Whiplash!
by Candace Smith
Copyright 2010 Candace Smith
Published by Strict Publishing International
Prologue
Carlton turned in his saddle and held up his hand. His steely gray eyes scanned the line of tired naked slaves leashed to the back of the horses, and he was pleased with selection he was transporting for trade. This would be the final break on the four-day trek across the mountains to the lodge. The two riders dismounted and dropped the reins of their well trained horses, and the equally well trained slaves immediately knelt in position.
Carlton walked behind his horse and untied the lead attached to a naked girl’s collar, and he pulled her over to the shade of a pine. When he sat on the soft forest floor, she obediently knelt in front of him with her thighs spread, her small breasts raised, and her eyes lowered so she was staring at the pine needles covering the ground. “Get on with it, girl.” Amber’s fingers barely quivered as she reached for his zipper to release his strained cock, but the cowboy knew the thought of the girl’s unemotional service to him was not what had caused his rod to thicken. It was the excitement of the upcoming activities, and the new slaves he would be acquiring once they reached the lodge at the summit.
Carlton glanced down at his lap, which was now hidden behind a sheet of long auburn hair. The girl irritated him, and his strong fists wound through her soft locks so he could push his cock further down her throat. The warm mouth tightened slightly, and she began to hasten the bobbing motion, complete with the stroking of her tongue as Carlton plunged far past the gagging reflex, that had unfortunately stopped protesting his intrusion months ago.
The pretty brunette had never shown the fearful responses Carlton desired. Within a week of her training she retreated into shocked silence, and when she came out of the trance, she responded with docile compliance. There had never been an arousing amount of fear or protest to the many punishments or tortures the girl had been subjected to over the past year, and Carlton thought of her as nothing more than an accepting receptacle for whatever atrocities he or the other Masters perpetrated on her.
Carlton lifted his hips, wrenching the girl’s head downward, as his cum jerked its way into her mouth. When his withering member left her lips, she licked him clean with mechanical efficiency and folded him back behind the zipper of his jeans. Until he gave her another order, she would remain kneeling between his thighs and staring silently at his crotch, with tears filling her eyes.
The Master had been studying the picture of a pretty blonde girl for over a month, and Amber had anxiously tried to pull his attention back to her, having no idea what she was doing wrong. Her fear of the whip and other devices he used on her, kept her compliant and following every rule he had ingrained into her. She knew he had pictures of all of the new acquisitions, but he kept returning his attention to the blonde. The look in his gray eyes would fill with a smoky haze, and she was certain he was going to keep the girl as his new companion. It was not difficult for Amber to remember when she was brought up the mountain, and had replaced her own predecessor. The girl had been traded to one of the lesser clans, and Amber knew this was the same fate she would soon experience. The thought of becoming the property of one of the outsiders, frightened her more than any of the sadistic tortures Carlton Prescott had put her through.
After the riders finished a quick meal of hard tack and watered the slaves, Carlton tied his human chattel to the loop on the back of his saddle. The cowboys remounted their horses to begin their final ascent to the large log cabin. Carlton tipped his black hat back slightly, and reached into his shirt pocket to study the picture of the girl he would soon be acquiring. The other clans’ representatives would be arriving soon, and Amber would be leaving with one of them at the end of the week. He knew she would probably end up with the Tyler clan to the north, where the wilderness was more isolated and the cold winters even harsher than his at the west. Even with the lesser clan, her unresponsive nature would most probably land her with the labor slaves, where she would be tossed into one of their cages and her numbed accepting mind would not matter, as long as she performed with her mouth and kept her legs spread.
There would be over twenty captives brought to the lodge to be divided between the four clans over the coming month. The last group of new slaves to arrive would be the middle-aged woman, her teenage daughter whose picture had so intrigued him, and the husband who had arranged the trip and was unaware that he was to disappear as well, making for a profitable transaction for the patriarchs.
When a man abetted the procurers in capturing their girlfriends or wives, the clan called the capture ‘whiplash’, because the men never suspected their treachery would also doom them to life in the mountains. There were three such captures this year, resulting in three new men to help with the labor in the camps, and all of the clans were pleased. Their procurers in the lowlands had done well this year, especially Donnie Prescott who had really come through with the family of three, plus five more girls that would be delivered over the next month. Carlton had decided to keep the blonde from the moment Cass had sent her picture to him.
The riders left the trees and walked their horses across the waving green grasses of the high pasture. Carlton looked around the blue skyline at the mountain ranges surrounding him, scanning the spiky thick carpet of trees as if he could sense the other clans that were already making their way to the summer trade. As leader of the clans, Carlton was responsible for providing fresh slaves for all of his kin who had been quietly hidden in the jagged ranges for centuries, since their ancestors first pushed west to escape the civilities settling in the lowlands of the new country. His forefathers had not traded their wealth and come to this new land to be shackled into the restraints of the polite society they had left in Europe.
