Captured by the Count: An Abduction and Breeding Fantasy

by Carolyn Faulkner

  And he was right. When she was finally off the table and on her feet, the guards approached her before she could gain her balance and lifted her off her feet with an arm under each of her shoulders, carrying her down a maze of corridors as the rooms off them got smaller and smaller. She was placed in the smallest of them all. It was barely big enough for the crude cot that she was deposited on, and there was only one other piece of furniture in the windowless room, a small, nondescript chair. Through the walls she could hear the misery of many other women, although it sounded as if their mournful weeping was being muffled, somehow.

  The guards closed the door behind them but she had no illusions that they had left. She knew they were right outside. Lidiya moved Cassie to stand in front of the chair while Matushka lifted up the seat to reveal a big whole, under which a bowl had strategically been placed.

  “Use it quickly, girl, and if you don’t you’ll soon wish you had.”

  Cassie needed to go, there was no doubt about that, but to do so in front of two strangers? She wasn’t at all sure she could do it, but her body overruled her mind entirely, and she blushed a scarlet red as she did as she was bid.

  Lidiya left with the bowl but returned quickly as Matushka ushered Cassie to the bed, sitting her down with a rough push on her shoulders, then spreading her limbs out again – like they had been in the examination room – so that she was spread and bound at wrist and ankle.

  And then they left. Somehow being alone in this condition was much worse than even being with her tormentors, despite what they did to her. She had – against her own mental decrees – begged for them not to leave her, but they walked out the door as if they couldn’t hear a thing she was saying.

  She was by herself for a very long time as the day descended into pitch black darkness. Even in the country, where she had lived, there some lamps or candles remained lit in the house, and there was always the familiar sounds of slaves stirring or singing or cattle lowing. But here it was completely and utterly silent; she couldn’t even hear the lamentations of the other women any more. They must’ve drifted off to sleep, but she wasn’t anywhere near that lucky.

  And she became even unluckier when, in the middle of the night when she was still wide awake, she heard someone open the door of her room. It was a dark figure with no face who walked slowly towards her, and Cassie became so frightened that although she opened her mouth wide, she couldn’t even scream. She had no idea what this entity was going to do to her, but she couldn’t imagine that it would be good.

  And then she saw it bend a bit, and felt probing fingers land on the spot that everyone here seemed most concerned with – right between her legs, which she was powerless to close. Although she tugged mightily at her bonds, she didn’t succeed in closing her legs even the slightest bit, nor freeing her hands.

  She found herself touched in very much the same manner as the Count had before he’d left her; they’d both unerringly found her most vulnerable point and proceeded to take advantage of it. Whoever it was that was molesting her had already lubricated his fingers with something, so that they glided in the most frighteningly delicious manor over the ever burgeoning scrap of flesh beneath them, only this time there was no respite from the molestation in the least. Those big fingers just continued to swirl around and up and over the top of her, then parting to go down around each side, then back up over the top in a never ending rhythm that had her much more upset than having the paddle taken to her had made her. She didn’t want to feel such things in the middle of a horrible situation like this, and she couldn’t understand why her body was all of a sudden so blasted hard to control!

  This felt good. But she knew it was bad and shameful and a sin. Her mother had told her about that when she had had her first woman’s time, and had told her that she would roast in the fiery pit of Hell if anyone or anything besides her bloomers had any contact with that area of her body except for necessary cleaning.

  Cassie had been pretty much wholly unaware of its power, which was right now being demonstrated to her in the most dramatic of ways. She had always thought she had pretty much full command of her life – despite her gruff father’s occasional attempts at reigning her in - over pretty much anything that happened to her, but she was learning quickly that that was no longer true in so many ways. Apparently, with the right touch, her body could be forced into betraying her entirely. She realized abruptly that she wasn’t panting because she was afraid any more. She was panting because of what was being done to her, how that delicate spot was being manipulated, and the delicious feelings that those strange fingers were causing. She had absolutely no ability to deny her own responses which brought her sense of shame to a fever pitch, right along with the rest of her.

  She was entirely unprepared for what happened next. The apparition leaned down and suckled – only briefly – at each of her distended nipples, like an infant drawing out his mother’s milk, and the bolt of pleasure that that cause to run rampant through her body had her trying unsuccessfully to arch off the bed, which only presented that eager mouth the opportunity to conquer even more of her delicate flesh.

  And then, seconds later, he and his magic fingers were gone as quietly as they had come, and she was left, ignorant and aching and crying, alone again in the darkness.

  Cassie did finally fall asleep near dawn, but it felt like mere minutes later when the Count appeared, hovering above her bed, much as the apparition in the middle of the night had.

  “Time to get up. You have things to do.”

  The same two women were there, behind him, and they put her through much the same routine – minus the horrific examination – but they scrubbed her yet again, using a wonderfully fragrant soap and adding some lavender oil to her bath which left her skin – what there was of it after they’d cleaned her to their specifications.

  Every inch of her was again lotioned with the expensive smelling cream, then her hair was washed, dried and brushed till it shown as it never had before.

