair and people are basically good at heart.” He shook his head, his expression darkening. “Well, think again, little girl. Life sucks and most people are assholes. The sooner you figure that out, the better off you’ll be. Meanwhile, keep your head down and your mouth shut.” He chuckled. “Except, of course, when someone wants it open.”

  He removed his hand and stood, turning toward the counter, his back to her. Not ready to give up, Mara scanned the room, searching for something she might use as a weapon. The doctor turned back to her, a needle and glass vial in his now gloved hands. “I’m going to take some blood and then we’ll do the exam and insertion. Stay still and behave. I’ll be asked for a report on your conduct, and I’m sure you want good marks. You know what they say—good girls get rewarded, bad girls…” He trailed off. “Go on, tell me,” he said, his eyes glinting cruelly. “What happens to bad girls here on Pirate Island, Mara?”

  Her mouth dry with fear, Mara managed to whisper, “They get punished.”

  “That’s right.” The doctor nodded. “Now hold still.” He slid the tip of the needle into her arm. Mara looked away, never keen on seeing her own blood. When he was done, he pressed a cotton ball over the tiny prick and covered that with an adhesive bandage.

  “Okay, up on the table, feet in the stirrups,” he ordered. Numbly, Mara complied. To her extreme dismay, he drew Velcro straps tightly around her ankles to hold her forcibly in place. Standing between her spread legs, the doctor palpated her organs and roughly squeezed and massaged her breasts. He squirted lubricant on his gloved fingers and, pulling the stool between her legs, sat down, his face close to her spread sex. He inserted a finger deep inside her, the palm of his other hand pressing uncomfortably against her stomach as he tilted his head in concentration.

  Apparently satisfied, he then pushed a finger suddenly into her anus, and Mara yelped with embarrassed surprise. After a moment the finger was withdrawn. The doctor stood and moved to the counter, where he stripped the gloves from his hands and dropped them into a trashcan. Slipping on another pair of gloves, he returned to her, holding a speculum.

  “I’m going to do a Pap and insert the IUD. You’re doing very well. I’m going to insert the speculum now, so stay nice and still.”

  Mara swallowed hard and blew out a breath. She wanted to yank the speculum from the man’s grasp and bash him in the head with it. She tensed as the cold, gooey metal was inserted and slowly but inexorably opened to spread her wide. There was an unpleasant but brief poke against her cervix. Sitting back, the doctor dabbed the tip of the long-stemmed cotton swab against a glass slide and then set the slide and swab on the countertop.

  Leaving the speculum open wide inside her, the doctor unwrapped something and held it up for her to see. Made of white plastic, it looked like the battery-operated cocktail stirrer her father had kept in his bar, with a T-shaped device a few inches long attached to the end of it. “This little thing at the end is the IUD and this”—he ran his gloved finger along the stem—“is the handy-dandy inserter.” He grinned at her. “Insertion is a piece of cake. First I’m going to swab your cervix with an antiseptic, and then we’ll insert the IUD. Since you just had your period a week ago, the timing couldn’t be better. You’ll be ready for use in a day or so.”

  Mara didn’t like the sound of that at all. “I don’t want that thing in me,” she pleaded. “I don’t want any of this.”

  The doctor shook his head. “Trust me, girl, you’d way rather have this than a baby in your belly. I do abortions, but why put yourself through that?”

  Mara couldn’t stop trembling as the horrid man leaned forward on the stool between her legs. She jumped when the cotton swab touched her sensitive cervix. She moaned with pain when the long, thin tube was pushed up through her cervix, causing a sharp cramp deep inside her womb.

  “That’s it,” the doctor said with a triumphant grin, holding up the insertion tube minus the IUD. “I told you it was a piece of cake.”

  To her relief, he removed the speculum. Mara ached to close her legs. “Can I get up now?” she begged.

  “Not just yet,” the man said. “I’m not quite done with my, uh, examination.” The way he said the word sent a shiver of dread through Mara’s body and she tensed, unsure what to expect.

