His Wonder Baby: A Miracle Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  He pauses and I can feel a thrill run through me as I picture each act. I can practically feel his thick cock between my lips and it makes my pussy clench with excitement. I’m dripping wet although it’s crazy, fucked up, wrong. Maybe I’m sick or something worse, but I want all of these things.

  “I’m going to train you to be the perfect little fuck doll for me, Riley,” he says, and a shiver runs down my spine.

  I want it. It’s so wrong, so dirty and deliciously wrong, but I want it. I need to feel something that isn’t just boredom and pain. I’ve been locked in a cage for so long now, and Logan is the first man to really seem like he cares about me. He said he won’t do anything without my consent, and I don’t know why I believe him, but I do. Maybe he doesn’t really care about me but at least he’s not actively hurting me, and that’s a step up from the other men in my life up to this point.

  But I won’t just be some guy’s toy. He’s a total stranger and I’m not just going to give myself to him. I want to survive this, but at what cost? I don’t want to survive this as a used up, broken husk of what I used to be. I can’t do it, I won’t do it.

  I’ve let men push me around my whole life. I let my father abuse me all he wanted, that bastard, and I won’t let this guy get away with it.

  “No,” I say, surprising myself.

  He raises an eyebrow. “You have no other choice.”

  “No,” I say again. “I won’t.”

  “You will.” He leans forward. “Or you’ll be hurt far worse than anything I’ll do to you. They’ll tear you to pieces, Riley, and pass you around like a fucking toy.”

  I bite back tears, but not fast enough. I look away, not wanting to be weak in front of him.

  “You can cry, but that doesn’t change anything. You’re mine. Play along and you might survive this.”

  I glare at him. “Fuck you.”

  He smiles. “Soon enough.” He stands up and leaves the cell. I hear the door lock behind him.

  I collapse back onto my bed, feeling like a child as the tears stream down my face. I want to be strong, I want to survive, but I’m torn in half. I don’t know if I can trust Logan. I don’t know if he has my best interests at heart, or if he just wants to use and abuse me.

  There’s no way of knowing. Part of me is attracted to him, and there’s no denying that. But I can’t just throw myself at him. I can’t just let him train me.

  I have to be strong and I have to be smart. There’s a way out of this, I just have to be patient. It’ll come to me.

  I get myself under control and burrow under the single scratchy blanket, dreaming of what I’ll do next.

  6

  Logan

  Waves crash over the rocks as I lean against the compound’s outer wall, taking a short break. I could probably climb to the top of the wall, or find some way to slip out, but I don’t want to risk getting caught.

  Mostly, I just need a break. It drains me more than I thought it would, treating Riley like that. I want to pull her out of here, but I can’t do it. I’m trained to follow through with my mission no matter what happens, and that’s what I’m going to do. Even if it means going against my own feelings or emotions and doing things that I don’t want to do.

  I haven’t pushed her yet, but I know I’m going to. She knows it too. She can see it in my gaze. I keep telling her that it’ll be best if she listens and obeys, but the way she lashed out earlier surprised me. She seemed like she was actually going to come at me, and for a moment I braced myself. But then she broke down into tears, and I had to get out of there.

  I push off the wall, trying to shove my conflict down deep inside of me. On the one hand, I do want the girl, and will take her when the time comes. But on the other, I don’t hurt innocent people, and I know Riley is an innocent.

  It just means I have to make her want it. And by the way she reacted when I talked dirty to her, I don’t think that’s going to be too hard.

  I walk along the outer wall, following it all the way around the compound. So far, from what I can tell, the place is made up of a large wall surrounding what seems to be four big buildings in total with several smaller ones scattered around. The main buildings house the girls and the guards. The other buildings serve a few different purposes, but I’m not entirely sure what yet.

  Guards are posted at every corner of the wall and at the entrance. They’re well-armed, but they don’t look like military regulars. I don’t know how many guards are in the place yet, but it looks to be about thirty, maybe fifty at most.

  I finish my circuit of the wall and head back toward the main building. There’s a lot that I don’t know about this place, and I have a lot of work to do. There are likely some secret passages underneath the place that I need to find before I can call the strike in. I guess I have about two weeks’ worth of reconnaissance to do, assuming I don’t get caught first.

  I head up the main stairs of the compound, intending to walk the big building again, when I stop short just as I enter the door. Standing across the entrance hall with three other men is Anton.

  I didn’t expect to see him here. I want to turn and leave, but he’s already looking at me with a big smile on his face. He says something in Spanish to the guards and then steps toward me.

  “Logan,” he says. “I was wondering when I’d see you.”

  “Anton,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face. We shake hands and he stands next to me, gesturing at the room.

  “What do you think so far?” he asks.

  “It’s an interesting place,” I say.

  He laughs. “Interesting? It’s the biggest fucking operation in the northern hemisphere!”

  “I’m impressed,” I say, nodding at him. Anton is the kind of man that will respond to this sort of flattery. I can already tell that his ego is enormous and needs constant feeding. He’s the worst kind of person.

  “We move thousands of girls through here every year,” he says. “I’m keeping the fucking Russian mafia in business singlehandedly.”