  She was then given a light breakfast of bread and milk, which Matushka spent her time chiding her for eating too quickly, but she was hungry. And Cassie intended to do whatever she could to keep her strength up. She did her best to try to spot a possible opportunity for escape, but there were none.

  After breakfast her hands were washed and she was carried by the ever present guards to another area of the building that seemed a lot different than the one from which she had come. Here the rooms were much larger – at least the doors were much further apart – and there was a large common room at the center. There were three men lounging there with drinks already this morning who perked up as soon as Cassie came into sight, but she was – thankfully – just paraded past them. None of them was allowed to touch her, although the whistles and catcalls were bad enough.

  There were no corridors at the other end of the lounge area, just one door which they went through. It lead to a room that was among the most finely appointed that Cassie had ever seen – its furnishings were much better than anything in existence at Two Rivers. There was even a small dining area complete with a gilt table and chairs, and expensive artwork hung from every wall. There were windows – albeit small ones – in this room that were hung with heavy tapestried drapes of what she would have bet were of the finest silk damask available.

  But she was carried through all of that to another door that had a sign on it in a language she didn’t recognize. Cassie was put down on her own two feet finally, and was immediately much too concerned with what was being done to her than any old sign or furniture.

  In unison, as if it was a long practiced routine, the two women bound her wrists in front of her while the Count forced a blindfold over her eyes, tying it tightly behind her. And before she could register a protest, which she intended to do loud and clear, she found a silk scarf stuffed into her mouth so that she nearly choked on it, then another over it, tied very tightly behind her head, so that she had no choice but to keep it in.

  She cou
ld hear someone turn the doorknob and one of the guards – who she recognized by his sheer bulk - lifted her off the ground again, carrying her in to a room whose purpose she didn’t recognize until she was laid down on an extremely comfortable mattress – unlike the one she’d spent the night on last night.

  Before she could roll off it, someone brought her already bound hands up over her head to slip them into some sort of hook or something so that she couldn’t then get them back from.

  The Count crouched by the bedside, saying, as he pulled the sheet all the way up and over her head, “The man in the bed next to you is Jurek. He’s still asleep, and might remain so for a while, if you’re quiet. You should obey him as you forced Sissy to obey you – I can assure you the consequences of not doing so will be only somewhat the same.”

  Then she was alone again, in the dark but this time for a different reason, unable and unwilling to make a sound, hoping against hope that whoever it was that they had put her next to on the bed could be reasoned with, perhaps even persuaded to help her get away from this nightmare of a place.

  She didn’t know how long it took for him to wake – but it was not at all long enough as far as she was concerned. She began to hear him stretching slowly at first, turning over and getting another few minutes of sleep before he moved again, and an arm was flung over her midsection, causing her to emit a very unladylike “ooof” at its sheer mass, which only served as a wakeup call to the man beside her.

  “What have we here?” His deep bass voice rumbled its way into her ears and her mind. “Someone has left me a present.”

  She could feel him tugging at the sheet, and as soon as it had made its way down to her shoulders, she felt him sit bolt upright. Then she heard the sound of a lamp being lit as he proceeded to remove the rest of the sheet, exposing every inch of her to his avid gaze.

  “Oh my God you are real! He found you!” He had visited her last night, but had been so drunk at the time that he barely remembered it as anything more than a dream.

  Cassie tried to talk to him, to explain that she was kidnapped and brought here against her will, that her father would make him a very rich man if he returned her to him unharmed, but it was all but useless with the gag in her mouth.

  She was pleasantly surprised, though, when he relieved her of it, saying,“I know how these things can make it hard to breath.”

  Cassie repeated exactly what she had just said as quickly as she could, since this man was already using his enormous but surprisingly soft hands to claim every bit of her – not just the embarrassing parts, but everything else too. She felt like a prize mare he was inspecting at an auction. But he was so absorbed in touching her apparently that she didn’t think he’d heard a word she’d said, until she began to repeat herself as he climbed on top of her, ruthlessly using his superior strength to part the legs that she had instinctively crossed against him, forcing them almost uncomfortably wide apart just by his sheer bulk as he settled his hips against hers, causing something hard and unyielding to poke rudely at Cassie’s privates.

  “No, no, you don’t understand, my father will give you anything you want – anything – if you bring me back home. He’ll make you very, very rich!” she pleaded.

  Jurek laughed loudly. “I’m already very, very rich, my dear. There is nothing your father could give me that I don’t already have – except my cock in your pussy, and I am going to satisfy that urge in just a second. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t walk straight for a week, which is fine, because I’m probably not going to let you out of this bed for at least that long.”

  Chapter Four

  Although she wasn’t even sure exactly what “fuck” meant, the way he said it didn’t make it sound like it would be a very pleasant pursuit, so Cassie drew in the deepest breath she could and screamed her bloody head off, not caring in the least if everyone in the place came bursting into the room because she had done so. At this point she didn’t care if everyone in the world saw her in this sordid position, as long as someone helped her get out of it.

