Taboo Desires: Dirty Forbidden Secrets Bundle (The Complete Miranda Cougar Collection)

by Miranda Cougar

  One shoulder drops as another lifts high. Then a hand holding up my hip gives way while thin fingers clutching my ankles turn to the side. I am being lowered to the ground. Softly, the rubber soles of my shoes make contact with the thick grassy earth. Strong fingers grasp my wrists.

  My zombie captors’ heads snap to the right with one quick movement. I watch tight-lipped as a bone-faced corpse stumbles toward us. The pitifully tiny thing has escaped her holding pen and is wandering the hillside. By the decayed looks of her, she was probably one of the first hucows to lose her teeth and turn undead.

  Her toothless jaws open and close and her hollow eyes betray her ravenous hunger. She alone is the source of the stomach-turning odor blanketing the hillside. Her flesh is so rotten it hangs from her body in loose ropes. She only has a few matted strings of long brown hair left.

  My zombie captors remain silent, instead choosing to hold up their hands to her in a stop-sign signal. She doesn’t acknowledge the gesture or even pause her tottering toward us. There is nothing left of her consciousness. She can’t even hear the zombie hive mind any longer. She is dangerous and must be put down. I know what will happen next. I want to turn away. But, I force myself to bear witness to the action the zombies surrounding me take.

  “Laurie,” they all speak in calm unison. Then one strikingly beautiful redhead pulls a dagger from her waist harness while all the zombies, except the two holding my wrists, rush up to Laurie as a group. The knife bearing leader pierces the thin walking corpse in one sunken eye, and her gray, lifeless body tumbles to the green earth. An innocent has fallen, I remind myself. Laurie was an innocent young victim of some greedy man’s quest for immortality.

  I clench my eyelids shut and inhale the cool evening air promising myself the tears stinging my eyes aren’t wasted. The zombie transformation has corrupted the minds of every one of the women in the zombie horde, even Arissa, and the queen. They are all driven to constantly feed off the bodies of men and transform new women into zombie hucows, continuing the brutal cycle of lost innocence and ruined lives.

  Both Hamma and I hold the cure from zombieism inside our bodies. Before we left the farm to rescue Flavius and Magnus, we both swallowed the butterscotch candies that will force our bodies to lactate and fill our breasts full of the milky cure. My wish is that Hamma hasn’t truly betrayed me by turning me over to these zombies. I can only hope that her seeming betrayal was simply a ruse to get us inside the zombie compound where we can deliver the cure to the women who need it desperately.

  ***

  “Show! Show! Show! Show!” The roaring chants bounce off the gray metal walls and echo inside my head. I walk directly behind Hamma, stepping one foot at a time down the long flight of stairs leading into the zombie city. Each strong woman standing at my side holds onto my wrists securely, making sure I don’t fall and injure myself or try to turn around and run away.

  The entrance to the zombie city is as dark and foreboding as I remember. Walking down this stairwell, I feel like I’m being lowered into a tall, thin metal box. I think the entire underground city used to be a bunker of some type. A secret refuge built to house noble families in case of emergency. And I’m certain this metal entryway was designed to be cramped and difficult to traverse to prevent intruders from easily attacking the occupants of this underground sanctuary.

  We are now moving into a wide, short-ceilinged concrete room. No bright rays of golden sunshine here. Only gray concrete walls lit by the harsh glow of green, yellow, red and purple neon lights. This unnatural gloom must be what it feels like to walk through the human Neon City. Metal, concrete, and darkness contrasts with harsh light. I imagine the only difference between this place and the human city is the foggy blue glow of the eyes of my zombie jailers.

  Brilliant white light blinds my squinting eyes. I blink until my vision adjusts. My zombie captors fully open the thick metal doors in front of us and grant me entrance into what I suppose was once a grand ballroom meant to house lavish parties for the country’s elite. Now it’s the massive room where the zombie queen holds court. The air inside this grand room has a fresh, faintly floral scent. There are only beautiful, well-maintained zombies inside here. The rotting horror shows are all kept outside in their barn-like pens.

