by Zoe Blake
The shifters looked at one another.
“Seriously,” the largest asked her. “That’s how you think this is going to go?”
Deliberately, she dropped her gaze and looked directly at his beige trouser-covered junk. Even covered, it was still sizeable. Still impressive. In fact, all of them were. Or maybe it only seemed so because, having already seen each in his utmost state of undress, it was now impossible not to remember how they all had looked. The size. The girth. The heavy hang and sway as they had stalked her across the cellar. The rise of gathering interest as each had drawn near. It was that particular tickle of memory that convinced Goldi, despite the chains and terrifying dungeon décor, she really didn’t have anything to be afraid of. She was pretty; they were horny. All she had to do was twist that to her advantage and she might still get out of this without anything worse than a couple awkward-to-explain love-bites.
And were-bears could be bitey. Everybody knew that.
A ribbon of liquid heat curled low in her belly. Just as deliberately, she let her gaze rake the larger male before finding and holding his dark stare. An echo of that unfurling warmth trickled down between her legs, becoming a phantom tongue-like lick that traveled the length of her pussy lips and brought that same flood of heat rising all the way back up to her face. Fighting hard to keep from blushing, she smacked the air with a sassy kiss and a smirk. “You can drop the pretense and let me go now.”
The were-bears exchanged half-amused, half-incredulous looks.
“We can drop the pretense,” the middle told his larger brother.
“And let her go,” the larger echoed back, arching a ‘get this chick’ eyebrow.
“Please, oh please, let me go first,” the smaller begged with a laugh. “I so want to break her ass in.”
“I’m being serious here,” Goldi said, losing some of her smirk. “You don’t have to keep me tied like this. And by ‘let me go’, I didn’t mean I’d leave right away. I mean, of course it was wrong of me to try to take your book, but it was just a book. Yes, you deserve a little something for your troubles.” She shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I’m happy to do whatever you want, for whoever goes first, second, or even third. I’m just saying you don’t need to tie me up while you do it.”
The middle turned back to the larger, thumbing at her. “We don’t have to tie her up while we do it.”
She frowned. “Stop making fun of me. I promise I’m not going to struggle or try to escape before you’re done.”
“Sweetheart.” Leaning in close to her, the shorter male grinned while she yanked at her wrist cuffs. “We tied you up because we like that sort of thing. You’re not going to struggle or run away, because there’s three of us and we’re not going to let you.”
“We put our pants back on because the furnace is forty years old,” the middle one added. “It’s going to take a little time for it to warm up down here, and shrinkage is not a were-bear’s best friend.”
“We left your clothes on,” the largest and grimmest of the shifters stated, folding thick arms across his burly chest, “because it’s more fun to rip them off if you’re awake.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” the smallest male said without apology. Venturing to a long table tucked up against the cellar wall, he selected a comb-sized object from amongst an assortment of hooks, probes, an electric wand with many interchangeable glass heads, and enough fake phalluses to satisfy even her old sorority house. At any other time, she’d have laughingly suggested half those dildos might have been compensating for something, except she’d already seen them naked. The smallest male held up the object for her to see, but it wasn’t until he clicked the switchblade and the knife snapped out to catch the light that she recognized it for what it was. “We’re not going to let you go anywhere. Not for a good long while.”
She’d have jerked back when he moved forward, but she’d forgotten about both the ankle and wrist restraints.
“Now, now,” the shorter cooed, hooking his fingers into the neckline of her black shirt. “None of that. I wouldn’t want to cut you.” His smile became all teeth. “At least not accidentally.”
The two larger males chuckled, wandering a short distance away to give him unobstructed room for movement. Arms folded across his chest, the largest cracked the smallest of smiles as he said, “Teach her, Bain.”
Goldi’s whole body startled, her eyes flying open wide as she stared first at the shorter—Bain?—and then back to his brothers. “Don’t tell me your names!” she cried, horrified. “Releasing Captives 101: Never give them information that can be used to identify you later on!”
“Oh, that’s cute,” Bain said, glancing back at his brothers. “She still thinks she’s going to be released.”
All that delicate, delicious unfurling heat of only mere moments suddenly twisted up tight in the pit of her gut. Her nipples swelled, budding against her will, adding layers of confusion to a situational onion already beginning to stink. The middle-sized male noticed. His gaze had dipped to her chest, something her wayward nipples loved. They stiffened that much more.
“Of course you’re going to let me go,” she heard herself say. “What do you mean, you’re not?”
Bain’s toothy grin broadened. Using his own switchblade, he tapped the tip of the knife’s blade against his own chest. “Bain,” he introduced himself, before gesturing to each of his brothers in turn. “Arsen’s there in the middle.”
Arsen waved, a two-fingered hello that seemed far more menacing now than it otherwise would have been.
“And that big, hairy bastard on the end,” Bain continued, pointing to the largest of the three, “that’s Kaden.”
The thinness of the big male’s smile did not alter. “I look forward to ‘meeting’ you very soon,” he rumbled.
