Dark Journey [Ariel's Desire 2]

by Candace Smith

  Turning Leaves was distracted from her thoughts when she felt Linda’s hand under the table. She turned to the woman with annoyance. “I used to be with Robby, before I became Steve’s companion. He has interesting games with his ropes, and the way he handles a whip.” She shook her head in wonder. “Sometimes I really miss him,” Linda smiled. Think about that, you little twit, while you’re scheming to hurt him.

  Turning Leaves could care less about how Robby trained the horses. If that woman thought she could be impressed with his skills, she was nuts. No one here had skills anything near those of the warriors she’d left behind. How did I get myself into this stupid mess?

  Finally, the meal and gossiping were over. Turning Leaves was tired from the long walk home. She followed Robby to collect her things from the wagon, still trying to figure out a way to placate Constance’s threat. Although Robby didn’t seem affected by the long day, Turning Leaves decided the flatlander had to be at least as tired as she was. Careful little strokes and massages would probably put him to sleep. Then, it wouldn’t be her fault if nothing happened between them.

  Satisfied with her plan, she walked into the little cabin by the stables. Other than two chairs in front of a small fireplace with a low table set between them, the only other furnishings were a large dresser and a four poster bed.

  “There’s an outhouse out back we share with Linda and Steve,” Robby announced as he tossed his hat onto a shelf by the door.

  Turning Leaves made her way there, delaying things as much as she could. Robby could see her scheming mind working and smiled to himself. Oh, my little Indian girl, there hasn’t been a mare yet I haven’t been able to tame.

  When she came back, Robby had stripped down to his buckskin pants. The look in his eyes made her nervous. He didn’t look the least bit tired as he walked over to her. “Welcome home, Turning Leaves. And this is your home, here with me forever. I see your mind working, but you’re not going back. Ten years. Ten years I’ve watched everyone else with companions while I was shut out.”

  Turning Leaves was confused at his controlled manner. Up to now, he seemed to just stupidly follow after her, trying to flatter and impress her. This wasn’t the look she was seeing in his green eyes now. There was a determined look on his face that made her want to run.

  She tried to control the quiver in her voice. “Well then, I’m sure you want to see me happy. Right now, I’m tired from the walk back here and I need to rest. At home, I would have been given a horse to make a journey like this.”

  “I told you, this is your home. It doesn’t really matter that you’re tired. You’ll have plenty of time to rest, later. Last spring when you first started your game with me, I almost chased you off. I watched you try to maneuver jealousies with your friends by finding excuses to be near me. Oh, I’m not under the misconception you love me. I don’t even know or care how much you like me. It was quite a game to get you here and still make you believe you were the one pulling the strings. When your parents practically threw you at me,” he chuckled, “well, that was just a bonus to seal it.”

  Turning Leaves shook her head, long black hair swaying with her confusion. Who was this man? This wasn’t the simpering, drooling, lovesick puppy she’d toyed with.

  “Now, let’s see what prize I’ve won for my patience.” He had her cornered and placed a hand on each side of her head. When he leaned forward to kiss her, she turned her head. He reached behind and fisted her hair, turning her back to him and crushed his mouth against hers.

  She tried to push him away. “Stop this, Robby. You stop this right now,” she demanded. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you’re making me really mad.”

  He crushed back down on her mouth with bruising force and pressed his body against her. She felt his hardened length pressing into her hip and finally got scared. Tears began to spill down her cheeks. He moved back and traced one over her cheek with his tongue.

  “One thing the Vampires, particularly Constance, and I share, is our arousal of pain with our sex. She’s used me as her source for many years. Patrick taught her several tricks she shared with me. I’m sure they’ll teach them to you, too.”

  “Let me go. I don’t know why you’re trying to scare me, but if you don’t let me go right now, I’m going to send word to my father,” she stammered.

  “Not going to happen. No one’s going to be riding in off the prairie for you. I imagine your parents may have a slight twinge of despair about you leaving, but they’re probably already organizing Misting Waters’ joining with her warrior, and you occupy very little of their thoughts.”