  Arissa, my cousin and the zombie queen’s second in the command stands just inside the tall doors in expectation of my arrival. She’s the only zombie other than the queen who still has her full mental faculties. Her consciousness is not a part of the zombie hive mind. Instead, she has the ability to control the hive mind, like the queen does. And like I also did, before Hamma had me captured one morning while I was outside of these city walls eating my grassy breakfast on one of the area’s lush green meadows.

  By kidnapping me, Hamma saved me from the life Arissa leads. She saved me from being compelled to do horrific things to innocent people. If I hadn’t been rescued, I’m certain I’d still be a ravenous predator just like Arissa still is. I was reborn the day Hamma’s scientist friends captured me and forcibly transformed me from a zombie back into a human three years ago. I hope the cure hidden inside my full milky breasts can rescue Arissa from this life of cruelty as well.

  “Take her into the holding room and bind one of her hands to her husband,” Arissa orders the zombies who are still securely holding onto my wrists. They tug me sharply to the side before abruptly stopping and turning us around to face Arissa again. She speaks once more, but I can barely make out her words because of the roaring sound of the crowd of thousands of zombies shouting “Show! Show! Show!” in unison. Arissa holds up one hand in a stop-sign signal and the shouting crowd quiets immediately. Even the zombies who cannot see her gesture silence themselves. Her control over the every member of the hive mind is that powerful.

  “The queen wants Bella’s mind bound to her husband and his mate. She wants them all to become a single-minded herd. Our runaway sister will be easier to control that way.”

  I don’t know why Arissa bothers to explain herself. The zombies in the horde require no explanation of intent. They will do whatever she orders without question. Her words must be for me. She must want me to know what the queen has planned for me. She’s trying to help me. She still remembers me. She’s still my cousin. My heart burns with hope at the thought that my last living relative is still alive inside that zombie body of hers. If she’s still in there, she can be rescued as I was.

  “Come to think of it, don’t tie her hand to her husband,” Arissa smirks. “Unbind her husband’s mate and bring both him and Bella up to the stage. Your sisters want a show, and I intend to give them one.”

  My heart burns hotter, but no longer with hope. A moment ago when she explained the queen’s plans, I thought Arissa was trying to rescue me. But, that was a foolish and incorrect assumption. My cousin wasn’t trying to save me. She was simply playing a cruel game with my emotions. She was toying with me the way a cat does with its prey before it spears it with its claws then tears the unlucky animal apart.

  She explained the queen’s plan because she wants me to experience the suffering of knowing what my ultimate fate will be. I am to become food for her majesty. I am to become part of a mindless herd. But first, I am to be humiliated by putting on a show with Magnus for the entertainment of entire zombie horde.

  “Please, Arissa, don’t do this,” I beg knowing full well what sort of show these zombies want to see.

  “Either you put on a show with Magnus, or your husband does. It’s your choice.” A devious smile decorates my cousin’s porcelain face as she turns her full mane of golden blonde hair to me and begins her stride toward the ballroom stage. “Follow me, Hamma,” Arissa waves one hand, her jovial tone turning serious. “You’ve earned your audience with our queen.”

  My zombie captors march me across the enormous hall. With every unwilling step forward, my core clenches involuntarily. Fresh arousal drips out of my body coating my inner thighs in preparation of what I know is to come. I consider my choice.
I can either submit to being penetrated by my husband’s best friend, or I can watch as Flavius submits to being pounded by the beast.

  Chapter 19

  Daisy

  “You’d better pray she’s still breathing.”

  Hot blood rushes to my face, and my entire body shakes as my female captor smacks her brother on the arm.

  “Relax, sis. She’s still alive. Dead women don’t snore.”

  I exhale a short snort for effect to prove I’m alive, but keep my eyes softly shut and allow my body to hang limply atop my captor’s muscular frame. I pretend to still be unconscious. Although, I’ve been awake and draped over my kidnapper’s broad shoulder for several minutes now. My wrists and ankles are bound together. My injured fingers throb from the pressure my wrist restraints place on the already sore joints. I won’t be fighting my way out of these restraints. They’re bound too tightly.

