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Hunted!

Page 2

by Terri Pray


  As though he needed a reason?

  Celeste glanced up at him just in time to see Davien disappear into his study. A room she had seldom been in, but the rare visits had always meant her silent obedience and near animal like status. She paused for a moment, trying to force her rolling stomach into some level of calm before she finally crawled into the lush room after him.

  Thick carpet, a fire that crackled and exuded warmth from the hearth, oil lamps adding an extra source of light when called for, but for now the main source of light came from the sunshine that shone in through the large windows.

  Wealth, real wealth, was often measured by the amount of money spent on good glass. Not the musty, barely see through glass that passed in the village near her home. But the crystal clear class that filled Davien's windows. Her Master, no matter how much she loathed him, did not lack for wealth. Just the sort of man her sister would have done her best to become close to or perhaps even seek as a husband.

  No, a long-term lover would have been more her taste.

  “Here.” Davien pointed to a spot beside his desk without even glancing back at her. His attention, at least for now, was on the covered tray that contained his breakfast. Judging from the waves of steam that curled upwards when her owner pulled away the covers, she had missed giving him a reason to punish her again.

  Celeste crawled towards the side of the desk and settled on there on her knees. Meat, sausage from the smell of it, and toast, eggs as well. Her stomach growled at the delicious smells that teased her senses. He would eat first and if he remembered she would be fed via scraps tossed into a bowl. If the bowl had even been placed on the tray to begin with. If not then she would go hungry for a few hours extra. If she were lucky some time around noon she would have the chance to slip into the kitchen and steal a small piece of bread, or a slice of cheese.

  That carried a risk, a small one, of being caught but she'd paid the price before now of paying the cook in the only way a woman in her position could. With her body. Thanks to Davien she had been reduced to nothing more than a common whore.

  Her stomach rumbled as she forced her gaze to the floor. Ignore the smells of his breakfast, shut out the fact he had denied her food for over a day now. Just another one of his training methods no doubt. There had been no reason to deny her a meal yesterday but none had been offered to her and when she had tried to plead for one the result had been finding herself locked in the cage far earlier than normal.

  Accept what he did.

  Live with it.

  Find ways to please him.

  Oh she knew the drill all too well by now. It did not mean she had to like it.

  For several long minutes Celeste knelt in silence in the study, her gaze lowered to the lush carpet, hands loose on her thighs. She had become all too used to the tingling in her thighs and calves with the growing pressure from kneeling for such a long time, pins and needles that she had learned to stave off by tensing and relaxing her muscles. It did not keep the painful sensation away forever, but it did help keep her ready to move without dealing with the protests from her thighs when he gave the order.

  She could hear him eating.

  Bastard.

  Would it have killed him to pass her a little something to eat?

  Her stomach knotted, salvia built in her mouth at the thought of the rich sausages on his plate, the creamy scrambled eggs made with fresh cream and some ham. What else would there be? Thick slices of toast with lashing of butter and jam? She had been able to smell the fresh bread from the moment he had opened the door of the bedroom. The kitchen would have been a hive of activity for hours with the news of the guests arriving.

  “Hungry, slut?”

  “Yes, Master.” How much of a chance did she have to get something to eat? None if she lied or tried to play the hero about how hungry she felt, that much was obvious. A day without food was not that long, but still enough to leave her craving the food she knew was on his plate.

  “And do you deserve something to eat?”

  Damn loaded question. “If you believe so Master, though I am hungry, I know the choice resides with you.” There that should fall within what he saw as acceptable answers.

  “Clever slut, but first you can earn a bite to eat.”

  The color drained from her face. Earn her breakfast? She had heard that before. “How do you wish me to serve you, Master?”

  “Kneel up, open your mouth and serve me that way.”

  Shaking Celeste moved to her knees fully, parting her thighs wide until the muscles of her inner thighs pulled taut. A soft arch pressed into her back, lifting up her breasts the way he had insisted she should prepare herself for such a service. He liked to look down on her body as she knelt like that, to see the tips of her breasts as his cock thrust between her soft lips.

  “Do you beg to serve me, slut?”

  “Yes Master, I beg to serve you with my mouth if that is how you wish your pleasure this morning.”

  “And should I cum in your sweet mouth, pet?”

  “Then I will swallow it as you desire.” Never waste a drop, she knew that and knew the punishment that would follow if she failed and spilt the offering of his sexual release. A slap would be the least of her problems.

  “Open.” The single word was growled out.

  Her lips parted softly, tension building in the pit of her stomach, her hands resting loose on her thighs as she waited to feel his cock press into her mouth. For several long moments nothing happened. Her muscles bunched across her shoulders as she listened to the sound of his breathing, hers and the clock on the mantelpiece.

  How long did he plan on keeping her waiting?

  Or was this yet another test.

  Her jaw ached as the clock ticked on the wooden shelf above the fire, yet still she kept in position, waiting to feel the head of his cock brush over her lips before he thrust into the depths of her mouth.

