Carnal Slave

by Vonna Harper

  “You struggle to give him an answer that’ll satisfy him, but the truth is, you don’t know why you’re doing the things you are. He’s everywhere. Not just standing over you but possessing your pores and part of the air you breathe. You can’t remember when he didn’t dominate your existence.”

  Master Damek’s breathing had become irregular, and he sounded as if his throat was sore. He could have taken her anytime, but he’d waited. How hard that must have been and why had he put himself through what he had?

  Would he spill himself in her mouth? Expect her to swallow—

  “Easy, easy. Just be. Don’t think.”

  For too long she couldn’t shove aside the unpleasant thought of him ejaculating down her throat, but his cock waited at her lips, and she was deep in the darkness he’d created.

  “Since he bought you, your master has kept you in a cage. He seldom speaks to you.

  Today’s trip to the summer-blessed field is so different from what you’ve been experiencing.

  You want him to know how grateful you are. If you could, you’d wait until a butterfly lands on your finger and show it to him, but you can’t because you’re on your knees and your trapped nipples are on fire. Praying this is what he wants, you rub your cheek against his thigh. He smiles down at you and lets go of the chain. Fire gnaws at not just your breasts but your entire body. This is his doing. His way of bringing you back to life.”

  On the tail of a deep breath that pulled his scent into her, she relaxed her jaw and fully opened her mouth. Seconds ticked by as she waited for him to push into her, and when that still didn’t happen, she leaned forward as his cock filled her. She didn’t ask herself why rewarding him was important. She wanted to. That was enough.

  Master Damek grabbed her hair and anchored her to him. A fresh wave of sexual heat flicked through her as she again captured his scent.

  After a length of time she couldn’t judge, he started thrusting. In contrast to Mitch’s fierce attack that one awful time, Master Damek kept to a measured pace that allowed her to remain in the world his words had created. He became almost godlike to her, a masterfully self-contained man putting his trainee’s peace of mind before his carnal needs. The longer his cock slid over her tongue and the roof of her mouth, the less aware she was of the distinction between them. She closed her lips around what she now saw as his offering.

  “Fuck me. Do what instinct tells you to.”

  Before this moment instinct would have had her spitting him out—and paying the price, but something had changed between them, at least for today.

  She leaned into him even more and held herself there. His hold on her hair contributed to their closeness, but he surely knew she had no desire to fight his control. His cock was mystical, the embodiment of everything it meant to be a man. Her intensely private father had never allowed her to see him unless he was fully clothed. She hadn’t seen an aroused cock until the night she’d believed she’d lose her virginity. However, seeing the ugly length had shocked her into pulling demanding he leave. In time she’d reconciled herself to the sight of a swollen cock, but she was certain she’d never worship one.

  If her master asked, she wasn’t sure she’d admit she’d started to worship his organ.

  She’d never felt this way about one—never before wanted to explore swollen veins and silken skin.

  “About. Damn. Time. This waiting—ah shit, yeah, shit.”

  Picking up the pace of his thrusts, he went deeper. The tip of his cock stroked the back of her throat, the touch a whispered kiss she easily handled. She’d stopped shivering and was becoming more and more aroused. Beyond this facility he’d brought her to, people lived ordinary lives. They didn’t matter to her, only connecting with this all-powerful man did.

  Widening his stance, he pushed into her. Because of the blindfold, nothing stood between her and what she believed he was feeling and doing. Maybe—maybe she wielded power of her own.

  In her mind’s eye, his neck tendons stood out, his mouth gaped, and his eyes bulged as he buried himself in impending release. He wasn’t simply having sex with his slave-in-training’s mouth, he was connecting with someone who’d become important to him. The naked creature at his feet with her arms behind her and face upturned existed for one purpose—his pleasure.

  She’d surrendered her body and soul to him. He didn’t have to look into her eyes to know that.

  Surrender?

  As he consumed more and more of her, the unseen world spun in ever-faster circles, making her dizzy. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, couldn’t find the distinction between them. This man, her master, was becoming more and more excited. She wasn’t an expert when it came to comprehending the male beast, yet she was certain he wouldn’t, couldn’t stop thrusting until he came.

  He needed release.

  Needed her.

  Just as she did him.

  Make me yours. Brand me with your cum.

  Despite the growing ache in her jaws, she slurped and suckled. A thick, dark blanket seemed to press against not just her but both of them. It grew heavier with every second and tortured breath she took, pushed her into a place she’d never known existed—a swirling river she now shared with this man.

  They’d swim together, explore as one.

  “Slave, slave, slave. Nothing but a slave. Piece of meat.”

  He barely whispered the words. Determined to bring him back to her, she held on. He rocked forward, forcing himself down her throat. Alarmed, she tried to turn her head to the side. He tightened his hold on her hair and bringing her back around.

  “Easy. Relax your whole body. Let it happen, just happen.”

  Lost in the sing-song, she slipped back into the swirling cave. The man who’d taken over responsibility for everything she’d become and was experiencing wanted her to do one thing.

  She’d show him what she was capable of and in the effort earn not just his respect but his—love.

  The word love flitted through her consciousness then was lost under the wondrous heated weight of her responses.