  Thin fingers fist my hair and pull my head upright. I allow my eyes to tug half open and a river of drool to pour from my sloppily open mouth.

  “She may still be alive, but she’s so fucking drugged she looks brain dead. If the zombie queen doesn't pay us for her, I’m going to strangle you—”

  “Stop acting like this is all my fault—”

  “It is your fault. I never gave you permission to drug her—”

  “Slapping her ass with that quick acting sedative was the only way she was going to calm down enough for us to unstrap her from her milking machine and drag her out of the farmhouse. Do you think we could have just carried her off the farm kicking and screaming and no one would have stopped us?”

  “We wouldn’t have had to carry her off at all if you had bothered to follow our plan. The plan we’ve been working to perfect for over a year, I might add. When you blew up the farm gates, you put our scheme to kidnap the hucow in jeopardy—”

  “Don’t call her that. Her name is Laura. And we didn’t kidnap her. We liberated her from her enslavement on the farm. The farmer kept her locked in that barn and milked her every day as an animal. Only, she’s not an animal. Laura’s a beautiful human being, and she deserves better than to be used like that. POWER TO THE HUMAN RESISTANCE!”

  “You’re in love with the cash cow. How idiotic!”

  A rush of wind flies past my exposed ass. My female kidnapper strikes her brother on the shoulder this time. It feels as through her fist lands mere millimeters shy of punching me in the hip. My body shakes then slips downward from the force of her punch on the young hubull’s arm. But, with both speed and skill, the brawny man catches me and pulls my body back up to rest securely on his shoulder again.

  “I’m not in love. I simply believe someone as wonderful as Laura deserves to live free of the oppression of the farming system. She’s already had such a hard life. She should get to live out the rest of her years in freedom. …Did you know she grew up an orphan?”

  “An orphan…how sad. Where did you read that? No, don’t tell me. I’ll bet it was in one of your hucow fanboy magazines.”

  “Hucow Celebrity Monthly is an informative journal. You should read it some time. You’d learn a lot about the oppressive farming system and how the human resistance is battling to liberate us all from tyranny.”

  “Damn it, little brother. You’ve let those human resistance nut jobs fuck up your head. You got a lot of innocent people killed back on the farm. Not everyone who perished in your impromptu explosions was an elitist, you know. You killed ponyboys and humans too. You killed our friends. And I’m not sure I can ever fully forgive you for it.”

  “You don’t know anything.” My body shakes again as the hubull holding me laughs. “There was nothing impromptu about those bombs I set. Everything was organized by the zombie queen’s assistant, Arissa. She told me exactly where and when to place the explosives. She’s a true believer in the cause of human liberation.”

  “You poor fool!” The terror in Sarah’s voice echoes over the hillside. I force my eyes open in time to see her snatch her brother’s backpack off his other shoulder and race down the hill with it. She bolts in the opposite direction of where she and her brother had been carrying me off to.

  “Sarah! Sarah!” The young hubull cries out, but his sister gives him no reply. She just keeps running away as quickly as her long legs will carry her, which is remarkably fast.

  Chapter 20

  Daisy

  My state of alertness fluctuates considerably as the young, burly hubull continues carrying me toward the zombie compound. My captor stumbles over the uneven earth, and I am nearly thrown to the ground. I am grateful when he catches me before my head strikes a rock jutting up from the earth.

  “Sorry, Laura,” he whispers then cups the back of my head with one hand. He lifts my face to his, kissing the side of my cheek before hoisting me over his shoulder again. The unexpected violence of his swift movement makes fiery blood rush into my already burning hot cheeks.

  I pop my eyes open, feeling a rush of nervous energy. I want to say we’ve been traveling for hours. But in reality, I know it’s been considerably less time than that. I can still see a few rays of sunlight flickering across my captor’s shiny cowboy boots. My heart flutters, grateful the sun hasn’t fallen completely from the sky, yet. I fear the danger the coming night will bring.