  “I’ve heard good things,” I say. “So far, I can see why you’ve been so successful.”

  “We run a tight ship,” he says, laughing. “No bitch gets out of line and survives.” He leans toward me, a grin on his lips. “Speaking of bitches, how’s yours coming along?”

  “She’s good,” I say.

  “Good?” He laughs. “Bitch shouldn’t be fucking good. Bitch should be on her knees, bloody and shit, you know what I mean?”

  I force myself to smile at his disgusting joke. “Don’t worry, Anton. I find my methods are very effective.”

  “Well. They say you’re very good.” He shrugs, exaggerating his movements. “How do you do it, anyway? You got some new torture we don’t know about?”

  “Something like that,” I say, hedging.

  “Okay, okay, I get it. You want to keep it a secret.” He laughs again, putting his arm around my shoulders. I want to break his wrist off. “Well, you have a good time, okay? Break that girl, do whatever you do, okay?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  “Okay then.” He releases me and walks away, heading in the direction the soldiers had gone.

  I watch him disappear around the corner then release a breath. I feel disgusting, like I need a fucking shower. This whole place is infested with scum and spineless bastards but Anton is one of the worst.

  I sigh and shake my head. Thousands of girls a year. That’s more than I thought. We were estimating six hundred, maybe seven, but a thousand? He must be sending some girls off to different countries if that’s the case. He could be lying, but I wasn’t so sure.

  The compound is huge. He has the facilities to move that many girls. He has the infrastructure all over the place, too.

  Rufus Nosek is right. His daughter is important, but she’s not the only girl that I’ll be saving by taking this place down. If only we can survive and get through this together, it’ll be worth it in the end.

  I turn and go the other way, down a
few halls, and into the kitchen. There I gather up a tray and put together a little dinner for Riley. Once it’s all set, I head out, skirting through the halls, and finally stopping outside of her cell.

  I gently unlock it and open the door. Riley is lying on her bunk, clearly asleep. I place her food down on the floor next to her and then stand in the doorway, watching her.

  I should wake her and make her eat, but I don’t have the heart to do it.

  Let her sleep. Soon I’m going to have to push her training and start it for real. She deserves a little rest before we get started for real. Let her sleep and maybe have good dreams.

  The next time I see her, I won’t be taking it easy. She’ll submit and she’ll break, or else I might not be able to keep her alive.

  7

  Riley

  I wake up slowly, blinking until I come to consciousness. I can’t remember any dreams I had, but I’m sweating like I had a nightmare. The tiny window has light streaming in through it, and so I sit up and look around my cell.

  On the ground next to me is a tray with some food on it. I reach down and touch a piece of bread, but it’s cold. I wonder who brought it and how I didn’t wake up when they came in. I pick up a glass of water and drink it down gratefully, surprised at how thirsty I am.

  For some stupid reason, I was hoping that it was all a dream. I was hoping that I’d wake up to an empty bedroom, maybe a little hungover from drinking too much at the club. But it’s not a dream, not at all.

  I’m a prisoner. And Logan wants to turn me into a sex slave. I don’t know what he wants to do with me after that, probably sell me to someone. I know that I have to resist, but I’m not sure how long I can hold out. He says he won’t hurt me, but I don’t know if I can trust him.

  I’m not awake long before I hear someone outside of my cell. The door opens slowly and Logan steps into the room carrying another tray. He smiles at me.

  “You’re awake,” he says.

  I nod, watching him carefully. He sets the tray down next to the original one before picking that one up.

  “This is cold,” he says. “Eat this.” He nods at the new tray before putting the original one outside the door. When he’s finished, he shuts the door and locks it.

  I watch him, not moving. I glance down at the tray when he’s finished and I feel my stomach rumble. He sits down on the far end of my cot and nods at the food.

  “Go ahead,” he says. “Eat.”

  I shake my head.

  He sighs. “Eat, Riley.” He picks up the tray and puts it on his lap. He takes a fork and spears some eggs, piling them onto a piece of toast, and then hands me the toast.

  I take it and look at it. He nods encouragingly.

  “Go ahead. Eat.”

  I take a bite. It’s actually pretty delicious. Soon, despite myself, I eat the whole piece of toast, and then another, and then all the eggs, and finally two pieces of bacon.

  He watches me as I eat, silently staring and judging. I wish I could know what he’s thinking, but I don’t ask him. I don’t want to engage with him any more than I have to.

  It’s dangerous. He’s handsome and striking, but I can’t let myself be fooled.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he says finally as I’m finishing up my food.

  I cock my head at him. “Why?”

  “I want to know you, Riley.”

  “There’s nothing to know.”

  He grins at me. “Come on. We’re stuck in this together. We might as well try and make it work.”

  I cock my head. What does he mean, we’re stuck? I’m the one that’s a freaking prisoner. He can leave whenever he wants to.

  “What are your parents like?” he presses.

  “My mom is dead,” I say, not sure why.

  “I’m sorry. When?”

  “A long time ago. I was a baby.”

  He nods. “So you didn’t know her?”

  “No. I mean, not really. I have some home movies of her but I never knew her.”