  Him. Her. One and the same. United in sex. Locked in a room designed for punishment and surrender.

  Yes, surrender, held tight in Master Damek’s grip. Unseeing, she took his still-growing arousal in through her skin and offered the same in return. He hadn’t touched her sex since bringing her in here today, but it made no difference. She was alive, lost in shared—shared—Hot, sweet cum flooded her mouth. She tried to swallow only to shake and shudder as a roaring climax gripped her. His pleasure no longer mattered. She became selfish and self-consumed. Fighting weakness, she pressed her legs together. Her sex muscles tightened and released, then tightened again, stayed that way.

  His ejaculate spilled from her mouth and ran down her cheeks. A little slid down her throat. Desperate to keep as much as possible, she sucked convulsively.

  He encouraged her efforts by pulling out and clamping his hand over her mouth. Still swallowing, she sagged, her forehead against his thighs. He stood his ground, stroking her hair and reminding her of the well-trained dog she was becoming.

  “Thank you, Master,” she managed. “Oh thank you.”

  “You came?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn stupid cunt.” He shoved her away, knocking her onto her side. “Stay there.

  Don’t goddamn move.”

  A day ago fear would have overwhelmed her, but her joints were too loose and her mind too empty.

  “Yes, Master,” she whispered.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Damek turned his back on the wall where a selection of whips, floggers, paddles, and other training instruments were kept. Because she was blindfolded, the slave couldn’t see what he’d selected which was as he intended.

  Looking down at her still-trembling body, he forced himself to replay his quick anger a few minutes ago. He’d allowed himself a rare break from his detachment while introducing the slave to the art of fellatio. He’d even told himself he des
erved it by damn given how long he’d forced himself to hold off plundering her holes. Climaxing had been great, better than usual because he’d had so much pent up sexual energy.

  Then suddenly he’d gone from seeing himself as a well-satisfied trainer of human flesh to—what?

  An explanation tapped at the corners of his consciousness, but he forced it aside. Damn it, no! He hadn’t briefly connected with this one. Just because they’d gone off at the same time hardly meant they were on the same wavelength.

  She was another in a long line of female bodies, nothing more.

  “Master?” She turned her head one direction and then the other. “What did I do to—I tried to make it good for you.”

  She had, damn her. Since going to work for Carnal, he’d gotten his rocks off countless times, but unless he’d missed something, every one of those pussies, mouths, and asses had been reluctant. Not a damn single bitch had given a damn about him as a human being.

  Until today.

  “You don’t have a name.” Damn you. “That was taken from you the moment you came under Carnal’s control. For the rest of your life the only thing you are is a sex slave.”

  “Master?” She tried to sit up only to fall back down. She lay on her side with her arms behind her and her legs stretched out as if she’d forgotten they were there. “Thank you.”

  Don’t say that! Damn you, don’t! His fingers tightened around a long, thin switch.

  “What?” he said sarcastically. “It was good for you?”

  Lifting her head slightly, she nodded. “You helped—you told me to relax and I was able to. After that everything felt right. Your cock in my mouth—I’ve never—it was as if we were no longer two people but one.”

  A single mind, one set of nerves, feeling the same things. God damn it, he didn’t want that! Just the thought frightened him.

  Hell no. Nothing scared him. He was in control, him, certainly not the alcoholic stepmother who’d taken her hate of the world out on him until he’d fled the inner city where they lived. He’d spent his fifteenth birthday sleeping in an abandoned car. Then he’d snuck into the back of a big rig and stayed there for three days and nights while the unsuspecting driver took him from one end of the country to the other.

  Day by day, theft by theft he’d survived. He’d been alone, but he hadn’t been lonely.

  Truth was, he didn’t understand the meaning of the word because he’d never been anything else.

  He hadn’t thought of the years before a wealthy cattle rancher hired him and gave him a place to sleep and food to eat for a long time. In addition to teaching him how to control livestock, the rancher had made no secret of the fact that he was screwing his two teenage stepdaughters. Seeing their fear of him, Damek had wondered how their mother hadn’t known.

  Maybe she had.

  Then the rancher had offered the girls to him and, damn him, he’d taken them. Horny as he’d been the first time, he hadn’t cared that the rancher held her down. After that—hell, after that the floodgates had opened. It had been damn good, at least for him—until the girls ran away. He’d left not long after but not until the rancher showed him the private Carnal Incorporated website. With the girls gone, the rancher was looking into buying himself a sex slave.

  “See if they’ll give you a job,” he’d said. “You’re a natural dom and Carnal must pay better than raising beef.” He’d even given Damek a contact number. After thinking it over and talking himself out of it a half dozen times, he’d called the number. The rest, as they say, was history.

  Life was to be lived in the now. His upbringing and what had gotten him to where he was today didn’t matter. That damn door was firmly locked and he’d thrown away the key.

  Something pressed against his gut, but he refused to acknowledge it. Right now was about one thing, reminding his current trainee that she was only a piece of meat.

  “So you think we bonded or something?” he asked sarcastically. “That things have changed between us.”

