by Vonna Harper
Finally, compelled by his growing sexual heat, he let go of the ring. He immediately cupped her breast, closing his fingers around the swollen flesh and making it his. Only her hard, dark nipple with the ring through it remained exposed. Leaning down and bending his knees, he managed to close his lips around her nipple. Sucked.
A whimper slid out of her. Fascinated by the reluctant sound, he drew her deeper into his mouth. Lifting herself once more onto her toes, she arched her back. He ran his tongue over her nipple, then pushed against it while still sucking her into him. When his jaw muscles started to protest, he let her slide out. Instantly hungry for the taste and feel of her, he started to open his mouth again.
Something else occurred to him, and he caught her breast in both hands, squeezing until trapped blood made her nipple swell. Holding on with more strength than necessary, he suckled while she twisted in his grip.
“Nurse that bitch!” Cliff exclaimed. “Don’t let go.”
He could have told Cliff the slave wasn’t trying to get away. Instead, he nibbled and lapped. Her whimper grew in intensity. She wasn’t fighting him but herself. Her growing need.
Pummeled by his own need, he straightened. His back threatened to cramp, and her breast slipped out of his mouth, but she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Got to you, did I?” He planted his face as close to hers as the difference between their height allowed. “Made you feel things you don’t want to?”
“No, Master. Yes Master. Oh please, what do you want?”
“Your pussy!”
“It isn’t her pussy,” Thomas corrected. “Every inch of her belongs to me, and to you tonight.”
Yes! Damn yes!
He pushed her back, then laughed as she again struggled to keep her feet under her. When he was sure she wasn’t going to fall, he unbuttoned and unzipped. A harsh downward jerk had his slacks and briefs down around his buttocks with his dark, swollen cock stabbing at her.
“There!” He indicated the chair he’d been in earlier. “Lean over the arm rest with your ass where I can use it.”
She’d gone back to studying the carpet, but he had no difficulty reading her emotions in the way she shuffled over to where he’d directed. She knew what was going to happen, wanted and hated it at the same time.
Folding her body over the arm rest with her arms wrenched behind her took every bit of coordination she had. At length her cheek rested against the seat with her head turned to the side so she could see the room—and him. Her ass had become the highest part of her body, prominent and inviting. No way could she straighten without help.
Bay took his sweet time moving out of her sight. Determined not to let her anticipate his next move, he silently positioned himself so his cock was inches from the dark flesh between her chained legs. Do it, just the hell do it! But he’d dealt with pain countless times and knew how to deal with it. Endurance had been a job requirement.
“So,” he said to Thomas, “to clarify, Carnal is committed to fulfilling my requirements for a slave. I detail my standards and you find—how do you select her anyway?”
The bitch hunched over the arm rest shifted a little. No wonder. She certainly looked uncomfortable. Despite his sympathy, and he did feel just a bit sorry for her, he slapped her ass. “Spread it,” he ordered. Sighing, she widened her stance as far as the hobble allowed.
“Your prospect isn’t yet a slave,” Thomas explained. “Given what you’re being charged, it would be unethical of us to pass used merchandise onto you. You deserve something that’s yours alone.”
Mine. Me. No longer part of a sport that discards players the moment they’re no longer top performers.
The emotions he’d been battling for the better part of a year took hold. Grasping the slave’s pussy lips, he drew them apart. She yipped but didn’t move. Her juices coated his fingers, forcing him to tighten his hold.
“Hell, she’s turned on.”
Thomas chuckled. “Of course she is.”
The how and why of that was something he wanted to understand—later. Cursing at what he wasn’t sure, he rammed himself into the dripping hole. She tried to lift her head only to let it fall. Dark hair slid over her cheek and throat.
“You’ll get fresh meat.” Thomas’s voice came from a million miles away. “Just off the streets so to speak. Ready to be trained and tamed like you want her.”
He couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Two nights ago he’d picked up a woman at a bar and taken her home for some action so it wasn’t as if he hadn’t fucked for a while. But that had been different, the woman willing, seduction necessary, services paid for with several drinks.
This was different. A slave and not a woman was splayed before him. His to plunder.
Power and strength he’d started to forget he was capable of consumed him. Grabbing the useless arms, he lifted them until the slave gasped. Laughing, he slammed home.
“Master, please, you’re—“
“Shut up!” He pummeled the vulnerable buttocks. Laughed when her fingers curled in until her nails dug into her palms.
“Ride her,” Cliff encouraged.
He did, lost himself in a red rolling haze. This was his pussy, his cunt, a piece of meat that belonged to him tonight. Somehow her mind and body had misinterpreted the pain he’d inflicted, turning her on. Now by damn she was going to pay the price. No pleasure for her.
Just him riding her.
Making her slight body shake.
Filling her hole with his monster cock.
Pummeling.
Ejaculating.
Slapping and scratching her ass.
Chapter Two
Shari Isle ran.