  The words stung because Turning Leaves knew they were true. She reached up to slap him and he caught her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. “I knew you’d be a wild one. All that haughty arrogance you flaunt will be fun to tame.” He dragged her over by the bed. She batted at his hand as he picked up a leather strip from the dresser and wrapped it around her captured wrist. He yanked the hand behind her.

  “Stop this, Robby stop.” She quickly changed tactics. “Please, Robby. We can have a good time together, but you need to slow down. Please.”

  She’d let down her guard enough for him to grab her other hand. He had worked it behind her to join the other one before she realized her words weren’t having any effect on him. With his years of experience tying hobbles for the horses, he had her wrist lashed to the other one in seconds.

  Turning Leaves was terrified at being secured into the vulnerable position. She opened her mouth to scream and his hand clapped over her mouth. “No, no. As you said, people are tired from the walk home. It would be rude to interrupt their rest.” He reached on the dresser for a kerchief and shoved it into her mouth. The muffled wails behind the gag excited him while he tied it in place with another strip of leather.

  Her panicked eyes and futile kicks fed his arousal as he began untying the laces on her shoulders. She twisted and turned trying to get away from him while her dress slipped down to her waist. His rough hands painfully grabbed onto her full breasts. “I’ve dreamed of what your body would look like. I’m pleased to not be disappointed.”

  Any movement caused his grip to tighten. She remained as still as the trapped animal she was. He looked in her eyes and saw the exact moment she realized none of her games were going to save her. He pulled her up and the buckskin shift slid to the floor. His eyes focused then narrowed on the tight black curls hiding her center. “That will have to go.”

  Her eyes widened. Oh god, what have I done? She made a futile attempt to run as he walked away to retrieve a rope hanging by the door. He easily caught her and dragged her back over by the bed.

  His hands worked quickly wrapping the rope around her back and under her breasts. He twisted them in her cleavage and wrapped them behind her neck, twisted again and went under her arms to run it over the top of her captured mounds. He crossed them in the center and pulled the ends to the back securing the halter painfully tight.

  Turning Leaves was screaming behind the gag as the hemp cut into her soft skin. A flat calloused hand pressed into her chest as he pushed her roughly down onto the bed. He took the loose end of the halter and tied it tightly to the headboard. She was kicking furiously with her legs and crying uncontrollably. Robby yanked on the rope and she groaned as the whole halter tightened agonizingly around her bruised breasts, forcing the swelling orbs up between the ropes. Eventually, she lay still. The pampered girl had never experienced such cruelty.

  She lay sobbing while he removed her tall moccasins. Muffled wails accompanied weak kicks as he spread her legs and tied them to the bedposts. She was too scared and in too much pain to be humiliated by having her sex spread open to his leering eyes. “Yes, this has to go,” he murmured as he ran his fingers through her nest of curls and randomly pinched and ripped out a few strands. His green eyes gleamed in satisfaction at her shriek.

  He left the cabin and the terrified girl struggled against the bindings, each movement cutting off the
circulation to her tortured breasts, forcing her to suck air into her nose and fall back in frustrated pain. He came back inside with a small bowl of water and got a razor out of the dresser drawer.

  As he shaved her pussy, she cried but lay still, afraid she’d be cut. Whimpers escaped the gag as she felt his hand stroke over her nakedness. “That’s better.” His finger ran down the length of her bared split. “Much better,” he murmured as he pried her further open. “Now, let’s see what my woman has to offer for my attentions.” He stroked her until she started to drip warm cream from her center.

  Turning Leaves shook her head as the first cramp contracted her walls. She desperately fought the feelings that were causing her hips to thrust against his hand while he laughed softly. “I think you could become quite a little pain slut, Turning Leaves. Your juices are already dampening the sheets.”

  She gave a humiliated sob. His tongue stroked her clit and she bucked into him. “You like that, do you?” She shook her head frantically as he dipped his head again.