  She drew up her legs and awkwardly pushed herself into a kneeling position. Her long, thick hair was going to up her purchase price as was her athletic body and C breasts. Breasts that someone might decide would look better with rings driven through the nipples.

  A familiar heat pressed against his forehead at the thought. He’d never told the rancher this, but calf branding had given him with a hard-on. Something about calling the shots and inflicting pain brought out the beast in him. Working for Carnal kept the beast alive.

  “What are you thinking, Master?” She stared sightlessly in his direction. “Something has displeased you.”

  You have, that and that shit about us bonding.

  He dropped everything except the switch, making sure the other tools slapped the cement. Her mouth thinned and her shoulders heaved. Studying what he could see of her face, he snapped the air with the switch.

  “I’m sorry. Whatever I’ve done wrong, I’m sorry. Please tell me what it is. I’ll never do it again.”

  Not allowing himself time to think about what he was doing, he struck her hip, leaving a thin red line on her sunburned flesh.

  “Ah!” She violently shook her head as if trying to freeing herself from the blindfold.

  He waited until she gave up, then switched her in the same place. Crying out again, she knee-walked to the edge of the rubber mat. He turned her back around by striking her breasts.

  This time she scrambled a few feet before stopping. He took aim at her left nipple. She squealed, again looked up at nothing.

  “What just happened wasn’t for our mutual benefit.” He punctuated his edict by whipping her other nipple. “Don’t ever get that idea, ever!”

  Whimpering, she sank down and leaned forward in a futile attempt to protect her breasts. “I’m sorry Master.”

  Undoubtedly right now she regretted every word she’d said today, but he wasn’t done hammering home her message. He struck her middle this time but with less force. Hearing her cry out, he warned himself to stay in control—something he wasn’t always capable of.

  They had the training room to themselves, and even if someone was nearby, they couldn’t hear what was going on.

  Filled with the sense of power that had kept him at Carnal for nearly ten years—power he’d never had while running city streets to keep away from his stepmother—he stepped behind her and repeatedly lashed her shoulders. “Oh, Master, Master!”

  A familiar and unsettling blood rush to his brain hit full force, causing him to grip the switch with all his strength. The force pushed at him, demanding he beat her down. There was no one to stop him. Her life was in his hands.

  Sucking in air, he turned his back on her and stared at the stark walls. She’d stepped over a line she should have known not to, that’s all. He’d teach her the error of her ways, not destroy her.

  She wasn’t his beer-drinking witch of a stepmother.

  Still when he faced the blind, helpless creature crouched at his feet, the absolute sense of absolute power shook him. He’d teach her to fear him, only him. He didn’t give a damn whether her terror carried over to whoever bought her. This naturally submissive creature would lick his ass clean by the time he was done with her.

  “You’re an animal.” He gave weight to his words by whipping what he could reach of her ass. “My animal, understand.”

  “Ah, yes yes, Master!”

  “That’s right.” Striking her buttocks released some of the pressure that had built up in him. He put his mind to defusing it. “I want to see that ass of yours. Put your forehead on the floor, keep your knees bent, lift your arms, and stick up that fat flesh. Now.”

  As she shook and struggled to obey, he thought about removing the blindfold so he could study her face, but then she’d see his expression, and he wasn’t about to give anything away.

  “Whoever buys you is going to fuck your ass,” he said when she’d presented her buttocks as he’d commanded. He picked up a whip and pushed the handle past her p
uckered opening. She squealed. He could tell she wasn’t crying. Interesting.

  He stepped back so he could better study what she looked like with the quivering whip sticking out of her like a misplaced tail. A group of Carnal owners had banded together to explore their mutual interest in pony play. He’d attended several competitions and had been impressed by how thoroughly the slaves had been brought into their role as horses. Some of the bitches—or mares as they were called—were hitched to carriages or wagons while others demonstrated their racing skills. They’d worn bridles with wooden bits secured in their mouths, had on impossibly high heavy shoes, and sported nipple bells that tinkled and chimed. Some had been forced into tight corsets or modified chastity belts designed to keep horsehair tails in their asses.

  He’d laid a few wagers and held the reins while a pair of blondes pulled him around in a surrey, but he’d easily turned down several offers to pay him to transform slaves into ponies.

  His explanation had been simple. His expertise lay in training sex slaves, not beasts of burden.

  To his way of thinking, wasn’t always available pussy enough?

  With a mental shake, he brought himself back to the here and now. Yet even as he worked the whip handle a little deeper into her resisting ass, he was slightly relieved by his measure pace. If he was in danger of losing self-control, he would have jammed the sucker home.

  Satisfied with his handiwork, he walked in a slow circle around the trembling slave. She was waiting for him to hurt her again while doing her best to figure out how to prevent this moment from repeating itself.

  The answer was simple. If she wanted to avoid a whipping, she’d by damn better not ever again say they’d come together in something. She was property, he a man.

  “Repeat after me.” He slapped her right buttock with the flat of his hand. “No!” he shouted and slapped her again when she started to lift her head. “Don’t piss me off. You don’t ever want to do that, understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Having the words come out muffled helped him further separate himself from her. She wasn’t just property, she was meat, flesh, a cunt.