Her breath left small white clouds in the cool morning air and her lungs burned, but she still had two of her daily five miles to go. Frost lived in the shaded places under the trees, but she’d run this route countless times. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know where she needed to concentrate and where she could let her mind drift.
At the beginning, the trail climbed steeply. Fortunately she was past that and on level ground in woods some hundred feet above the small town. This early in the morning, no vehicle sounds came from the unseen streets below. She sometimes encountered other runners on the peaceful route but usually not when she ran this early.
As soon as she’d put in her five miles, she’d go home, shower, eat breakfast, and go into the room she’d turned into her studio. She’d spend the next how many hours it took on the paintings that paid the bills and fed her soul.
Arms pumping and knees bending, she sidestepped a branch that had broken off since yesterday. She should have stopped and tossed it aside, but she was deep into sub space. It usually took a mile to reach that place where her body ceased to belong to her and became something weightless, mystical.
She loved this part of her daily routine. Thoughts flitted in and out. In a vague way she knew she’d eventually have to deal with reality. Now those things lacked weight. She’d become legs and lungs, heart and arms. Loving her isolation.
The sun was trying to break through the mist, but it would have to work harder than it was in order to get the job done. In fact if she didn’t know the trail as well as she did, she risked getting disoriented. That wasn’t a disaster. After all, the little town was down there. All she’d have to do to reconnect with civilization was—
A faint sound stopped her thought. She tried to make sense of what had caused it, but it hadn’t lasted long enough. A little uneasy, she tried to convince herself she’d heard a deer.
“Look, I don’t want to bother you,” she told the unseen creature. “You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”
Suddenly she wanted to laugh. Before long it would be rut season for the deer. The need to impregnate or become pregnant would override everything else. Bucks and does would have a single goal, to fuck.
In sad contrast, she hadn’t had sex since—
Movement to her left caused her to slow and turn in that direction. F
or an instant she thought she’d spotted a deer in the dense shadows. Then the survival instinct that had seen her through her childhood kicked into gear.
A man. Standing with his back to a tree. Watching her.
Unease mixed with confusion combined to increase her pace. As she left the watcher in her so-called dust, she concluded he’d been running when the need to pee overtook him. He’d relieved himself behind the tree and had been as surprised to see her as the other way around. She glanced back.
He’d moved onto the trail and was jogging after her. She judged him to be six feet tall and beefy with wide shoulders and a hint of a belly under his sweatshirt. It registered that he didn’t have a runner’s build which begged the question of what he was doing out here.
Even more uneasy, she picked up her pace. If she’d been on a track, she wouldn’t have to pay close attention to where she was going. That necessity kept her from looking behind her again. Besides, she didn’t want him to think he’d unnerved her.
Not that! Definitely not afraid.
Leaving the trees and entering an open area eased her mind. If necessary, she could veer off the trail and head cross-country. No way could the big man keep up. A moment later she chided herself for thinking dark thoughts. She actually considered stopping and waiting for him to catch up so they could chat.
Mist had dampened the ground, making it slippery. She needed to concentrate on her footing.
She was doing that, half losing herself in the memory of the pratfall she’d taken on black ice last winter when a figure appeared ahead of her. This man, leaner and taller than the other, stood straddle-legged in the middle of the path, facing her.
Damn it, what—
“About time you caught up to her,” the man in front said.
Still running, she looked over her shoulder. The first man was trotting toward her. He was far enough away that he didn’t pose a threat, yet there was something deliberate and challenging about his pace. Between that and the solid form in her way, she started to feel trapped.
“I told you I’m no runner,” the man behind her gasped. “Besides, I knew you were there to wrestle with her.”
Wrestle? The woods she’d always felt so comfortable in became a hostile environment. She slowed, careful not to look to the left where she intended to bolt if necessary. “I don’t appreciate this.” She spoke firmly. “The trail’s public. Everyone has equal right to be here.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” The man in front walked toward her with one arm at his side and the other in his pocket. “Didn’t your mother warn you about going alone into dark alleys? You never know who might be waiting to get their hands on you.”
Thinking rationally was becoming harder, and with the way her heart pounded, she could barely hear anything else.
“Don’t try running, little lady. We’re not going to let you go. You’re too valuable to us, a cash cow so to speak.” Pulling his hand out of his pocket, the man pointed a small pistol at her. Ice gripped her.
“That’s right.” This came from the man behind her. “And screaming isn’t going to do you any good because the three of us are the only ones out in this damn forsaken place.”
Oh my God! “What do you want?”
“You.”
The single word struck her like a fist to the belly. Fighting to remain upright, she stared at one man and then the other. They headed toward her as if they had all the time in the world for this.
“Don’t kill—“
“Kill?” The gun-totter waved his weapon at her. “That’s the last thing we’d do although there’ll be times when you wish everything would end.”
“Enough,” the other man spluttered. “We’re exposed out like this.”
