Naked Nights

by Vonna Harper

  Instead, Tray and another man had invaded her world.

  The muscles in her arms and shoulders burned, prompting her to stop trying to lift her hands off her buttocks. She wasn’t going anywhere. Couldn’t even see.

  Judging by the cooling air on her exposed ass cheeks, she guessed the sun had set. The approaching night didn’t matter as much as what she’d learned at Tray’s hands.

  He could turn her on.

  Moaning, she tried to brush the sleep mask against the truck’s floor. Tray had done more than lock her in darkness—he’d played with her body, slid his fingers into her sex hole and forced arousal from her.

  She didn’t want to respond to his forceful touch, damn it! That was the last thing she wanted. If he knew how little it took to turn her on, he might use his knowledge against her.

  What did she mean might? Her body had given up its secrets to the big man who’d captured her.

  Even more unsettling, she remembered every touch.

  A crunching sound jerked her back to reality. The men were returning. She tried to curl up, only to stop and chide herself for attempting the impossible. If she was going to survive this, she had to make Tray believe she was immune to his sexual touches.

  Somehow.

  “That’s why we target loners,” Little Man said. “Bitches with a network of friends and family are more trouble than they’re worth.”

  “I get it,” Tray responded. “How many potential slaves does Carnal reject for that reason?”

  “Hmm. I can’t give you a percentage, but it’s considerable.”

  Something heavy thudded on the truck bed. She tried to imagine what of her belongings her captors had decided to take with them, but wasn’t sure it mattered. One thing she was certain of, they were intent on severing her ties with the world she knew.

  The only thing she didn’t know was why.

  Or did she?

  “What happens now?” Tray asked. “Does Carnal let those who nominated her know she’s been taken?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes not. I’m not sure how this is going to play out.”

  “They’ll figure it out before long.”

  Desperate for more pieces of the nightmare puzzle, she waited for the men to continue. Instead, a hand smacked her left ass cheek.

  “Get used to this, slave,” Little Man said. “It’s just a taste of what you’re going to experience.”

  “Hey.” Tray sounded angry. “What’d you do that for?”

  “Damn it, do I have to spell it out?” He slapped her again. “This gives her something to think about.”

  “I already have.” Someone, she guessed it was Tray, pulled up on her cuffs so she felt the strain throughout her upper body. “This is enough for now.”

  “You haven’t gotten to the punishment part. That’s where the real education takes place.”

  Tray kept her arms in the air. “Believe me, I understand. I just thought—”

  “How about we talk about it once we’re on our way?”

  In other words, they didn’t want her hearing. Tray let go of her wrists. Little Man slapped her a third time, then one of them unfastened the strap. Before she could straighten her leg, someone did it for her. She kicked out when one of her captors started to wrap the leather around her ankles. Her sad attempt at defiance earned her a series of stinging slaps on her buttocks, and she forced herself to stop squirming. She fought tears as her ankles were bound together.

  Why is this happening? She longed to ask but she didn’t want to know.

  One of them rolled her onto her side. Something that tasted like rubber was shoved against her teeth. Once more she fought but again lost the battle. The moment she reluctantly opened her mouth, a ball was rammed into it. The ball was fastened in place via straps that went around the back of her head.

  She couldn’t yell for help.

  Was completely at their mercy.

  She barely reacted when someone pulled her shorts down until they reached the rope around her ankle. This was someone else’s nightmare. It couldn’t be happening to her.

  The truck rocked, and when she smelled canvas, she surmised they’d stretched a tarp over the truck bed so no one would see her. A voiceless prisoner being taken where?

  She whimpered when the engine started, then forced herself to fall silent because otherwise her fear might have been her undoing. She was being driven away from the only place she’d been able to call her own. She’d be used for sexual purposes. The idea of being forced into prostitution made her sick to her stomach until she told herself she could probably escape.

