Naked Nights

by Vonna Harper

  “Yesterday we had a discussion about my expectation that you always be honest with me. I trust you remember it.”

  Nodding, she stared at his hands.

  “You made a halfway decent start but need a lot of improvement.” His hold tightened, causing shockwaves to race through her breasts. “What are you thinking right now?”

  Just say it. You know what he wants. “That I don’t want this to be happening.”

  “By this do you mean having your nipples pinched or would you prefer you’d never seen me?”

  That would be wonderful. She’d have her life back. But if she’d never met him, she wouldn’t know what it really meant to be alive.

  “My nipples hurt, Master. I want that to stop.”

  “Of course you do. I’m going to offer you a trade. I’ll release your boobs and you’ll shove more cream up your pussy.”

  It wasn’t really an offer, because this big man would do what he wanted.

  “Repeat after me,” he said after a moment. “I’ll fill my pussy with cream, Master, because that’s what you want, and if it pleases you to drill holes through my nipples and fill them with gold rings, I’ll stand there and let you do it.”

  Just like that she turned cold. She couldn’t stop herself from gripping his wrists and trying to pull his hands off her.

  “I can’t. I won’t!”

  He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this. You don’t have permission to touch me. That’s a hard and fast Carnal rule. I’m going to have to punish you.”

  For what, acting instinctively? Feeling trapped, she let go of his wrists. He squeezed her nipples, sending more fire through them. Then he released them. Relief lasted only until he took the pussy lubricant out of a cabinet.

  “Do it.” He handed the tube to her.

  She was more agile than him and maybe faster. If there was such a thing as fair between them, she might be able to get away, but he wouldn’t let that happen. At least he wasn’t punishing her. She’d take what pleasure she could. Careful not to look at him or the relentless camera, she unscrewed the lid and squeezed a dollop onto her fingers. Her fingers warmed as she leaned back. She had to place the chain over her shoulder to get to her pussy. Contributing to her abuse was demeaning but she had no choice.

  At first the sensation was pleasant, then it became sensual coupled with hot. By the time she’d placed three dollops inside herself, she was turned on. She squeezed her thighs together, only to be distracted when he yanked her off the counter via the chain. As he hauled her back into the bedroom, she heard a soft female cry and knew it came from the room on the other side of the bathroom. What was happening to the woman she’d seen yesterday?

  Master grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her backward into a corner. “You do not ever touch me unless I’ve given you permission, understand? There are consequences for both of us.”

  “I understand, Master.”

  “Too late.” He stared down at her until she felt like a bug about to be squashed. “I have no choice but to punish you.”

  Am I going to enjoy it?

  Chapter Thirteen

  All too soon, Marina stood under the chain that had kept her arms over her head yesterday. This time her arms were behind her, with straps around her wrists and elbows so her elbows nearly touched. She’d stupidly resisted being trussed up, but of course it hadn’t done any good. Master had secured the overhead chain to her wrists and drawn the chain upward, forcing her to lean over. Her breasts dangled and her hair kept getting in her eyes. The chain attached to her collar—how she hated thinking of the collar as hers—dangled to the floor. Maybe she should have reconciled herself to severe restraints, but she wasn’t. A single thought kept running through her—Master could do anything he wanted to her. Her tingling pussy wasn’t enough of a distraction.

  “I shouldn’t have to spell everything out to you.” He waved a gag in front of her. This one resembled a bridle with a wooden bit and straps designed to go around and over her head. “You should have known you have no right to lay a hand on me.”

  Nothing she said would change what was about to happen so she decided to fight in the only way she could. She wasn’t a whipped dog. No matter what happened, she refused to demean herself—somehow. Besides, she’d sensed something, humanity maybe, in him. “Your hands have been all over me. That’s what isn’t fair.”

  He clamped his hand around her neck. Even with the collar there, he cut off her ability to breathe.

  “Listen to me, slave. You will learn to obey. You have no choice. It doesn’t matter to me how long it takes” He paused. “In fact, your resistance turns me on.” He looked down at his crotch. “Something for you to think about.”

  The only thing she could put her mind to was getting oxygen into her lungs. As fear continued its inroad, she tried to back away, but the effort threatened to pull her shoulders out of their sockets. Defeated, she stopped resisting. Her sex remained hot, eager, the one good thing.

  She was lightheaded by the time he released her neck. He let her draw in a few breaths then forced the wooden bit against her teeth. When she opened her mouth, he shoved the bit in and fastened it. He patted her cheek.

  “The cry you heard a few minutes ago was the sound of another master educating his slave. I could allow you to express yourself in the same way, but I hate the sound of screaming. This way I can focus on making my lesson stick and not have to listen to you howl.”

  Why did he say words like howl? They only made her feel lost. She tried to reach him human to human, but he placed his hand over her eyes, blinding her.

  “I’m not stupid. I know what you’re trying. It isn’t going to work.”

  She was somewhat relieved when he allowed her to see again. However, waiting for him to begin whatever he intended to do to her gave her too much time to think. Was this the lesson he’d planned for today, or had her touching his wrists changed everything?

