Bred for Riches: Billionaire's Breeding Dungeon

by Arthur Mitchell

  His eager hands reinforced the old relationship between them. Every circle and pinch along her wet folds reminded her that she was his property – nothing but a fragile decoration to do with as he liked.

  Hiding the tears is so easy pressed into his suit, suffocating on these lustful screams. Rebecca's thoughts were coming quick, broken each time he spread her open, exploring her in deeper strokes. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. All I owe him is my body, and he's obliged to fill my flesh and my bank account.

  Nothing more.

  As the limousine pulled up the long drive, he reluctantly pulled away from her. His tie came off again and doubled as a blindfold.

  Aaron saw the wetness circling her eyes, but he didn't care. He had done what he could to soothe her heartache – much more than he had done for her slightly less beautiful predecessors. All that mattered now was that his needs were seen to.

  Obligations Fulfilled

  Rebecca squirmed, her nerves frazzled as he coiled the chains tightly around her arms and legs. She was no stranger to bondage, but she had never had it with someone so demanding, so truly capable of undoing everything she had.

  The billionaire could disappear her tomorrow, and no one would ever know. Or, he might choose to leave her bound permanently, making her beg for release. The animal smile smeared across his face gave no hint about what was to come.

  “Finally, you look like a proper slave. Now, we just have to see that you're treated like one,” he whispered. Aaron had slipped out of his jacket as he straddled over her prone body, taking time to fix the chains to the little posts surrounding them.

  He had laid her out in a circle near the dungeon's corner. The posts were automatically planted in the ground, waiting to hold her in place.

  Coldness circled her most sensitive parts, but it couldn't stifle the heat rearing up inside her. Rebecca clenched her teeth and moaned as he tore her clothes away.

  Minutes later, she was fully in place. The sound of clacking irons surrounded her as she lay beneath his immense muscles.

  He hadn't taken off her blindfold. The black tie remained wrapped around her head, a comforting darkness that wafted his spicy cologne toward her nostrils.

  The scented shadow made her feel like she was buried alive, but in his all consuming presence, rather than the cold ground. Rebecca should've been frightened, but she wasn't. It felt natural, more right than anything.

  “Go ahead, Master. Do whatever it is you need to do to me.” Her lips trembled as she spoke, but her words were sincere.

  He was the unlikeliest man in the world to take an interest in her. Yet, by some mad fate, he had. The money wasn't on her mind, but their time together at the cafe hung heavy in her thoughts.

  She smiled, wondering if this were some pre-planned scheme all along. His clothes rustled as he pulled them off, lowering his fingers and mouth to her soft flesh.

  “I'll do it, Rebecca. What I need from you now is something I've thought about for a long

  time...something I need if my family's fortune is going to survive Hamilton's attack.” His palms covered her enormous breasts and he squeezed.

  “You can't even imagine it. This is a long war, and one I intend to win. The Westfields always come out on top, but only if there are Westfields left to fight. I need you as more than just a slave for pleasure. I need your womb.”

  There. He said it, Rebecca thought, feeling her heartbeat jump several notches, as if it were an instrument placed into a furious musician's hands. Why don't I feel sick to my stomach, being used this way?

  The question answered itself as she spread her ankles as widely as she could in the chains. Her hips lifted automatically, rising toward his hard fingers. He rubbed her slit, coating himself with her musky wetness.

  Aaron watched in amazement as she shifted her thighs open, her brow furrowed above the tie. She wasn't afraid at all. The fearless way she submitted to her breeding made him want her even more.

  Naked, he crawled toward her, pressing his hard shaft in between her lips. He began to grind his hips from side to side, teasing her with his sensitive flesh.

  When she began to whimper, his hands returned. Rebecca's nipples bloomed in the spaces between his fingers like pink rose tips, naturally drawn toward his hungry mouth.

  His shaft ground itself faster as her hips arched up and down. Nipples pulsed in his mouth, until she thought he would suck her in, piece by piece, devouring her forever. Nothing prepared her for where his mouth went next.

  Aaron's lips landed squarely on hers in a long, wet kiss. He probed her. Tongues coiled together like two sinful serpents, enacting a dance that only increased the magnetism, drawing his sex into hers.

  A hoarse moan filled his mouth, bulging up her throat as he snaked into her. Aaron moved his face away and returned to her breasts, sucking and teasing her nipples with his teeth – a wicked distraction almost more pleasurable than the invasion curving up toward her womb.

  His hips tilted back before shoving forward again. In seconds, she recognized his pace and matched it, forcing her clit against his hard shaft. Rebecca's small ass bounced, audibly slapping the floor with her feverish desire to take him deeper.

  “Ohhh! Oh...Master. Master. Master. ” The third time was the charm.

  The sudden meaning of his title filled her tingling head at once. He truly owned her now, carving his impression on her skin as well as her psyche. His smell, his touch, his taste – it was everywhere.