  As we climb closer to the zombie compound, part of me expects to witness thousands of rotting corpses roaming the expansive green hillside. I inhale deeply trying to get a sense of my surroundings. I smell a faint whiff of foulness in the air mixed with a fresh floral scent. The mildly offensive odor means zombies are nearby, but I can’t see them.

  Nothing but my captor’s tight ass, his cowboy boots and the green grass underfoot fill my vision. Tightening my abdomen, I use all my strength to arch my back and lift my chin trying to take in more of the landscape. Then exhausted, I lower my head and torso again, straining my muscles to fall as gently as possible against my kidnapper’s upper back. My shoulders ache from the odd position I fall in. And I allow a faint groan to escape my lips when not even the fabled bobcats and coyotes that are known to hunt in this area appear in my view.

  A full body image of Magnus’ chiseled chest, rock hard abs and powerful arms and legs pops in front of my wide-open eyes. Then I see the farmer’s face. Finally, my best friend Bella’s statuesque figure comes into view. I blink repeatedly, but the images don’t clear. Sarah was right to scold her brother for drugging me so severely. The sedatives coursing through my body have me so off-kilter, I’m hallucinating.

  As I struggle to raise my head and clear my vision, I watch the three translucent silhouettes bounce up and down in the short green grass below me. Part of me wants to flatten out my palms and push the sight of them far far away. But, a deeper place inside me wants to scoop them up in my arms, hold them close to my bosom, and never allow them to leave.

  I stare at the ghostly images floating along the ground, and a mix of fear, sexual desire and genuine heartfelt love overcomes my mental defenses. My heart speaks to me openly in my drugged half-conscious state.

  Why do you let your obsession with celebrity and personal importance separate you from your loved ones?

  I ignore the foreign sounding wording of the question and answer honestly. I speak freely secure in the knowledge that no one can hear my answer but me. I’m only speaking to my subconscious mind, after all.

  Because I’m angry. I’ve been angry with each of them for so long for not loving me.

  Oh, okay, my heart answers and I chuckle at the brevity of its response.

  I came to the farm specifically to meet the farmer because I had such a huge crush on him. But, he never even acknowledged my existence until the day I became the last known hucow and a celebrity. When I was just one of the hundred dairy producers on his farm I was too lowly to be noticed. But, the day I became famous, suddenly he desired me.

  Are you sure of that? Might there have been another reason the farmer didn’t claim you sooner?

  Nope. I respond, ce
rtain of the correctness of my answer. My heart releases a sighing sound, which I find odd.

  In order to claim your body, the farmer had to rip you from the arms of your beloved…who just happens to be his best friend. Isn’t that true?

  Yes, I suppose that is true, I admit reluctantly.

  My beloved. My heart has named Magnus my beloved, and I can’t find any reason to argue with the title. I do still love the man intensely…despite everything.

  Let’s talk about my beloved, I snark, my entire body stiffening with rage.

  The first man to share my bed and own my heart allowed me to be ripped away from him. The man gave me up without any resistance. He’s far more powerfully built than the farmer. Hands down, he would have won the battle for the right to claim me, but he chose not to fight for me. He chose to abandon me instead.

  But—my heart intercedes.

  Don’t interrupt me, I rage.

  Magnus could have challenged the farmer’s right to claim my body, but instead he just let his best friend have me. Being abandoned made me feel unlovable and unworthy. I felt like a toy the highborn hubull had finished playing with and decided to share with his friend. The man I loved abandoned me to the cruel whims of the farmer and Bella—

  Cruel whims? My heart repeats my words then begins to sob. While I recognize that the mean taunts the farmer and Bella shouted at me during my breeding had cut into my pride deeply and wounded my heart, it feels unexpected and painful to listen to my tender organ crying.

  It will be okay. We’ll heal, I speak softly to my weeping heart.