“Indeed we are. Well, girlie, it’s been nice talking to you but now it’s time to—“
Shari didn’t wait for him to finish. Propelled by terror and self-preservation, she whirled and ran. Decent sized trees were several hundred feet away, but if she could reach them, she might be able to lose herself in shapes and shadows. Much as she hated turning her back on the men, she concentrated on what lay ahead.
Squawking, a bird took flight. Why hadn’t she screamed when this started?
Because screaming had never done the child she’d once been any good.
“Hey, don’t let her—“
“I won’t.”
A puffing sound caught her attention. It was still registering when something stung the middle of her back just below her neck. Bee? Wasp? Ignoring it, she fixed her attention on the trees now only a few feet away. She was counting her footsteps when she realized she was no longer running and had started to stumble.
Her mind refused to fully register. Her vision tunneled down so she could barely see. Feeling drunk, she reached out thinking to brace herself against a tree. For a moment her locked arm supported her. Then her leg muscles melted, and she sank to the ground. Her fingers twitched. Other than that, only her lungs and limited vision worked.
And her mind. A little.
“You took your damn sweet time putting her down.” One of the men nudged her side with his boot. Boot? What about running shoes?
“It’s all part of the experience, Reno. This is art, an exquisite event. It would be a shame to rush things.”
“You’re crazy.” The man called Reno bumped her side again. Strange that she could feel and yet not move. Strange and terrifying. “Let’s get the hell out of here. Once we have her at the facility—“
“Don’t be in such a rush. These are the best moments, when she has no idea what her future’s going to be like and no control over anything, her body in particular.”
She’d landed on her stomach with one arm under her and her face against the ground. Something pressed against the back of her thighs, but she didn’t have the strength to turn her head to see what it was. Her comprehension of what was happening sharpened. Why oh why couldn’t she get her body to respond?
“I love the way this nerve agent works,” the man without a name said. By the sound she guessed he’d lowered himself to his knees beside her. He must be pressing on her thighs. “All muscles beyond the essential of heart and lungs cease to respond while the mind remains. It’s nature’s way of protecting vital organs.”
After patting her thighs, he took hold of her head and turned it to the side. Grateful as she was because she no longer had to fight to breathe, he’d positioned her so she was forced to look at him. He was too close, bigger than she’d initially thought with smooth cheeks and an easy smile. She hated his small, deep-set eyes.
Sliding his hand under the cheek against the ground, he lifted her head a little. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Damek, at least I am as far as you’re concerned. We’ll teach you to call us Master. My partner goes by Reno. I’m sure he has his reasons for not using the one he was born with, same as me.”
“Damn it,” Reno spluttered. “This isn’t a social event.”
“Nor would I want it to be. Now, since neither of us is inclined to carry her out of here, I suggest we get started on preparing her for departure.”
“Now you’re talking. Too bad bringing chains wasn’t convenient. At least we have what it takes to keep her quiet.”
“You know,” Damek said as he let her head down, “there are times when I prefer rope to the more technologically advanced restraints. The simplicity of rope appeals to my sensibilities.”
“Whatever.”
She didn’t want to look at Reno. Crazy as it was, she felt safe with him out of her sight. However, maybe he knew what she was thinking because he leaned down and rolled her onto her side, bending the leg under her so she stayed where he’d placed her. That done, he made a show of pulling up his sweatshirt. His pockets bulged. One by one, making sure she saw everything, he extracted up separate pieces of rope. Some were only a few feet long while others were several times that. All were white, cotton maybe.
Please, someone, help me!
“Silence first,” Damek said and
took one rope from his partner.
“I agree, but once you’re done, I’m taking over.”
“Because you want to mall her.” Damek chuckled. Her blood turned icy. It froze even more when Damek hauled her around so she lay chest down over his thighs. Forcing strength into her neck, she lifted her head the slightest bit.
“Damn,” Reno said. “That’s wearing off fast.”
“Probably because she has good metabolism.”
Grabbing her hair, Damek lifted her head even more. Her mouth sagged open, causing her to drool. Before she realized what he had in mind, he’d shoved several strands of rope into her mouth. Releasing her hair, he pressed the rope between her teeth. Her lips were being forced apart, her tongue pushed toward the back of her throat. She nearly gagged.
Done with knotting the rope behind her head, Damek rolled her onto her back. Her fingers twitched again as she stared up at the two imposing male forms.
“I agree,” Reno said. “There’s beauty in seeing a bitch with her mouth filled. Kind of makes me look forward to when it’s my cock down her throat.”
No! Please, no!
“So,” Damek said, “I assume you intend to impress her with your rope skills. That’s why I approved when we were paired for this project.”
“I heard you’re most interested in the finished package.”
Damek chuckled. “It’s my sensitive nature.”
“The hell it is.” Reno looked around. “I have an idea. I think you’ll like this.”
No, don’t let this be happening!
Oblivious to her crazy plea, Reno pushed her socks down and wound rope around her ankles while Damek held her so she had no choice but to watch. The maybe foot long strand between her ankles had one purpose, to hobble her.