  But she issued at least five blood curdling screams, and yet there was no such rescue in the offing. No one even knocked on the door to ask what if everything was all right. If a woman had screamed like that anywhere in the South, she was quite sure that all sorts of men would have run to their aid.

  Unless it was a slave who had issued such a cry. In which case, Cassie knew better than some, that she would just as likely have been cuffed across the face and told to shut up or else, regardless of the circumstances in which she found herself.

  And the Count had told her that in this place she would be judged to be no better than a slave.

  Still, she couldn’t believe that no one – not even one of the men she had been dragged past not long ago – was going to lift a finger to prevent the sullying of her name and person.

  “Are you quite through trying to make us both deaf?”

  Cassie ignored him and drew another breath, but this time she screamed the word “Help!” as loudly as she could – but cut it off as soon as she felt him boldly reach out to cup her breast. She tried to wiggle away from his touch, but there was nowhere to go. She had even less mobility with the considerable weight of him parked right on top of her.

  “You can stop that any time now,” he informed her with annoying calm. “No one’s going to help you.”

  She couldn’t help the tears that overflowed her eyes from behind the blindfold. “What kind of place is this? Are there no gentlemen here?”

  Cassie had no idea what she’d said that amused him, but she heard him laugh heartily in response to her question. “This room is soundproof, Cassie. They couldn’t hear you no matter how hard you screamed – not that they would have helped you even if they had heard you. More than likely they would be just outside the door, their cocks in their hands, eager for every droplet of your audible anguish that they could get.” He was surprised at her shocked, disbelieving look. “Do you truly not know where you are?”

  “I don’t. No one has told me anything. I’ve been poked and prodded and most rudely abused, but no one has told me why I was kidnapped and brought here. If not for money, then why?”

  In answer, Jurek reached behind her head and removed the blindfold. It took a long moment for Cassie’s eyes to adjust, but then she looked up at him and realized that he had exactly the same coloring as she did. He was wearing a mane of hair that was not as long as hers, but down to his shoulders at least. It was waving and curling on its own, and it was the same shocking shade of white blonde as hers.

  And he was at least the size of one of the big oafs who had brought her here, if not bigger, which was why she felt as if he was crushing her by lying on top of her. He was.

  “We have been looking for you for ages, ma cherie. You are my match. The only one we have ever found. We will make beautiful babies together.”

  Make babies? She couldn’t possibly do that – they weren’t married!

  She said as much to Jurek, quite haughtily, which only had him laughing at least as uproariously as he had a few seconds ago. “You do not have to be married to be pregnant, Cassie.”

  “Of course you do! One cannot have a baby without a husband.” She ignored the fact that he had used her Christian name in the pursuit of getting him to admit that she was in the right.

  “No,” he corrected, placing his finger over her lips, “a woman cannot become pregnant without a man, but he doesn’t have to be her husband.”

  She had never heard of such a thing – at least not as pertained to a white woman, anyway. “That can’t be so.”

  “I shall enjoy spending the next few weeks or so proving you very wrong.” He leaned down and covered her mouth with his while hers was still open as she searched for something to say to refute his contention.

  He kissed her boldly, unapologetically. There was no trace of the quick pecks that the occasional overeager young man had stolen from her in the various gardens she had been in in Europe, or e
ven at the balls her neighbors had thrown, although American – southern American men – were much less forward than Europeans, she had found. He claimed her mouth, his tongue bolding plunging past her lips and teeth to try to encourage her to fence with her own, his head tilting so that he had a better angle that allowed him to plunder even more of her.

  Cassie was lost for a moment in the flood of sensations that crested through her body, sweeping away her inhibitions momentarily so that she nearly dueled back at him with her own bold tongue until she came to her senses and, instead, brought her teeth down, hard, on that soft invader.

  He reared back and she knew that she had struck her target, although she didn’t taste blood so she knew that she hadn’t bitten anywhere near hard enough to deter him.

  But she hadn’t thought about what his retaliation might be for such an offense. She was only trying to get him to get off her.

  Jurek, however, had a lot of experience in dealing with reluctant mates. And Victor, last night, had come to him to chat about how his luck had been in France. He had told him that he had had a modicum of success, and that he could expect a lovely present very shortly, but Jurek hadn’t thought it would be this quick. “No doubt she thinks babies are brought by the stork. She’s been totally sheltered; she’s completely innocent, my friend. I know that for a fact myself.”

  Jurek knew exactly what that meant. Victor hadn’t been able to resist sampling his dessert, although he was smart enough not to go too far, using the excuse of wanting to be certain that this girl was clean.

  “And I have a feeling that, to a certain extent, and certainly unknown to her, she might well enjoy the rougher side of you, although perhaps not at first. I trust your judgment completely in this situation, of course. I don’t not have your prowess.” What Victor meant was that he did not possess potent seed, but of course he would never put it that way. “Regardless, you should not go easy on her. She had a slave with her, and I have a feeling that it might do her good to get a taste of the other side, if you know what I mean.”