When they had crossed over the savage country with a group of religious zealots who eventually settled further west, the original clan decided on these twenty thousand acres of inhospitable mountainous property, useless to anyone else. Their representatives on the lowlands carefully purchased and secured the property in several different names, so it would not catch the attention of curious officials. As far as anyone on the lowlands knew, the unlikely ranges were owned by several families and simply passed on through the years.
The jagged, mountainous property held no interest to anyone else, and on the flatlands at the base of the foothills where their land joined the rest of the country it bordered parkland. Only a few ambitious hikers tried to make their way onto the private property, and they were quickly turned back when one of the clan rangers who secured the perimeter told them they were no longer on government land. They never took the misguided hikers, thus avoiding anyone from the parks investigating the hidden trails that led up the rocky cliffs.
The riders neared the large log structure, surrounded by half a dozen smaller cabins nestled under the pines. Carlton handed Amber’s lead to the trail guide who lived at the lodge year round, and whose sole responsibility was to guide the new captives up the mountain. “Henry, take care of Amber for me. No marks, though.”
Amber’s eyes raised, and the fear creeping into her panicked mind caused her to break one of the patriarch’s many rules. “Please, Master, don’t trade me.”
Her words came out in a gushing sob… a most pleasing sound… and Carlton looked down at her tears with angry surprise. “A year of training in the camp, and only the thought of being sent to a lesser clan can get you to show some emotion? If your fate were not already decided, girl, this would have done it. The west patriarchs voted to trade you.” The finality of his decision sank in when he removed the leather tag with the western clan’s seal from his pocket and clipped it to her nipple ring, assuring Carlton a replacement slave when Amber
was selected by another group.
The girl quickly returned to her quiet, docile state. Over the months at camp, the clan had begun betting if any man or woman could cause the girl to scream or wail. She merely hissed or grimaced until she retreated into the silent, apathetic state that encouraged no arousal from any of them. Carlton had four other girls and a man to trade down their clans’ society. His clan held the Prescotts’ land to the west and was first in importance, followed by Johanssons’ lands to the east, Hoffmans’ hot dry cliffs to the south, and Tylers’ difficult lands to the north.
The girls he was trading were for the most part used up, and had basically been reduced to the same non-responses Amber had exhibited from the beginning of her training. They just were not any fun at all when they became robotic sex toys, so boring that the patriarchs decided that even the laborers at the camp were going to receive new tension relief with the former ranch-hands’ women, as the clan shifted their slaves down their hierarchy or out of camp.
Carlton glanced at the picture of the girl and gently stroked down the long blonde hair with his thumb. He hoped the blue eyes would take on a glassy appearance when they filled with tears, and his cock twitched when he studied her full lips before he tucked the photo back into his pocket.
Chapter I
Rylee took the kerchief from around her neck and lifted her hat to mop the sweat off her brow, and then she pushed it into her pocket and reached forward to pat the pretty bay she was riding. The trip had been her stepfather’s idea, and was supposed to be an attempt to get their family back together. Richard had married her mother within a year of Rylee’s dad’s death five years ago, just before her fourteenth birthday. He had been her father’s lawyer, and was in charge of executing the proceeds of the estate.
Her father… her real father… had been successful in real estate investments, and when he had died so suddenly in the car accident, Richard had been a godsend to her mother by helping her figure out how to lucratively divest herself of the myriad of properties. Marcy had no idea how to maneuver in the business world, as her life had been devoted to being the perfect wife and mother.
She was ten years older than Richard. Still, at forty one, she was an attractive woman who carefully maintained her figure, valiantly fighting the attack of gravity that had only slightly affected her: a little sag to her large breasts, maybe a bit more jiggle to her bottom, and thin lines around the edges of her eyes. She had tied her light brown hair tied back into a short ponytail for the ride, and only a few stray gray hairs filtered through it.
There was tension at home during Rylee’s senior high school year, and dinner was turning into an unpleasant event with Richard either absent, or Rylee forced to endure the inevitable discussion about the affair Marcy had discovered, or the large sums of money that had disappeared from her accounts. To Rylee, it was becoming obvious the man wanted to move on to younger pastures, but he did not want to cut the apron strings of her mother’s wealth.
The final straw came when Marcy wanted to transfer funds from her monthly dividends to enroll Rylee in college, only to find Richard had taken an advance on them. Actually, he had taken a loan on three months worth of her income, and her mom had tears in her eyes when she told Rylee she would have to start a semester behind. Even with the scholarship, the elite college she wanted her daughter to attend was financially out of reach.
Not that it mattered now, but Richard knew he had gone too far. If it had only been Marcy’s living expenses, he could have charmed his way around her. He really had no idea she would be checking her account so closely because she needed the money for Rylee. All he had heard for the past year was the scholarship his stepdaughter had received, and he did not know it would still leave them short to enroll her. He did know Marcy would not be swayed with mere words when it came to her daughter.