  Oh gods, it was happening again. That ripple of need, of desire that she wanted to deny existed in her. How could she give into this? No, she had to shut it down, control it. She wasn't a thing that became wanton under his control.

  So why had it begun?

  Because she had given up, a part of her had given up and already begun to turn into the slut he desired her to be. A creature whose only thoughts focused on obeying him, on the pleasure she could give him, and for what?

  For the taste of good food and the eventual chance to sleep in a bed again.

  Heat throbbed through her nipples, down her stomach into her swollen labia. Could he smell her now? That subtle seductive aroma of her arousal as she sat with her mouth open for his use at his feet? Not that it mattered, he wanted her there and waiting, so there she would kneel.

  “You didn't move?”

  She shook her head softly, but kept her mouth open. She knew better than to speak when she had been put into a position that meant keeping her mouth ready for his use.

  “A pity, I had hoped to test you this morning.” He growled, but tossed the metal bowl at her feet. A small sausage, a few mushrooms and a piece of toast. A luxury feast, compared to the lack of the past day. “Eat then. On your hands and knees, like the beast you are.”

  Celeste swallowed her own growl as she broke position. No, giving into her anger would only result in her meal being taken away. Not something she was willing to risk. Slowly she lowered her head down to the bowl and began to eat in small, almost delicate bites. Like a cat. He had made that clear enough in the early weeks. Eat with the tiny, sensual bites of a playful cat. Not that she thought felines were in any way shape or form sensual but he appeared to.

  Never before had sausage tasted so good. Pork and sage, country links, the sort she had been blessed to enjoy in her previous life when the extra money had been there. The bread must have been baked that morning, and the butter, fresh churned the day before? Not that it mattered too much. She was hungry and that added more to the way things tasted.

  “Eat quickly, you have no time
to linger on your meal this day my pet. My guests will arrive before the noon hour and we have much to do.” He reached down, running his fingers through her hair as Celeste hurried to eat the small portion of food he had granted her.

  His guests. What could be so important about these strangers that would mean even Davien would hurry to prepare for their arrival? She had never even seen him close to flustered yet now there was an air of concern, a slight shift in his concentration. Did he owe them money? Or perhaps they held some power of him?

  For a moment, the hope rose that she might be able to persuade one of them to help her escape. No, a foolish thought. If there had been even the remotest chance of that then Davien would lock her out of sight.

  “You're curious?” He spoke quietly, his fingers tightening in her hair for a brief moment before he returned to brushing them softly through the soft lengths. How did he know what she was thinking? Or how to say the right, or rather wrong things, to dash her growing hopes? “Understandable, you've not had the pleasure of visitors yet. You've thought about what brings them here, if they could be used against me, and more than that, if you have a chance of escape. Believe me little slut, you will be watched closely during this visit. Even in the hunt. Though you will run for us, be the prey, the prize there is one thing you need to understand. You have no hope of escape.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  No hope of escape. How many times had he told her that in the weeks since he had stolen her from the life and home she had known?

  Enough now that it played almost constantly in the back of her mind.

  It wouldn't stop her from trying when the moment was right. All it would take was a few minutes without someone watching her. She knew the manor house he called home very well indeed now. The stables, the back route to them. It would be a risk, a big one, but she could steal clothing from one of the servants and be gone in the confusion before anyone else had the chance to stop her. It could work, would work, all she had to do was pick the right moment.

  Patience.

  She knew how important that aspect was, until that time she would play the little slave for him. Count the days, watch for the openings and taken them when all the cards finally fell into place.

  “In time you'll accept that, not tomorrow, or even a month from now, you're a stubborn one, my girl. And I'm no fool.” His smile offered no comfort, not that she expected him to offer her such a thing. “Until then and even beyond, I'll be watching you.”

  He was many things, a bastard, thief, sodomizer and worse, but a fool he most certainly was not. That she had learned all too well. Intelligence mingled with sheer cruelty made him into a dangerous man. “I believe that of you, Master. You would not let up your watch on me without good reason, if at all.” She murmured, refraining from looking up from the last of her food. Gods it tasted good, it no longer even seemed to matter that she was forced to eat it from a bowl in such a manner.

  “Of course you now do, slut.” He chuckled, shaking his head. The laughter mocked her very existence. Images of standing up, grabbing a poker and swinging it at his head eased some of her growing anger towards her Master. Not enough to wipe out the emotions completely but the thought of his brain matter and blood splattered all over the desk was a very pleasant one. Improbable but amusing nevertheless. “Or at least you have learned what to say, how to phrase your words in a manner that will bring you the least amount of pain.”

  “It is better to work that way, Master. You have taught me that much.” And so much more than she had ever imagined possible. Lessons Celeste would have given her soul to forget if she had but a chance. Like the ones that had taught her how to respond, to some level, to his touches. Her body answering a sexual call she still silently swore that she wanted nothing to do with. So why did her inner walls tightened at the memory of his touch? Just one of the ways her mind tricked her body and allowed both to survive this nightmare intact? “I will do my best to learn the lessons you offer me without appearing to be ungrateful for the time you spend in teaching me.”