  Lightning arched up her nerves as she sensed him plowing deeper. Her flesh automatically opened for her new keeper, a man who remained mysterious, but no longer a stranger.

  She struggled against the chains. The impulse to wrap her legs around him became irresistible.

  Their ears filled with the din of lust charged groans and metal scraping concrete. The mixed sounds resembled the ocean's roar, an ageless symphony offered to Nature, who had drawn them together.

  One minute was all it took. Rebecca couldn't resist anymore, screaming against his shoulder as he ground lower. His hips smashed against hers, more fervently each time, drawn by the incredible humidity within her.

  His sharp erection sensed the heat. He was melting in her velvet, slowly giving away his control inch by quivering inch, until giving her his offering was all that mattered.

  Aaron wondered who was truly the slave as his balls churned. She was still trying to shove her hips up in the air, pushing her slit over his hardness. But his pressure didn't allow that – not when he held her down with his deep thrusts, spiking her womb and pressing her to the floor with his heat.

  “Get ready. I'm going to do it, I'm going to come in you, Rebecca, filling you with the magic I've always wanted to –“ Aaron's speech drew rapid and stopped.

  A masculine growl ripped from his throat as he forced his way into her one last time. His tip brushed her cervix, pulling her depths open. Her narrow canal sensed the changes, and his swelling hardness sent fire through her belly.

  Mystic fire from within encircled her brain. The spasms arced along her thighs, growing tighter as they reached her folds. Somewhere in the center, she felt his explosion.

  Aaron didn't pull out of her this time. On the contrary, he rooted himself deep as his balls started to pump.

  The thick tendril he planted in her wet earth oozed its thick sap, coating her insides with seed. Millions of his sperm jetted into her, angrily looking for a way to use her body to grow.

  Rebecca imagined he had planted a burning piece of coal into her middle. The heat threatened to scorch through her, and the intense burn only catalyzed her pleasure to new levels.

  Their bodies shook and came together. Aaron and Rebecca lost themselves in ecstasy, making a great labyrinth with their sweaty, spasming bodies. In their entanglement, it was easy to disappear into the tropical white light shining through their brains.

  The pleasure stopped everything – hearts, minutes, and all the forces outside them. This was more than just a standard orgasm, and
the hazy realization in her mind caused her toes to keep curling with delight long after they should have stopped.

  He's planting his DNA in me, taking total ownership...and I'm okay with that. For the first time, he's becoming my Master in more than just a name.

  Please let his seed find a place in my warm belly. I won't ever be alone again – not even when he's gone. There will always be part of him left behind, one I will worship until the end of days.

  Her thoughts were disrupted by hands encroaching toward the back of her head. Aaron reached around and started to take away the blindfold, never drawing himself out of her slit.

  His hardness had only softened slightly, but it was more than large enough to seal her womb. He intended to gently shove his seed into her deep, working it in with broad ellipses, until they moaned intermittently with tame satisfaction.

  Rebecca looked up at him. His eyes looked as though they had been watering while she was blind.

  She couldn't blame him if the wet shadows around his eyes reflected tears. The moment's grace absolutely enveloped her, and him as well. She felt his appreciation for breeding, though its mysteries remained impenetrable.

  “Did we really do it, Master?”

  “Perhaps, but we're not done this evening...not by far. Forcing a baby to sprout from your womb is hard work, Rebecca. Come, while your loins are still hot and the pleasure is calling,” he said, beginning to thrust his hips back and forth. “Come with me again.”

  She moaned as he sank back inside her. The slippery coating left by her wetness and his seed added new delicious textures, sending energy spiking through her nerves.

  It wasn't long until she was on a full flight to orgasm again. Somewhere, in the sticky hot ecstasy circling her body, Rebecca's heartbeat drummed loudly. The heavy thud was fueled by more than base lust, echoing with emotions she dared not recognize – at least not then.

  Three levels above the basement, Bruno Bower was smiling. The bald headed man was smoking in a maintenance closet, pressing the mobile phone to his ear.

  Through it came the sounds of two people in desperate heat, screaming as their bodies found rapture.

  Bruno's bald head glowed in the light and his grin broadened.

  “Excellent. I'm going to make a lot of money with this.” The listening device he had planted in his employer's basement was working perfectly.

  With a little luck, he would be able to pick up any conversation that took place in the room, not to mention sounds from less cerebral activities. He flicked his phone to record and shoved it away from his ear.

  He was near the end of his shift, and the estate's maintenance supervisor wouldn't notice if he wandered out a little early. He lifted a small leather briefcase up as he rose and exited through a wooden door leading to the employee garages.

  Inside, the high quality photographs he had developed were waiting for delivery, along with the first installment of the recording he had taken from Westfield's private basement. The images showed Aaron Westfield in Cafe 452, close to a young woman who called him Master – too close to be mere business associates. Within half an hour, he arrived at a pub just starting its happy hour.