  To her shock, the man began to stroke her labia with his lubricated, gloved fingers. He rubbed hard against her clit with two fingers while slipping a finger of his other hand inside her. “No!” Mara protested, lifting her head. “Stop!” She tensed with revulsion at his touch but didn’t dare try to stop him.

  “You know you love it,” the man said with a laugh. “Come on, baby, come for Papa. Show me what a good little slut girl you are.” His finger still inside her, his other hand fell away from her vulva and moved toward his fly. She watched in silent horror as the man pulled his cock from his shorts.

  He finger fucked her with rapid, rough strokes as he pumped his shaft. Mercifully, he came quickly with spasmodic jerks, his disgusting jism spattering her thigh. “Ah,” he sighed happily, pulling his finger from inside her and wiping it on her other thigh. “I needed that.”

  He tucked his deflated cock back into his shorts. “You can expect regular, uh, exams on at least a weekly basis.” He gripped his crotch in a rude way. “All part of my primo service.” He bared his teeth like a wild animal. It took Mara a moment to realize he was smiling.

  He released her legs from the stirrups and tossed her a paper towel. As Mara wiped his disgusting ejaculate from her legs, he added, “You can sit in the waiting room while I analyze the results, and then, assuming you’re STD-free, Ronaldo and I will take you over for the owners’ inspection.”

  Mara moved on shaky legs into the waiting room. She slumped into a chair. The cramps had mostly subsided but the thought of that foreign object forcibly inserted into her body made her sick, especially when she considered what it meant for her going forward.

  She looked around the waiting room and then through the glass partition that separated her from the doctor, her ears pricked for any sound of movement. She heard nothing. Cautiously she rose from her chair and moved toward the front door, which was flanked on either side by narrow floor-to-ceiling windows.

  Slowly, silently, she turned the doorknob, her heart beating fast. It was locked. Mara studied the window frames, looking for release latches. She might just be able to wriggle through one of the windows, if she could get it open.

  “Enjoying the view?”

  Mara jumped at the sound of the doctor’s voice behind her. She whirled around, instinctively hiding her guilty hands behind her back. “Oh, I—”

  “Save it,” he cut her off. “I know what you were doing. Here’s my advice—don’t be stupid.” Mara said nothing. After a moment, he continued, “Here’s the good news—your results were all negative. You’re in the peak of health and ready for inspection.”

  The doctor pressed a series of numbers on the keypad below the lock, opened the front door and forcibly guided Mara through. Ronaldo was leaning against the side of the building, a cigarette in his hand. He dropped the cigarette w
hen he saw them, grinding it beneath his foot and then retrieving the butt, which he put into his pocket.

  As Ronaldo climbed into the driver’s seat, the doctor pushed Mara down onto the seat and sat beside her so she was firmly wedged between the two men. The doctor placed his hand on the back of her neck as Ronaldo engaged the engine and glided the cart along the path.

  He pulled to a stop in front of the bungalow. “I’ll take it from here, amigo,” the doctor said as he climbed out and hauled Mara upright. Ronaldo offered a quick salute and drove away.

  His arm tightly around her waist, the doctor hustled her toward the front door. He pressed the buzzer and waited a moment until the lock was released. Opening the door, he pushed Mara in ahead of him.

  This time the three men were in the main room, Dan Wallace and DJ on either end of a long couch, Alex in a chair. Mara’s eye fell on the cell phone resting on an end table beside his chair.

  “Nice,” DJ said, dragging out the word as he raked Mara’s naked body with an insolent gaze. “Smooth as a baby.”

  “What’s the report, Chuck?” Wallace asked. “All good?”

  The doctor nodded. “She’s clean as a whistle and birth control is in place. No vaginal penetration for twenty-four hours, otherwise, she’s all yours.”

  Mara most emphatically did not like the sound of that. Somehow she had to get out of here. She had to get off this island.