  She fought her orgasm for several more minutes. When it finally exploded through her, she arched off the bed, torturing her bound breasts. Pale bruises were already coloring the raw skin where the ropes cut into her.

  Robby stood and removed his pants. Turning Leaves wailed and shook her head as he knelt between her legs and rubbed his swollen cock through her cream. She felt the crown of the thick shaft center on her hole and begin to slowly enter. She screamed as he pushed his length into her.

  “I see the fear and hate in your eyes. You thought your games were superior to mine. I’m not one of your little Indian boys you could so easily manipulate, my love. I’m the one manipulating you. I’m going to make you grip me with desire while I spill into you. You’re going to be bucking into me, trying to get me deeper before I’m done with you.”

  She continued to wail pitiful sounds as his finger began to work her swollen clit again. She had no control over her filled channel as it began spasmed grips along his buried cock. Her moans of despair filled his senses and he closed his eyes, bottom lip quivering with the exquisite pulls against his shaft. “Oh, yes. You were worth waiting for, my Indian.” As he’d predicted, when the second orgasm ripped through her, she arched and bucked into him, screaming behind the gag as he continued to stroke her while he emptied into her. “Aaargh,” he groaned, as he held her hips, plowing the last drop out of his cock.

  He dropped down beside her and rolled a nipple. Latching two fingers onto the tip, he pulled and pinched until he was rewarded with her shriek. He looked into her frightened eyes. “I think you and I are going to have a very good life together.” He kissed her forehead and rolled over to sleep.

  Her shudders lasted well into the night until she finally fell into an exhausted sleep. In the morning, she felt him move to get up and she stiffened. “I think you should rest awhile longer, my love. I’ll bring you back some breakfast. You’ll need your strength tonight.”

  Robby dressed and walked to the hall leaving her still bound to the bed. Constance made her way over to him, seeing the glow of a pleased man. “How is our little Indian this morning?”

  “She’s tied up at the moment, but quite satisfied,” Robby chuckled.

  “I just knew she’d work out for you,” Constance smiled.

  Robby finished a leisurely breakfast, prepared a plate for Turning Leaves, and returned to the cabin. After placing the plate on the dresser, he untied her from the bed, leaving her in the halter with her hands bound behind her and the gag in place. “I figure you got about five minutes before people start leaving the hall,” he said as he walked her toward the door and pointed her in the direction of the outhouse.

  She was exhausted with shock, but the thought of anyone in the settlement seeing her naked and bound had her running. Her mind worked frantically on where she could escape to. Ultimately, she returned to the cabin in tears.

  Robby looked at the frightened girl, enjoying her quivers and trembles. He stroked his hardening shaft and she whimpered when his smiling green eyes turned to the appearance of a leer. “I think it’s time to remove that gag.”

  As he untied it, his fingers stroked her cheek and he whispered, “You can scream if you want. Constance and Patrick would love to hear that. It may excite them enough to come join us.” He kissed her temple when she moaned.

  “Please untie me Robby. It hurts so badly,” she quietly sobbed. “I’ll do anything you say.”

  “Of course you will, Turning Leaves.” He appeared to think about her proposal. “I think your breakfast should begin with me. If you finish all of it, I’ll remove the harness.”

  Turning Leaves quivering increased as he released his erection from his breeches. She stared at the thick pink flesh and her stomach rolled at the thought of touching the purple hued crown with her lips. Her feet refused to move toward the bed where he sat. “Anything I say, Turning Leaves,” he reminded her.

  Slow steps moved her toward him. He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her down. Kneeling in front of him, her wide eyes looked at the shaft that had speared her so roughly the night before and sealed any dreams she had of joining with another. She hated him. She hated this engorged beast inches from her face.

  A hand fisted in her hair pulling her toward it. She whimpered when her lips brushed across the tip, coating her with the small escaping drop from his slit. His other hand reached for the rope trailing from the harness and began slowly pulling, tightening the bindings around her swollen bruised orbs. “If I feel the scrape of one tooth, I’ll rip them from your gums before lunchtime.”