  “You’re property,” he told her. “Still human and yet not. You no longer have any rights. Your owner can use you any way he sees fit. He can pass you around to his friends, buy favors with your body, keep you silent for the rest of your life. Maybe you’ll never see sunlight again.”

  The last statement unhinged her more than the others had. For the first time since her capture, tears burned her eyes. His hands at his sides, he stared at her. She thought he might demand an explanation, which would necessitate removing the gag, but even though she sensed his confusion, he didn’t speak. Instead he wiped away a tear and deposited it on her breast.

  A sound distracted her. Looking up, she realized the man and woman who’d come into the bathroom yesterday had joined them. The man, who was balding and not particularly tall, wore jeans and no shirt. He was muscular, but nothing like her master. The woman—Marina refused to call her a slave—was still naked. Her legs were held apart via a spreader bar attached to her ankles. As a result, she waddled more than walked. Her hands were restrained under her chin as Master had done to her. She wasn’t gagged.

  “Thought we’d watch,” the other man said. “Where’s her butt plug? I thought you were going to fit her with one this morning.”

  “Change of plans,” Master said and went on to describe her crime to his fellow trainer.

  “She broke rule number one. You have no choice but to punish her. Nip resistance in the bud. Mind if I park this one somewhere and watch your technique?”

  Master frowned. “I realize I’m new at this, but I don’t appreciate being critiqued.”

  The man shrugged and rested a hand on the woman’s flank. “I’ve only been at this a year, so I remember what it was like having someone looking over my shoulder. Believe me, I’ll keep my mouth shut. The way I see it, there’s more than one way of getting things done.”

  Although Master still didn’t look convinced, he nodded. “How are things coming with your subject?”

  The man cupped the woman’s hairless mons. “She’s getting there. Up until a wee
k ago she occasionally fought me, but the conditioning I’ve been giving her has made an impact.”

  Marina didn’t want to think about what he meant by ‘conditioning’. Just seeing the woman’s lack of expression was enough. Would that be her before long? She’d stop caring what happened to her?

  Master returned to the dresser and selected a riding crop and short leash with a clip on either end. Even though the crop wasn’t as sturdy as the one she’d rarely used during races, it alarmed her. Master put it down and stepped behind her. Not being able to see him added to her fear, and she thought back to when she’d gone to see several mustangs that had been rounded up so they could be sold and trained. She’d debated buying one, but had been outbid. Some of the wild horses had been so scared she’d longed to go into the corral and reassure them.

  A pulling sensation at the back of her head told her Master had clipped the leash to the gag and was using it to lift her head. He attached the leash to something behind her, leaving her body arched and looking into the eyes of the woman standing opposite her. Sympathy flickered through the other prisoner.

  Thank you, Marina tried to tell her. This way I don’t feel so alone, and I know you’re alive.

  Master retrieved the crop and held it close to her face. “I have no doubt you know what this is and what it’s used for. In fact, I selected it with your former career in mind. You wielded it to encourage more speed out of a horse. My goal is to encourage obedience from you. It’ll make it easier in the long run.”

  Was everyone associated with this operation called Carnal crazy? How dare they think they could do these things to another human being? She stamped her foot because it was the only thing she could do. Sensation sparked in her pussy, distracting her anew.

  “Lots of defiance in her,” the man said. “When I started out I thought the most important thing was to extinguish rebellion. That was before I realized how much fun playing with spirit is.” He again grabbed his captive’s mons, shaking it this time. “Beats putting up with one who’s more dead than alive.”

  The other woman wasn’t dying, just dispirited. Marina vowed to never let that happen to her. She no longer thought in terms of life plans. Now everything revolved around getting through one day at a time.

  “That’s what I’m most concerned about.” Master slapped his palm with the crop. The faint thud started her shivering. “I need to focus on finding and keeping that middle ground.”

  “Some buyers don’t care whether there’s any sparks left.”

  Master slapped his palm again. “That’s sick.”

  Not just that, she wanted to scream. Everything Carnal existed for was demented.

  Master positioned himself in front of her and so close she felt his breath on her scalp. “Your body belongs to me. There’s no equality here and never will be.” He tapped her cheek with the crop. She tried to swing away but couldn’t. “It’s probably wasted effort telling you to think of my body as a temple, but by the time we finish today, I hope you’ll never impulsively touch another man. You certainly won’t try to stop him from doing what he wants with you. If you don’t get it—” He briefly closed his eyes. “There’s always tomorrow for another lesson.”

  She got it. Subservience was expected and enforced here. If he let her speak, she’d give him the apology he wanted. He didn’t need to string her up, and he certainly didn’t need to use that thing on her.

  “You’re naked,” he said unnecessarily. “You’ll remain naked as long as I see fit.” He cocked his arm and connected with her right breast. The crop stung, but she could handle it. She’d survive.

  And maybe gain his respect.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he continued. “That you’ve heard that before, so why am I boring you by repeating what you already know.” He slapped her other breast, a little harder this time. “Because the message that’s my responsibility to give hasn’t yet been drummed into you.” Another blow, this one landing on her right breast again. “For one thing, you remember having clothes. You keep thinking you’ll return to that state.”