  “I didn’t know my mother, either,” he says, leaning back against the wall. I watch him, curious, wondering what he’s aiming at. “She died when I was two. Drunk driver hit her while she was out buying groceries.” He turns his head toward me. “What was your father like?”

  “I don’t want to talk about my family,” I say sternly.

  “Yeah,” he says, smiling. “My dad was an asshole, too.”

  I stare at him, not saying a word. He has no clue what I went through. He has no clue what my father was like.

  “It’s always like that, right?” he continues. “You’re born to assholes and you try not to let them make you an asshole, too, but you usually fail.” He stretches his arms up in the air and I get a glimpse of his strong biceps and the tattoos that cover his arms. He drops them down into his lap and looks at me. “My dad was a real piece of shit. He was a marine in Vietnam and pushed me into the military. I guess that’s why I turned out the way I did.”

  “You were in the military?”

  He nods. “A long time ago.”

  “How did you end up here?”

  He smiles a little cryptically and looks away. “That’s a complicated story.”

  “I have time.”

  “No, you don’t.” He looks back at me with a serious expression. “Do you understand what kind of trouble you’re in?”

  I stare at him, feeling the terror that I’ve been trying to stave off since this all happened begin to crawl its way up my guts.

  “I know,” I say finally.

  He puts his hand on my knee. I feel a thrill run down my spine and I don’t flinch away.

  “I’m here to help you. As much as you think I’m not, I am.” He removes his hand then stands up and faces me. “Now. Strip.”

  I stare at him, mouth hanging open. “What?”

  “Strip. Take off your clothes.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Riley.” He crosses his arms. “Strip for me. If you do, I’ll bring you some more blankets. Maybe some books to read. You’re bored in here, aren’t you?”

  I stare at him, fists clenched. “I’m not going to strip.”

  He steps closer and I watch his muscular body. “I can make life easier, Riley, my little pet. Take off your clothes. I’ll bring them back when they’re clean.”

  I stare into his eyes and for a second I can imagine him staring at my body, maybe even touching me. I can see his fingers graze along my skin.

  But I’m not doing it. I shake my head. “I’m fine,” I say.

  “Food. Comfort. Pleasure. I can give you these things. All you have to do is take off your clothes.”

  “No,” I say again.

  He smiles. “Okay. Have a good day.” He opens the door to my cell and disappears, shutting it and locking it behind him.

  I stare at the closed door for a second then I pick up the tray he left behind and I throw it against the far wall. I stare at it for a long time, angry and excited all at once. I wish I had taken my clothes off for him, just to see his eyes gaze at my body, but I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to give him what he wants.

  I’ll fight for as long as I can.

  8

  Riley

  He doesn’t come back for two days.

  I’m left alone in that cell with nothing to do but stare at the barren walls. At first, I think he’s just busy and maybe he’ll come back soon. Instead, there’s nothing, and soon the first day passes. My stomach is rumbling as I realize that he’s not coming to feed me.

  The next day is the same. I hear nothing and see nothing, and no food comes. I begin to think that he forgot about me, or worse, he gave up on me. Maybe he doesn’t care about me anymore and I’m going to be left to rot in this cell.

  I don’t want to die in some prison in Mexico. I never got to live at all, and now I’m starving to death alone away from everything I know.

  My thoughts drift to the darkest parts of my life. I can’t help myself. I relive some of the w
orst beatings my father gave me. He used to call me trash, a pathetic loser, a bitch and a whore. He would lock me in my room and not let me leave for weeks at a time. All because I’d do some tiny, minor thing incorrectly and send him into a rage. My whole life was spent trying to avoid those rages.

  He can’t touch me now, but that thought doesn’t comfort me. I may be far from his reach, but I’m still starving to death.

  Where is Logan? Why isn’t he helping me? He said he wouldn’t hurt me, but I feel like I’m pretty hurt. He could at least give me something to eat. I have water from the spigot in the wall, but that’s not enough. I don’t know how long I can last without food. Probably a week or more, but I really don’t know.

  The day drags on and I feel the darkness pushing in at the edges of my mind. I don’t know what to do. I wish I had just given Logan what he wanted two days ago, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. It’s not like he’s some hideous mutant. Far from it, actually. The man is gorgeous and clearly very strong.

  I just can’t trust him. I want to keep some measure of self-respect, though clearly everything they’re doing here is meant to take that away from me. I went from one hell right into another, and I just need some small glimmer, some tiny ray of sunshine. I need a little hope to help me get through this.

  Eventually night comes and I fall asleep. I don’t dream, or at least I don’t remember them. I wake up to the early morning light piercing through the small window at the top of my cell.

  When I roll over, I open my eyes and see a tray. It’s sitting on the ground, full of food. I stare at it, trying to decide if I’m dreaming or not, but it’s real. I reach out tentatively and take a piece of bread.

  “Good morning, pet.”

  I look up, surprised. Logan is sitting against the far wall, a smile on his face.

  I hold the toast and stare at him, not sure what to do. He’s watching me with that grin, and I don’t know what he wants. He’s so handsome, with tattoos snaking up his arms. He’s wearing a short sleeve black t-shirt and jeans. I can see a knife in a holster on his belt.