  Before long they left the dirt driveway and turned onto the quiet county road. The truck had turned left, which meant the freeway might be her captors’ destination. They could go west or east or hook up with a north–south freeway. She’d gassed up this morning, which meant they could go hundreds of miles before having to stop. Unless she could spit out the gag or pound her feet against the truck bed, they’d be in and out of a gas station without anyone knowing about the trussed-up woman under the tarp.

  How long until dark? Probably less than a half hour. Her captors might decide to get something to eat but they’d carefully planned her capture, which meant they wouldn’t do anything that put them at risk. They might give her something to drink or let her go to the bathroom, but she couldn’t imagine them caring whether she got hungry.

  Where were they taking her, and what did they plan to do with her once they reached their destination?

  How long before anyone realized she was missing? As a self-employed jockey without an agent, she was free to ride for any owner who approached her. This year she’d been able to pick and choose and, although she’d committed herself for the entire racing season, she wasn’t sure the owners would come looking for her. They might simply complain about how unreliable she’d become and select a replacement. She had friends, of course, but no one she considered particularly close. Currently, there was no man in her life.

  She’d long been aware of her solitary nature and had occasionally tried to be more outgoing, but it hadn’t been a good fit. Until his death, her father had been her best friend. She didn’t know how to replace him, or if she wanted to.

  Now, when it was too late, she realized that in some respects she’d set herself up for what had happened.

  The tarp started flapping and the tires made a whining sound. She’d been so lost in thought that she could only guess they were heading west. Determined to remain in the here and now, she drew mental images of where she figured they were. Then the truck slowed and angled to the right. Had they gotten off the freeway? Maybe they’d already reached the north-south thoroughfare. The tires started their high-pitched whine again and the tarp sounded as if the wind was attacking it. All she knew for sure was that they were putting her world behind her. She was being spirited away to where?

  * * * *

  Marina couldn’t say how long they’d been traveling when the truck stopped. Maybe an hour, maybe longer. Much as she’d loathed being taken where she didn’t want to go, believing they’d reached their destination was even more unnerving. Fresh air entered her nostrils, making her guess the tarp had been removed or at least drawn back. Even though the neck rope was loose enough for her to turn over, she didn’t try because that would’ve put too much weight on her arms. Besides, she couldn’t see anything.

  “That worked slick,” Little Man said. “The package has barely moved. Let’s get her transferred. You want to take her to pee or—”

  “She’s my responsibility. I’ll handle it.”

  The tightness around her ankles ended. She tried to separate her legs, but her shorts stopped her. Even though she thought she’d prepared for it, she shivered when one of the men tugged them off. She was still trying to make her peace with half nudity when she realized he was doing something to the rope around her neck. As he hoisted her into a sitting position, she was caught between relief at this small amount of freedom and the feel of rope against
the back of her neck and trailing between her breasts.

  “Let’s go.” Tray grabbed her ankles and dragged her along the truck bed toward him. Despite her efforts, she lost her balance and banged the back of her head. He continued to haul her until her legs dangled over the tailgate.

  “All right, slave, sit up.”

  Slave? Surely he didn’t mean—

  “Did you hear me?” He slapped her thighs. “Sit up.”

  As she reluctantly obeyed him, she wondered at the change in his attitude. Earlier he’d treated her as if she meant something to him, while now it was as if she was an animal that had displeased him. Maybe Little Man had lectured Tray on how to treat a—oh, God, a slave.

  Tray took hold of her upper arms and pulled her up and forward. Afraid she’d fall, she scooted to the end of the tailgate and reached out with her toes. One moment she was in space, the next her feet landed on gravel. With Tray hauling on her right arm, she had no choice but to try to follow him. The gravel cut into her feet.

  “Useless bitch,” he muttered.

  With that, he lifted her and threw her over his shoulder. She could have tried kicking—if she’d had a death wish. As he effortlessly carried her, she fought not to choke on the realization that she was at his mercy. He could carry her for hours, set her down, and walk away, leave her blind, silent, disoriented, and without use of her arms. They weren’t in a jungle but might as well have been.