  “Indeed you will little pet, or suffer the consequences.” He leaned back up, kicking the bowl and the remains of the bread away from her lips. Damn him, would it have been so hard to let her finish her meal just once? “Now, you will crawl to the kitchens. There you will be washed down by the cook, scrubbed from head to foot.”

  “The kitchens, Master? I can see to myself in that regard.” The words tumbled from her lips, carried by frustration as her gaze still lingered on the remaining bread in the bowl.

  “Did I give you an option? Did I ask you for your opinion?” His voice turned into sharp cuts of ice claimed steel. “I was sure I had not crossed that line.”

  “No, Master.” Fear grasped her heart. Had she stepped too far? Damn her anger. She had to find a way to keep her emotions under control, a way that would prevent him from using them, from pushing the triggers that tripped her head first into mistakes like that one. Gods, she did not want another beating so soon. Less so with the visitors that would be arriving this very day. What would they think of her if they saw the marks of her beating? If they saw how he treated her?

  He wouldn't do that to her, would he?

  Of course he would. That fell into how he treated people, how he treated her at every given opportunity. It was a part of her training, she knew that.

  Dear Lord, what message would it send to them? That there was a free reign to treat her in any manner they saw fit? She could not allow that to happen, yet what choice did she have?

  “Then by what foolishness did you think you had the right to offer suggestions when I gave you no room to do such a thing?” He growled, looking down at her trembling form.

  “I wasn't thinking straight, Master. Please forgive me, I meant not harm and spoke without thought.” She whimpered, moving to her stomach on the floor, pressing her lips to his boot. Celeste begged softly for his mercy. Such a thing was a slim commodity at the best of times that she knew all too well.

  “Forgive you, why should I do that?” The growl didn't leave his voice. “You stepped over the lines my pet. You acted as though you still had rights. No, more than that, you expected to be treated as a human being, a lady, not the slave that you now are.”

  “I erred Master, excitement at the thought of visitors perhaps. It will not happen again.” She whispered, her nails catching in the carpet beneath her body. Would he believe her? The odds were not in her favor yet still she tried. “Please, have mercy on your property. I beg it of you. I erred and I know it.”

  “No.”

  She flinched at the word.

  “You will not be forgiven, but neither shall you be beaten. I would prefer your skin unmarked for this event. Oh you might end up with a few small reminders in obedience whilst there, but nothing that will impede my plans for the coming days. Instead you will crawl to the kitchen as I have ordered you. Then you will serve the cook and anyone else in the kitchen who so wishes to use your sweet body, only then you will enjoy your bath at the hands of the cook.”

  Her stomach knotted and threatened to rebel at his words. Serve the men and women in the kitchen. Oh gods. How many were there? Three or four? If this had been a normal day then yes, but with the guests due to arrive Davien might have called in the part timers. He had threatened her with the touch of women before though had not carried it out. Until now. Would she be able to bear the shame? She had to if she wanted to live and the desire to enjoy life, to find a way to beat the odds, still beat strongly through her veins.

  It did not make sense though, why would he send her to learn such a vile thing without watching her?

  To teach you that you lack importance to him. You're nothing but a source of amusement when he has the time. Not before.

  “Now crawl, slut.” His foot lashed out, catching her in the side. Hard enough to knock the wind from her trembling body. With a low cry of pain Celeste pushed back onto her hands and knees and edged back from his feet. No mercy, why had she ever expected or ho
ped for a change in how he would treat her.

  Tears stung her eyes as she hurried back from his feet, then turned to crawl out into the hallway. The warmth of the study soon became the cool touch of the hallway. At least there were only three steps down into the kitchen. Better than the stairway she had crawled down only a short time before.

  She hesitated for a moment. They would not know the orders she had been given, and if she did not tell them...

  No, foolish to hide it. He would find out and then double her punishment. Perhaps going as far as to send her out to the stables to serve the men there. All of the men, or putting her chained out for general use in the courtyard for whomever passed by. That sounded like the sort of thing he would do. Better to try and serve the women, they at least might be gentler with her. Men carried a risk of their own, pregnancy. Though he had forced some bitter brew down her lips once a week to help stop that, a gift put together by a local herb woman from what she understood of such things.

  She shivered at the thought, the degradation the men might put her through if she tried to play the game of deception. No. She would not, could not permit that. Better to admit the truth and face the consequences.

  Strange, no matter how much her mind protested the idea, her body surged into life at the thought of being put out at the stables. The touches of those unknown men, their hands, cocks, the grips that would hold her in place as they took what they wanted from her body. Passion throbbed in her nipples, tightening the small buds into life. Invisible fingers brushed down her back, tracing lines of delight over her taut ass, between her thighs. Gods, what had she become?

  A slut, a whore for his amusement, a piece of property to obey his every whim no matter how base or degrading it made her feel, until the day she finally broke free.

  In silence, she crawled down the stone floored hallway before edging her way down the few steps and through the heavy door that led into the kitchen. Warmth, the smell of baking bread, pork roasting over the open fire, herbs and wine mingled with the smoke.

 

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