Her belly quivered, sending a low thump of heat all the way down to her sex. Her breath caught, and then caught again when Bain stepped in closer. So close now that he filled her vision, blocking out everything but the breadth of his shoulders, the hard, flat plain of his chest, and the glint of light shining off the knife’s edge as he brought the blade up to her face.
“And you are…” He lightly caressed the sharpness of that blade across the quivering bow of her lips. “Goldilocks,” he finished, letting her feel the knife’s sharp tip on the very point of her chin.
“H-how do you know my name?” She trembled, scared in a way that her body didn’t seem to understand and wasn’t content to follow. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy, with the peaks of her nipples scraping themselves raw against the inner softness of a shirt that now abraded them. A steady pulse was keeping a slow beat of time at direct odds with the rapid pounding of her heart. She didn’t understand it, but though her skin crawled as the icy tip of his blade followed the curve of her jaw all the way down her throat before it dipped, sharp as hell, to play in the hollow of her collarbones, her pussy throbbed and burned and flowed.
“Were-bear prerogative,” Arsen said, circling around to her back. He was scenting the air. Could he smell the heated trickle slipping like phantom fingers along her female slit? Oh, hell!
“We’ve been investigating your burglaries for some time,” Kaden told her, sidestepping to get a better view as Bain’s blade traced from her throat, down over the neckline of her black shirt and tucked itself under the reinforced hem.
“We know about all nineteen of them,” Bain told her, his dark eyes as sharp and as glinting as the blade he held between her aching breasts. “You’ve been a bad, bad girl, Goldi.”
“I’ve pulled a hundred and thirty-seven burglaries, dickwad,” she told him. “Your investigative skills are for shit.”
She should have kept her mouth shut, but it was worth it just to see that startlement chase the smirk from Bain’s all too handsome mouth.
He retaliated with little more than a flick of his wrist, and the sharpness of his swtichblade snicked through her form-fitting neckline. She gasped, at first positive he’d cut her, and th
en gasped sharper still when he seized her shirt in both hands and in two powerful yanks, rent the fabric from neck to hem.
Goldi stared down at herself in shock, the pale of her skin now bisected by the bright red of her bra, both of which now stood in stark contrast with the torn black halves of her favorite go-to-work clothes.
“That was a thirty dollar shirt.” She managed to sound a little miffed about it, but inside her heart was racing and not because she was scared. Her pulse jumped, her gut tightened, and every nerve inside her thumped once sudden and hard when Kaden came at her. He caught her jaw in his massive hand, jerking her head up and holding her wide-eyed stare.
“Are you trying to be tough with us, Goldi?” he asked, his tone as soft as a lover, but his stare was so dark and hard as to make him anything but. “Because we don’t have to be this gentle with you. In fact, we won’t be this gentle with you for very much longer. Do you really want to hasten its end?”
“No, no. Please, take your time,” she assured him. “It’s just, if I should fall asleep, please wake me. I wouldn’t want to miss it if you ever get around to the good stuff.”
There was a moment of perfect silence, one that was broken by Arsen’s chuckle of amazed disbelief. “Bain,” he said.
Grim yet smiling, Bain caught the arms of her shirt, giving each a slit with his knife before he ripped it off her. Her chains clinked. Her body jerked and her nipples thrilled at the force with which he tugged her rag of a shirt completely off her. The back half caught where it remained tucked in the waist of her pants and Bain moved around behind her, giving Kaden full access to her front while he jerked it from her waistband. The larger male released her chin, shifting his grip on her now to the thin strip of fabric that bound the two cups of her bra together.
“There’s a clasp there—” she helpfully tried to say, but three quick snicks of Bain’s knife—once at her back and then at each shoulder strap—made the clasp as instantly irrelevant as her bra was now useless.
The lift… the separation… the straps that stayed where they were supposed to and never slid off at the most inopportune times.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a good bra?” she snapped, genuinely upset.
Or one that made her tits look that great?
“I’m sending you a bill in the mail, I swear to—Gah!” Goldi’s protests died in a sharp intake of breath when Arsen caught the back of her pants and yanked her right up onto her toes. Or at least, as far onto her toes as the spreader bar (still firmly latched to the eyebolt in the floor stones) would allow. The bonds caught her ankles, her hips felt the strain, but of the three—the chains, her body, and the cloth of her pants—only one had any yield when he pulled.
“Oh! My god!” Goldi squeaked as Arsen pulled up with all his significant might and her pants took the path of least resistance. “Camel toe! Ow Ow Ow!”
“Bain,” Arsen said mildly.
“My pleasure.” Taking his time, Bain slit her pants up the backs of her legs first, saving those last freeing snips from her bottom to the waistband for the very last. Her clit throbbed, white hot bursts of near agony as Arsen snaked the cut fabric through her legs and the slit of her aching sex.
Once the worst of the ache had subsided, Goldi glared at him over her shoulder. “You did that on—Ah!”