  She had to get in his good graces, somehow.

  Unless she couldn’t force herself to.

  A familiar and disgusting smell assaulted her. She surmised they were near an outhouse. A door squeaked open, and he stood her up. She shuddered at the feel of the public facility’s floor under her bare feet and didn’t dare move for fear she’d bump into the toilet seat. When Tray turned her around, despite what she’d warned herself about angering her captor, she couldn’t help but resist. He grumbled something she couldn’t make out and pushed her back. Her naked ass landed on hard plastic.

  “Get it done,” he ordered.

  Tray was watching her, listening for the sound of urine. Hard as it was to focus on her bladder, she had no choice if she didn’t want to risk wetting herself later. She finished what he’d brought her in here to accomplish, then tried to squeeze more liquid out of herself. To her disgust, he pushed down on the back of her head until she was leaning way over and, reaching past her ass cheeks, wiped her.

  His responsibility.

  His slave.

  She was so horrified by what had just happened that she barely paid attention as he hauled her to her feet and dragged her back outside. She nearly lost her balance stepping down. She collided with him, and he roughly jerked her upright. The outhouse door clanged shut. A moment later she heard it squeak open again. As awareness of the space around her increased, she realized he’d left her alone so he could use the facilities. If only she could see!

  But she couldn’t because that was what her captor wanted.

  It was cooler than it had been when they’d taken her from her house. She had no idea where they were, and only the faintest hint of their plans for her.

  “Good.” His comment was accompanied by the door’s complaints. “You at least know enough to stay where you belong.”

  He effortlessly hoisted her back onto his shoulder, and because it didn’t make any difference, she didn’t attempt to hold her head up. She reluctantly likened herself to a just-shot deer on its way to being gutted.

  A warm hand rested on her naked buttocks and a broad finger prodded between her ass cheeks. Holding her breath, she waited to see what he’d subject her to, but instead of claiming her pussy like before, he rested his finger against her bung hole. He made no attempt to push past the puckered opening, but he could if he wanted to.

  What would Tray do to her? Subject her to?

  Maybe it was not having use of her hands and being locked in silent darkness, but an image formed in her mind. She lay naked and spread-eagled on Tray’s bed. Her wrists were chained to the metal headboard while more chains held her ankles where Tray had placed them. She was gagged, but the blindfold had been removed so she saw him enter the room.

  This man who’d laid claim to her body walked over to the bed and stood looking down at her. He was fully clothed but had unzipped his fly so his cock jutted out from his remarkable physique. He held a dildo in one hand, nipple clamps in the other.

  “Today’s toys, slave. Time to make you scream.”

  “I’ve transferred everything,” Little Man said. The mental image shattered. “And I rubbed down everything we touched. Soon as I take a piss, we can take off.”

  “No rush,” Tray said. “I can handle her.”

  Little Man chuckled. “Yeah, you sure can.”

  At the crunching sound, she surmised Little Man was walking away. By transferring everything, did he mean they’d be getting into a different vehicle?

  Instead of putting her down, Tray started rubbing her buttocks. The contact was gentle, almost reassuring. As he ran his finger between her cheeks and lightly scratched her ass hole, she stayed relaxed. It was as if her body belonged to someone else. She was here simply to experience knowing hands. This powerful man wanted her. She’d become important to him. And because she had, he wouldn’t hurt her.

  The only thing he’d do was take away her will.

  Alarmed by how easily she’d surrendered self-determination, she tightened her butt cheeks.

  He pulled out and slapped her ass. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easy.” He slapped her repeatedly while she squirmed uselessly. “Bad decision on your part. Corrective action on mine, got it?”