  The girl groaned and reluctantly opened her mouth. The fist in her hair guided her up and down movements. “Suck me, Indian girl or I’ll shove myself so far down your throat, I’ll use your retching gags to cum.”

  Her whimpers vibrated off his shaft as he plunged her head up and down. It was marvelous. He closed his eyes, determined to draw out the act as long as he could. He thought of Linda. Now, she could suck some serious cock. Too bad she enjoyed his other games, denying him of the fear he liked to see in his partner’s eyes.

  The warm mouth on him now, was doing very little other than the motion he was forcing. She’ll get better. We have forever to work on it. He forced her head down and pushed past the back of her throat. He felt the gripping force of her gagging throat and watched her useless hands clench and open behind her. When he pulled her up, she gulped air. Before she could beg, he plunged her back down.

  “Yes. Yes, that’s it. Oh, god, that’s much better.” He started dipping her head faster. “Oh, oh yes. Ah, that’s good,” he gritted. With one final move, both his hands gripped her head and he thrust up into her, spilling his salty, sticky stream deep into her throat with jerking spurts.

  She inhaled and sobbed loudly when he retreated. Her stomach spasmed as she tried to vomit the mess. Mother, please come get me,’ she begged her silent plea.

  “Come eat your eggs.” He lifted her by the harness and dragged her over to a chair. He untied her hands and she laid them in her lap, cupping them over her naked pussy. The ropes on the halter began to loosen and she gasped as blood finally flowed unimpeded to her breasts. It stung painfully, but she stifled her scream.

  “I told you to eat your breakfast, Turning Leaves.”

  With almost unconscious thought, she picked up the fork and ate, forcing herself not to vomit when she thought of the eggs mixing with his sperm in her belly. When she’d finished, he tossed her buckskin shift to her. “Get dressed. We’re going to figure out what the hell you can do around here to make yourself useful. That’s the last meal you’re eating on the backs of your new family, without doing something to earn your share.”

  Turning Leaves quickly dressed at the promise of leaving the torture chamber that was her new home. She’d do anything to avoid being in this room.

  They ran into Constance almost immediately. “Good morning, Turning Leaves.” She glanced at the raw, bruised wrists and her eyes flashed
red then returned to cornflower blue. “I trust you enjoyed your first night in the settlement.”

  Turning Leaves remained still, staring at the ground as a slight flush spread across her cheeks. Robby squeezed her with the arm across her shoulders. “We had a very satisfying night. Turning Leaves has reconsidered her words at dinner. She understands she needs to contribute the same as the rest of us. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Patrick and I will be visiting with your companion occasionally. I think placing her in the kitchen with the elders would be best. They’ll make sure she gets plenty of juice to replenish her,” Constance replied.

  Turning Leaves had no idea what she meant by her words. She didn’t know that as the Vampires fed off her, the juice helped renew her blood. At this point, she didn’t care where they sent her, as long as it was far from Robby.

  Robby guided her through the hall to the kitchen. “Turning Leaves decided she’d like to help out after all. Constance suggested she might like it here in the kitchen.”

  “We can always use an extra pair of hands,” Gertie smiled. Only elders worked in the kitchens. It was a reward of sorts for their many years of harder labor outside in the gardens and laundry. Constance had already told the four women to expect the girl.

  They had no misconceptions as to why. Teaching her to help prepare the meals for the settlement would come second to seeing she replenished her source for young blood. Gertie noticed the girl’s pallor and nervousness and thought it was due to the Vampires. Once she realized the feedings wouldn’t hurt her, she’d be fine.

  Turning Leaves worked silently, doing as the women asked. It would do no good to complain or beg and might anger Robby into hurting her worse. She studied the older women. Three looked like they were in their fifties. Helen told her she was seventy-two. Turning Leaves envisioned herself at that age, still kneading dough for the settlers. No way, was she staying here.

  At noon meal, she helped set the long tables and carry platters of bread and pots of stew out to the people coming into the hall. When all the food was served, she sat silently next to Robby, staring at her stew while she ate.