  He started slapping her breasts in earnest. Even though she was pretty sure the crop wouldn’t break her skin and didn’t cause that much pain, the nonstop quality of her beating reinforced her helplessness. Master had all but immobilized her. There was nowhere she could go. He could, and might, keep this up for hours.

  She hissed into the bit the instant he shifted to her thighs. Now that he was no longer focusing on her breasts, he was putting more strength behind the blows. Desperate to do something, anything, to distract herself, she started lifting and lowering her legs like a horse excited for a race to begin. This wasn’t a race though. She’d already forgotten the start and had no idea when it would end, if it did. Her thighs burned. There was no way she could stop dancing in place—dancing to his tune.

  Feeling alive in ways she’d never imagined possible.

  He started moving to her right. She forced herself in the same direction a few inches. “Whoa up,” the other man said. “I don’t think you want her doing that.”

  “You’re right.”

  While running the crop down her side, Master grabbed the chain hanging from her collar. He drew the chain out and crouched. A clicking sound had her trying to see what he’d done but she was locked in place. He’d harnessed her to something on the floor, completely immobilizing her head.

  Not one day at a time but a single moment. Surviving heartbeat by heartbeat.

  “That’s more like it.” Master tapped the crop against her cheeks. “You look lovely.”

  Lovely? Even though she couldn’t see herself, she wouldn’t be surprised if she couldn’t recognize herself. Undoubtedly the cameras remained trained on her. Maybe whoever had told Carnal about her was watching. Laughing. High-fiving.

  Caught. In ways she’d never believed possible.

  Desired.

  Shocked by the thought, she struggled to examine it. Self-assured men somewhere wanted her.

  “Back to work,” Master said. “Hopefully you haven’t forgotten what this is about.”

  How can I, she longed to throw at him. He was teaching her a lesson, training her, separating her from self-confidence and independence.

  Giving her life new meaning.

  She didn’t have time to consider where that thought had come from because Master started striking her again. He repeatedly slapped her left thigh which was already on fire. After maybe a half dozen blows, he moved so she could barely glimpse him out of the corner of her eye. The crop started landing on the outside of her thigh, the blows random.

  “Submit,” he muttered. “Submit. If you remember nothing else, remember that.”

  Her arms ached. The bit made her feel less than human, and she could barely twitch, let alone move. Master kept after her, swat, swat, swat until she could no longer distinguish between where she hurt and where she didn’t. Like the other time she’d been gagged, she was drooling.

  He was behind her now, spanking her with what had been a tool of her trade. Occasionally he stroked the small of her back, and she relaxed when he did. The gentle touches never lasted. Every time the blows started up, she felt as if she was starting over, simply trying to survive.

  The other man had pulled his captive around so Marina had no choice but to stare at her. As Master subjected her to his definition of punishment, she saw what she knew was her expression mirrored in the silent woman’s eyes. The naked stranger no longer looked dull and drugged. She kept wincing. She also occasionally stared at Marina’s wildly jerking breasts. Was the other woman turned on?

  It seemed impossible, and yet there was something erotic about facing a woman who couldn’t close her legs, one whose glistening labia were on display. Studying denuded female sex distracted Marina from her punishment.

  Life at its most basic.

  “Dirty little cunt,” Master said softly as he worked his way around her right side. “What a sweaty, dirty bitch you are. Who’s going to want you th
e way you are now? You have no value. You’re dirt, a reject.”

  She wasn’t! Wealthy, dominant men wanted her.

  The crop repeatedly landed on her flank, just missing her hip bone. “Think about this. It’s possible you’ll be bought by some foreigner who’ll ship you overseas. Maybe he’ll park you in his harem. Maybe he’ll keep you in a basement, only bring you out when he owes someone a favor.”

  Marina realized Master was messing with her mind. The awful thing was it was working. She had no voice, no clothes and no way of protecting herself. Maybe Master intended to keep her in a collar. He might punish her every day, might restrain her at different times and in different ways so she’d never know what to expect when. Maybe he’d feed her nothing but dry toast, not let her shower, wipe her ass because she couldn’t do it herself.

  She guessed Master intended to strike her right side at least as many times as he had her left and that had been what, hundreds? No, not that many, but more than she could handle.

  On fire. Frighteningly sensitive in so many places. Drool dropping onto her breasts, and she was still doing that damnable unproductive dance.

  I’ll wait him out, she told herself during a moment of clarity. He was nearly back to where he’d started and must be nearly done. He no longer threw demeaning words at her. Maybe he’d said all he intended to and considered the lesson well-delivered.

  Then what?

  What if he was just getting started?

  Something landed on the floor near her. Master held up the hand that had been wielding the crop so she could see he no longer had it. If she could’ve spoken, she would have thanked him. He unhooked the leash attached to the back of her gag, then released the chain in front so she could move her head. Having back this small bit of freedom lifted her spirits. Her body was no longer under attack. Maybe that was why she noticed that moisture was tracking down the insides of the other woman’s legs.