He groveled sufficiently for two months, before declaring what an idiot he had been, and how he wanted things to get back to normal. He knew both women enjoyed riding and camping, so he surprised them with the two week hiking trip into the western mountains.
The trip was expensive at the onset, but Donnie had assured Richard he would be quite wealthy when he returned down the mountain… alone. He had met the man at a kinky club Cass had taken him to. The dark dungeon had an ominous feel to it, but something about the atmosphere with people dressed in outrageous leather outfits, some leading their collared partners on leashes, was arousing. Donnie Prescott had seen him scrutinizing the surroundings and had approached him while Cass was busy on the dance floor.
The attentions of the pretty young woman had captivated Richard, and he was delighted to discover Cass had connections with an unsavory group that could divest his wife of her fortune and free Richard from both Marcy and her brat. Donnie was the procurer for the clan for the western states, and he used his sister Cass to help acquire the little sideline negotiations he conducted, along with running the club. The clan educated and trained the sons and daughters for five years of procurement and education, such as law… concentrating on legal financial documents, or medicine… concentrating on injury and plastic surgery. After their obligation was fulfilled, they were replaced by new clan members and returned to the mountains to take their place within the mountain hierarchies.
Donnie and Cass were finishing their fourth year, and they were pleased with their record for acquiring desirable flesh associated with large coffers to keep the clans and their flatland business interests well funded. Their success in procurement would dictate how far up the leadership caste they would be placed when they returned home. Cass’ latest ‘boyfriend’, was going to supply them with a hefty sum. Donnie already had the necessary documents prepared by the clans’ lawyer, who operated his procurements to the east, enabling them to transfer the family’s assets to their offshore account. Cass explained to Donnie that Richard was a little on the ‘square’ side, but had a promising financial landslide through his wife.
Donnie relayed the cost of the trip to Richard, and it had forced him to falsify a few bank transfers and documents that had ultimately led to the blow out with Marcy about the missing money. Richard forced himself to look properly chastised, while he held back his laughter at the thought that her money was facilitating her own disappearance, and that Rylee would not need the money for college.
Rylee was a not so unfortunate casualty in the plan. Originally, the cost to get rid of Marcy was almost double, due to her advanced age. When Richard asked Donnie what it would cost to include Rylee in the deal, the requested figure was cut almost in half. Richard decided not to miss the opportunity for the amount he would save if he included his stepdaughter, who was a much more profitable commodity. Of course, Richard always knew Rylee would have to disappear, as well. She would never believe her mother simply took off, and it would not be difficult for the young woman to find someone to search for her mother, or possibly freeze Richard out of the fortune. Cass had managed to sneak a picture of the girl out of his wallet to forward to the clan.
Richard supplied all the legal documents Donnie had requested, along with the account numbers and passwords to his wife’s accounts. Part of the deal was for his new friends to use an untraceable company to strip her accounts and settle the money into an offshore bank for him. Marcy transferred jewelry from her safety deposit box once a month. Richard had stripped the contents three days ago and he had Cass hide them at her apartment.
One of Richard’s biggest mistakes was not realizing Cass was Donnie’s sister. The brother and sister laughed when Richard dumped her right before he left on the trip with his family, after deciding it would be easier when he returned to take off without the impediment of a demanding, expensive girlfriend. He missed the slight grin Donnie had given him when he told him he wanted the house put up for sale because he would not be returning to Spartenville. By giving them all the information they needed to take over his finances, Richard had unknowingly marked himself for whiplash, and hastened his own disappearance.
Richard pasted on a smile. It would only be a few more days before he was rid of her. “I’m fine, Marcy. It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden, but other than a few saddle sores, I’m doing great.” Richard looked around the trees they were navigating as they rode up the slope. “I can certainly see why you girls enjoy this. The fresh air and quiet are really great,” he lied smoothly. He could not wait to get back to his air conditioned sport car and head out of the western mountains towards Las Vegas. Before he left, Donnie assured Richard that he already had reservations in place for a suite at his favorite casino.
The path was a little rocky, and Richard gasped when his horse stumbled. He stared ahead at Rylee’s back while she comfortably rocked in the saddle. The plans for the women were not clear to him, but he shrugged with indifference and his mind wandered to all the things he planned to do with their money.
Rylee reached down to grab a bottle of water out of her pack, and Richard watched her slim waist as she bent backwards. She smiled at him and he thought how much she looked like her mother, except her hair was blonde and her ponytail almost brushed the saddle. She had the same crystal blue eyes, pert little nose, and full lips that had kept her dating all through high school. Richard studied her ample breasts pushing against her blouse. They were just like Marcy’s, but still firm, as was her tight, rounded ass.
Whiplash! Page 1