  “Excellent. Good work, Doctor,” Alex said.

  “Yes, well done, Chuck. Would you care for a drink?”

  “Sure,” the doctor replied.

  Alex stood. “I’ll get it. Your usual?” The doctor nodded and Alex moved toward a bar in a corner of the room. Mara’s gaze slid once more to the cell phone, which he’d left beside his chair. She was standing alone in the center of the room, the doctor and Alex now by the bar, the two others seated on the couch. If she could just punch in 9-1-1, someone would have to come, wouldn’t they? Even if she didn’t get a chance to speak, a coast guard or someone would ping the phone and follow up to make sure everything was okay, wouldn’t they?

  She stole a glance at Alex, who had his back to her. It was now or never.

  All at once, she hurtled herself toward the table and snatched up the phone. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely punch in the numbers. 9-1-1, yes! Her finger was poised over the send button when a sharp pain in her wrist made her cry out. The phone fell with a clatter from her hand to the ground.

  In the next instant the floor rose suddenly to meet her face, her shoulder and right cheekbone making hard contact with the cool tile. Her arm was wrenched sharply behind her back and she screamed.

  “Hey, there, ease up. Take it easy, DJ,” Wallace said from above. “What the hell just happened?”

  “The little cunt was trying to use the phone.” DJ’s voice rumbled near her ear. He jerked her arm higher and she cried out again.

  “Let her up.” This time it was Alex’s voice. Her arm was released and Mara was hauled roughly to her feet. DJ remained behind her, his hands on her shoulders. Alex regarded her with a cold gaze. “What was that about, Mara?”

  She turned away, tears burning in her eyes, her heart still beating wildly in her chest.

  Hard fingers gripped her chin, forcing her head upright. Alex leaned in close, his face inches from hers. “I said, what was that about? Answer the question. What were you doing?”

  Like he didn’t know, the bastard. She wanted to spit in his face. She wanted to kick him in the balls. Naked, powerless, alone, she just stood there, staring back at him. His lips lifted into a small amused smile. He reached for her throat and gripped it, squeezing lightly at first, and then harder, until she began to choke, the pressure building in her skull. She struggled but DJ held her firm. Over the blood roaring in her ears, she heard Alex say in a calm voice, “You’re in a lot of trouble, little girl. I asked you a question. You will answer the question or it will go so much worse for you.”

  Mercifully, he let go and she sucked in a bushel of air between sputtering coughs. He stared at her, waiting.

  “I was trying to call for help.” Her voice trembled. “I was trying to call 9-1-1.”

  “Oh dear, dear, dear,” Alex replied with heavy sarcasm, shaking his head. “Tell me, Mara, is that how a good girl behaves?” He cocked an eyebrow as he waited for her answer.

  By whose definition, you fucking asshole, she wanted to scream. He continued to stare. Mara mumbled a reply.

  “What’s that? Speak up, girl.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Both eyebrows now lifted in mock incredulity. “Then I’ll tell you. Good girls don’t grab other people’s things without permission. Good girls do what they’re told.” He reached toward her face and Mara instinctively squeezed her eyes shut and shrank back against DJ, sure Alex was going to slap her. DJ held her fast.

  Instead of a stinging blow, however, Alex gently stroked her cheek. “Bad girls,” he said softly, caressing the words, “get punished.” His face was suffused with a strange, demonic light and Mara shivered with pure terror.

  “That’s right,” Wallace said, appearing suddenly behind Alex. “But before you teach her a lesson, I want to inspect the goods. This girl has a mouth on her like ripe strawberries. I want to see if she’s as sweet as she looks.”

  “Yeah,” DJ chimed in, pressing his groin into her lower back, his erection hard against her. “And her ass belongs to me.”

  The evil slid from Alex’s expression, a mask of smooth, pleasant indifference taking its place. He stepped back and turned toward Wallace. “Of course. You two have your fun, by all means.”