  A middle aged Asian man sat down next to Bruno. Right on time, he thought, tapping his foot against the stool's golden rail as he took several long sips from his ale. He waited until the man looked at him.

  “It's all here, ready for your taking just as soon as you slide the check over.” Bruno drew his foot away from the stool, giving the man clearance to take the briefcase underneath.

  He reached down and grabbed it. The lock clicked open and he rifled through the contents for a couple minutes. Satisfied, the Asian man nodded his head and pulled a slim rectangular paper from inside his jacket.

  Bruno took it from the counter and looked down. His brow furrowed with torrid confusion.

  “Where's the rest of it? This is only a little over half?” His eyes flickered with rage. The amount on the check was nothing to cry about, but he had been promised more.

  “Mister Hamilton only pays for service in full. This is the first installment. You'll get the rest – and perhaps more – just as soon as you give us something interesting enough to take public.” The Asian straightened his jacket and started to head toward the door with the briefcase.

  After stewing for several seconds, Bruno leaped from his chair and followed. “Hey, you're telling me that what I just gave you wasn't juicy enough?”

  “No, Mister Bower. My employer wants something that can shame the name of Westfield forever.

  Having a rough fling with a sorority girl just isn't enough, no matter how many nasty little games and tools are involved.” He smiled, donning a mask that chilled Bruno. “Now, if there's something else to this relationship we should know about...well, you're the one to find out for us, aren't you?”

  Bruno nodded dumbly. By the time he opened his mouth to speak again, the man was gone, leaving nothing but his ale to return to.

  Thanks for Buying This eBook!

  I hope that the fantasies presented here have given you thrills and chills. If you enjoyed what you read in Bred for Riches, please consider checking out my other books and leaving a review. Your support ensures that I'll continue delivering pleasurable tales for years to come.

  Don't miss the next installment in the His to Breed series, coming soon.

  In the meantime, I invite you to follow my new releases and sex charged musings at:

  http://arthurmitchellerotica.blogspot.com/

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  Thanks again!

  Arthur Mitchell

  If You Liked This...

  Then you may enjoy another tale of billionaire riches and breeding by contract, Taken for Breeding:

  Bred in Gold Chains.

  About This Work

  SEDUCED BY HIS WEALTH. BOUND BY HIS SECRETS.

  Maximillian Sorbeg is the name of desperation. Or, at least, it is when Tasha first hears it. The out of luck model's career disintegrated after a twisted ankle on the runway, and her money is thinning fast.

  Luckily, a friend lends her a way out with unique contacts that have nothing to do with the fashion industry. One phone call later leads Tasha into a high risk submission contract offering more wealth than she can imagine. Meeting with Maximillian means entering a powerful world of dominant wealth, where nothing is predictable.

  Tasha thinks she can meet the reclusive billionaire's stern demands. However, the gulf between them extends to his tastes, including desires that the young woman dare not imagine...or refuse.

  This story magnifies obsession, submission, and passionate impregnation to billionaire heights. An erotic romance novelette of over 9,500 words.

  Excerpt

  “What's your name?” He asked, straightening his lapels.

  “Tasha, sir.”

  “I'm pleased that you know how to address me. That's an encouraging sign, but far from the only one I need. I've been fooled before by sluts who thought they were cunning,” he spat the word out, his face flashing with anger. “Let me make sure the product fits its packaging.”

  His hands shot to the straps of her long black dress, roughly tugging them aside. There was nothing gentle or loving about his grip as he unwrapped her.

  A product, just like he said, she thought. Her mind wanted to hide from its exposed position, but Maximillian dragged her back as he started to tear at the bra strap clinging to her back.

  “Very good so far. Turn around,” he ordered, yanking off the strap as he did. Her round breasts fell forward and her arms instinctively moved to cover them.

  He ran his hot hand over her naked back. She was down to nothing but the lacy black panties she had chosen for their first meeting, the most expensive pair in her wardrobe.

  “What's this? Trying to impress me?” Tasha heard the sardonic amusement in his voice, a faint warning she failed to recognize before he grabbed the waistband to her panties.

  The billionaire bar
ed his teeth as he yanked them roughly away, tearing until he heard the fabric snap.

  Tasha squealed and turned around in alarm, her face wrinkled in horror. She was just in time to see him bring the shredded cloth to his nose.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as though he were sampling a fine spice. “This cheap material doesn't impress me. The smell and feel of it, however...”

  He grabbed her arms, forcing them apart. Tasha's breasts bobbed before him, but he wasn't aiming for those. He wanted to keep her hands away from covering herself as he reached lower, aiming for the wetness between her legs.

  She shuddered as he found her slit, roughly parting the folds and sliding two of his rock hard fingers in.

  He stared her in the face as he moved up and down, testing her tight, slick cavern. His face lit up with a long smile.

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