Her breath caught all over again, her inhaling squeak becoming a shout as Kaden slapped her right nipple. She jerked back, but her bonds only allowed so much retreat and Bain’s fist grabbing the back of her ponytail allowed even less. Hard and fast, one shot to the right nipple, three in rapid succession to the left, Kaden slapped each cringing globe from the underside up and never once missed the budding tips that were his target. The crispness of his discipline and her resulting shouts filled the cellar, which only amplified the shrillness of her gasps and whimpers once it stopped.
Blue eyes huge, she stared at him.
Kaden smiled almost gently. He took hold of her stinging right nipple, the budding tip of which thrilled at the pinch of his fingertips right before he twisted, bringing her squealing back onto her widely-splayed and scrambling tiptoes.
“Do we have your attention?” He rolled her nipple between cruel fingers until her back arched and her arms strained, pulling her up as far as the bolt in the floor would allow. Her toes scraped the stones. Her pussy pulsed and wept, a secret shame revealed in an instant when large masculine fingers slipped into her from behind, parting her woman’s furrow and freeing the muskiness of her scent to fill the air every bit as heavily as her cries had just a moment before. She breathed in the smell of her own arousal. So did Kaden, whose broad chest billowed as he inhaled the scent through his nose and whose dark eyes glittered and heated. Other than that, his expression did not change.
“Why, Goldi,” Bain mocked just behind her ear. “Feel how wet you are. Are you aroused by our treatment?”
A second set of fingers reached around her, gliding soft as an angel’s kiss across her hip and over her thigh. That whispered caress tickled her mons before dipping into her fleshy folds. She danced on scrambling toes, but he found her pulsing clit and she could no more escape that pinching capture than she could Kaden’s twist on her nipple.
“What is this?” Arsen purred. “I don’t think she’s taking us seriously.”
Goldi shivered as Bain’s fingers found their way into her. She could feel her own wetness, the slippery drips that he spread from her core onto her thighs with each teasing stroke before he shifted his grip and invaded. One finger sank into her, but unsatisfactorily so. He invaded only as deep as one knuckle. “Perhaps we should do something about that.”
“Perhaps we should,” Kaden agreed. The shock of pain that accompanied his sudden release of her nipples was enough to make her gasp all over again. That the sensation didn’t immediately become easier to bear was a horrible trick of her traitorous body. It reveled in the pressured pulse, the hurt drumming steady as a heartbeat in both swollen tips, but eventually that hurt did dull. What little relief she gained in those few seconds as he walked away from her did not last longer than the time it took him to select a leather-tipped crop from among the other implements displayed upon the wall.
“Oh, she likes that,” Bain said. One finger became two, both of which invaded much deeper than his knuckle. “Her greedy little pussy is shaking and twitching.”
“It’s called shuddering,” Goldi lied. “It’s a sign of revulsion.”
Arsen slapped her pussy, catching her clit and making her jump. Bain slapped her ass.
“Is that what that is?” he chuckled, dragging her head back through his grip on her ponytail. He fucked her with his other hand, the slap of his palm against the slipperiness of her aroused flesh obscenely loud. “Listen to all that terrible, terrible revulsion.”
She writhed and squirmed, rolling her hips, but still Arsen managed to catch her clit. His pinch stole the strength from her legs and her knees buckled. Were she not suspended from the ceiling, she would have fallen… or not, considering how the brothers held her—Bain’s fingers straining to burrow deeper, Arsen’s plucking at her clit, alternately pinching, rolling, and slapping. Those minor impacts sent jolts of renewed tension shooting through her legs, before the shaking again took command. And then there was Kaden. Cool, calm, his stare as dark as it was hungry when he came slowly back to her.
“Someone should have taught you a long time ago that it’s wrong to break into other people’s houses and take things that don’t belong to you,” he said, his fingers flexing on the handle of his braided crop.
Her tender nipples ached and strained, reaching for him in complete opposition to the cringing, clenching, dread-anxiety-exhilaration-filled rest of her. “You’re right,” she quavered. “I-I don’t know what I was thinking. B-Bad Goldi. Bad.”
Arsen and Bain both laughed soft, dark chuckles that made her clit swell and her pussy tremble. Everywhere their hands touched her, her flesh prickled in dreaded anticipation.
“Yes, we do.” The middle brother’s smile was far from reassuring as Arsen let go of her clit and slipped back behind her.
“It’s my turn to break her in,” Bain said again, the tenure of his tone dipping lustfully low and sparking in turn a flash flood of excitement that rolled through her in waves no sane woman in this position would have felt. They cut through her, as sharp as the tip of Bain’s blade, scraping raw every nerve in her quivering body.
“So do it,” Kaden ordered, and Goldi’s knees lost all their strength all over again. She’d have fallen if not for the chain attached to her cuffed wrists. Her legs shook, making the links rattle, but there was no escaping this, no slack for any kind of retreat, and no will to do more than flinch when Bain’s fingers withdrew from her. She felt their loss, though. In a way she knew she never should have. Then came the spark—that deep feminine thrill—that accompanied the hard press of his body as he folded himself around her, catching her hips in his hands and pulling the whole of her smaller body flush up against his. The engorged press of his cock, still contained by the fastenings of his trousers, burrowed against her buttocks.