  “I’ll let you know when it’s your turn, DJ,” Wallace said with a nasty grin. He stared at Mara with canine eagerness, his tongue appearing on his lower lip. “Come on, girl. Time’s a wasting.”

  Grabbing Mara by the arm, he dragged her into the first room along a short hallway. It was a bedroom with a queen bed and a bureau, a large mirror set directly across from the bed, another mirror on the ceiling. Dan closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock. He pocketed the key. As he began to unbuckle his belt, panic kicked like a mule in Mara’s gut. “Please, Mr. Wallace,” she begged, “don’t do this. You have a daughter older than me.”

  He looked up from his pants. “So? You’re twenty-six, well over the age of consent.”

  “But I don’t consent,” she blurted desperately. “I’m here against my will.” She wrapped her arms around her torso as if that could somehow protect her.

  He stared at her a moment, his mouth slack. Then he burst out laughing. “You’ve certainly got spunk, I’ll give you that.” He continued to chuckle. “But your consent isn’t at issue here, girl. You’re property, don’t you get that yet? You’re nothing more than a piece of ass.”

  Not bothering to remove his shirt, Dan let his shorts fall to his ankles, revealing a sizable bulge in his black underwear as he stepped out of his flip-flops and let the shorts puddle on top of them. He was still strong and fit, his abs tight, his muscular legs covered in dark curly hair.

  “Now, the doc says I can’t fuck you yet, but I definitely want that sweet little mouth of yours on my cock, so get to it, girl. Get on your knees and service me. Use your hands and make sure you swallow.” As he spoke, Dan tugged at his underwear and pulled it down his legs, kicking it away. He placed his hands on his hips, his large, erect cock jutting in Mara’s direction, not a trace of self-consciousness on his face.

  Mara stared, frozen in place, as the man’s words ripped through her mind like jagged pieces of glass. “Go on. Get to it,” he demanded, no longer chuckling. He lunged toward her, his hands landing hard on her shoulders and forcing her to her knees.

  Grabbing a handful of her hair, he yanked her forward and pressed the head of his cock against her lips. “Open your mouth, damn it,” he snapped, his grip tightening painfully in her hair. “You’re already going to be punished for that stunt with the pho
ne. You want to make it even worse for yourself? Suck my dick, you stupid cunt. Make sure you don’t bite me, or I’ll beat you myself.”

  Terrified, Mara parted her lips. Using her hair as a handle, Dan pulled her onto his shaft. He began to thrust back and forth, making her gag each time the head of his cock touched the back of her throat. At least his grip had eased in her hair.

  “Your hands,” he urged, still thrusting. “Stroke my nuts.”

  Reluctantly Mara reached for the man’s pendulous, hairy balls. As she cupped his ball sac, she squelched the aching desire to crush the man’s testicles in her fist.

  “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah,” Wallace gasped, choking Mara with each increasingly urgent thrust. All at once he stiffened and then shuddered in a series of tiny convulsions, his jism sliding like raw egg whites down her throat. Finally he let her go and fell back against the bed with a satisfied groan.

  Mara swallowed several times, trying to get the taste of the man’s mushroomy spunk from her throat. Wallace had his eyes closed. Mara glanced at the door, recalling the key that he’d slipped into the pocket of the shorts now lying on the floor only a foot or so away. Did she dare?

  The sound of movement on the bed brought her eyes back to Wallace. He sat up, his self-satisfied smile not unlike the doctor’s after he’d jerked off on her thigh. He regarded her appraisingly and then shrugged. “You could use some work, but hey”—he grinned unpleasantly—“practice makes perfect. Before long, you’ll be able to suck the paint off the side of a barn, little darlin’.” He stood and reached for his underwear, which he pulled on, followed by his shorts.

  As he was buckling his belt back into place, he gestured with his head toward a pocket door Mara hadn’t noticed. “Bathroom’s through there if you want to wash your face or whatever. Then wait there on the bed. DJ’ll be along shortly.”