  Embarrassed by the spanking he was subjecting her to, she tried to apologize but either he couldn’t understand what she was saying or he chose to ignore her. Finally he laid her on carpeting. Despite her stinging buttocks, she chanced stretching her legs. Judging by the metal her feet encountered, she guessed she was in the back of a SUV. This had been planned! Part of their scheme for her. Being helpless in her own truck had been bad enough, but this was even worse. Screaming into the gag, she started thrashing.

  “What the hell?” Tray said. “Haven’t you learned your lesson?”

  Short Man chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. The bitches always panic. Tie her down before she hurts herself.”

  The SUV sagged under Tray’s weight as he climbed in next to her. He forced her onto her back and straddled her. Unable to stop herself, she kept trying to buck him off her. Her arms were being smashed but it didn’t matter. She’d had it, couldn’t take any more.

  “Here,” Short Man said. “You can let her fight later, but now isn’t the time.”

  Tray again looped the strap around her ankles. However, instead of securing her legs next to each other like before, he placed one leg over the other before cinching the strap tight. Her pussy was caught, clamped, her sex lips pressing against each other. She gasped and tried to convince herself to stop struggling.

  “Here’s this,” Little Man said. “You might want to use it.”

  “Hmm. Yeah, I think I do.”

  More leather circled her thighs. She cursed and fought to wiggle out from under Tray, but he easily tightened that strap. Resisting had only increased her bondage.

  Tray lifted off her and tried to run the side of his hand between her legs near her crotch. “That did the job. I just wish I’d plugged her first so she’d have that to think about.”

  “Next time. She’ll get the message.”

  No, she wouldn’t! Just because he’d trapped her sex was no reason for—

  Tray rolled her onto her belly and swatted her buttocks, distracting her from the lie she’d been trying to convince herself of. As he exited the back of the SUV she tried to tell herself that at least he hadn’t retied the neck rope, but it didn’t matter.

  They had her.

  Chapter Five

  Tray had never needed eight hours of sleep, but he was dragging by the time the private
Carnal plane landed at the seaside airstrip shortly after daylight. He and Robert had each driven during the three hours it had taken to get to where the plane had been waiting. After transferring their captive to the plane, they’d had to cool their heels for a couple more hours so they could take off in the middle of the night. Even though their seats reclined, he hadn’t been able to sleep because he kept thinking about the half-naked, trussed-up package on the floor behind him. He’d done it. Pulled off his first capture.

  Done something he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about.

  Robert had played a vital role in getting her here, and his lecture about how captives should be seen as possessions and not human beings had reminded Tray of everything he’d been told during his indoctrination. If not for Robert, he might still be deluding himself into thinking this was destiny.

  He and Marina Stenson hadn’t been brought together for the perfect master–slave relationship. She wasn’t a natural submissive any more than he’d been born with a trainer’s whip in his hand. Truth was, she’d caught the negative attention of the wrong people and he’d been chosen to turn her into his first sex slave. He’d train her. She’d be sold. He’d move onto his next conquest.

  “I’m starving,” Robert said when the plane stopped moving. “What if we grab something to eat while they get her settled in?”

  His stomach rumbled at the thought of breakfast, but watching Marina try to wrap her mind around what was happening held more appeal. “Go,” he said. “I’m staying here.”

  Robert laughed. “I figured you’d say that. I was once where you are now, hot and horny and barely able to wait to get started. Just don’t forget she’s a valuable piece of merchandize, nothing else.”

  Tray didn’t bother responding. Soon after Robert took off, two men wearing jeans and collared shirts with the initials CI in red on them climbed in. They acknowledged Tray with a nod then entered the cargo area. They grabbed Marina by her shoulders and feet, and she started struggling. He came too close to telling them not to hurt her before remembering Robert’s warning about her being merchandize. They hauled her over to the exit and the larger man started down the stairs. The other pushed Marina out feet first. The one on the ground grabbed the strap around her ankles and used his handhold to guide her down. If the man still in the plane hadn’t had hold of her shoulders, she would have tumbled out.