Surrender's Dance

by Vonna Harper

  She ran her fingers up his legs, drawing out the journey from knees to thighs to hips. Her fingertips traveled up and over his pelvic bone, ventured closer and closer to his cock. Instead of denying her access, he turned his attention to her pelvis.

  I accept your gift, his dark gaze seemed to be saying. I understand the true meaning behind this exploration.

  At times she barely felt his touch. Then, a heartbeat later, he’d press a thumb or finger against her, igniting her in always new, exciting ways. She brushed his cock. Over and over again she made contact but carefully avoided any kind of a pattern. His intense eyes watched her every movement. She sensed his wariness. No wonder. After who know how long spent manipulating and conditioning women, he’d forgotten -- if he’d ever known -- that sometimes there were no ulterior motives. Sometimes two people simply wanted to fuck.

  Fuck. Sex. Make love?

  Dizzy with a need she couldn’t articulate or contain, she scooted around until she’d positioned her legs on either side of him. She kept her hands on him, learning, gifting. Eager to deepen the contact, she increased the pressure on his legs. They now fit securely between her knees. She reached up and tried to pull him down over her. She didn’t care that she’d assumed the missionary position because even now, even in this, he was her lord and master.

  Stroking his neck, shoulders, and arms by turn, she returned his gaze. It bothered her that she couldn’t read his mood. When he stretched out over her, she felt a momentary panic, then squelched it. Live in the moment. Keep it everything. His cock brushed her mons, sparking a volcanic response deep inside. Spurred by heat and energy, she bent her legs and arched her pelvis toward him, called him home.

  My gift to you, to us.

  He slid in so easily, so fully that the penetration was complete before she’d comprehended the journey. He loomed over her and trapped her between his body and the mattress. She smelled only him, felt nothing but him. Her cunt had expanded to accommodate his size, and she felt his balls pressing against her flesh. Sudden panic snaked through her. Then she felt his muscles relax and believed he’d read her fear. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him.

  The strange lighting kept his features in the dark, but maybe it was better this way. She could concentrate on the union between them and the mutual gifts of their bodies.

  Speak to me without words. Sense my honesty, my trust.

  He pushed in even deeper. She felt his strength build. It flowed over her, weakening her tendons and muscles. You’re everything, my everything. But she didn’t want it to be take and surrender between them, not this time, this first -- no, she would not think “only” -- time, so locked herself in place. I’m strong. Strong. Her cunt felt alive. He filled her and more. She couldn’t distinguish between them. His body, his cock, became part of her, finding nerve endings and switching on yet more circuits. Hot and strong and weak all at the same time, she ceased to exist as a separate person. It didn’t matter. This moment was everything.

  With every thrust he absorbed more and more of her. Her cunt, her soul, became his, and she gave them willingly. She embraced his cock and heartbeat in ways she’d never comprehended, felt only their shared heat, his relentless driving, her pelvis and hips and belly reaching up to him. When strength deserted her arms, she flung them out and transferred everything into the union.

  Her thighs trembled, and her bowed back ached, and her feet threatened to slide on the bed, but she held herself in place. He drove down on her, his grunts as strident as hers.

  Find me. Find me. I want to sing and shout for you, for both of us.

  “Now, now, now!” she cried.

  “Now what?”

  Don’t know. Don’t care. She locked herself in place, held her own as his cock pummeled her. It was if the air had been sucked out of the room, causing her to gasp. She smelled his sweat and hers. She tasted him, tasted herself, bit the inside of her mouth, didn’t care.

  “Now!”

  “What?” He strained against her, his body rigid.

  “Coming! God, coming!”

  “Wait -- for me.”

  Somehow she did. Somehow she held the force at bay. His cock retreated slightly, impaled her again. Repeated. Held.

  “Now!” He loomed over her, his sweaty chest sliding over her breasts. “Now!”

  “Coming!” She struggled to repeat the word but only screamed. Screamed and screamed. He plowed into her and lifted her buttocks off the bed.

  Slowly, she started to come down, but after grinding his elbows into the bed, he thrust and thrust. She clung to him, gripped his powerful ass with aching, trembling fingers. Then he exploded inside her. His cum filled her and drowned her. Thank you. Thank you.

  His sweat-drenched body settled over her, and even as his cock retreated, she kept herself loose and open for him. He rested on top of her. They panted as one.

  It’s all right. Everything is all right. For this moment.

  He rocked back a little but not enough to break the contact. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered.

  “I know.”

  “It won’t happen after tonight.”

  “I know.”

  Instead of getting off her, he pressed his lips against hers, pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasted and explored, and as he did, his cock again swelled. He folded her legs tight against her belly and caressed her breasts. “I can’t get enough of them.”

  “I can’t get enough of you touching them.” Tell me how I’m going to get through the rest of my life without this, without you?

  The words clogged in her throat. She held him with one hand on an elbow and the other around his neck. His cock continued to expand. He easily pushed deep inside her slick, hot passage. “Yes,” she whimpered.

  Unlike the first time, now his strokes felt long and slow. He caressed tissue that should be numb, kept her on the edge, not allowing her to fall into her climax even though she whimpered and strained.

  “I love feeling your need.” His breath feathered against her ear.

  “I can’t -- I have no control ...”

  Neither do I.

  She’d heard his thoughts. She had no doubt of that. But her muscles trembled, and she became heat, and she couldn’t concentrate.

  He slid his hands under her buttocks. The instant his cock ran along the front of her vaginal wall, she came.

  And kept coming.

  She didn’t know how many times they fucked that night or how many times she climaxed.

  Later when she rose on unsteady legs and started toward the bathroom, he stopped her with a hand on her thigh. “You told me about your father, but when was the last time you asked a man for something?”

  “I was eighteen.”

  “Still a girl. What happened?”

  After everything they’d shared, she felt no need to hold back anything. “My mother had been dead for six months, but I was having a terrible time dealing with the loss. There was this man. At least to me back then, someone who had graduated from college was a man. His mother and mine had been friends, so I’d known him for a long time. We started seeing each other shortly after the funeral. I needed -- I needed to feel as if I belonged to someone, wasn’t alone. Then I got pregnant.”

  He drew her down and held her against his strong body.

  “I had this fantasy that we’d get married and raise our child together. Create a family.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “I thought I did.” Her throat felt tight, but she knew she wouldn’t cry. Those tears had been spent years ago. “He didn’t say much the night I told him, but the next day he called to say he’d just gotten his first job, had student loans to pay off, wanted to do things with his life that didn’t include children or a wife. He wanted me to have an abortion.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. That tiny life inside me was precious. Having him say what he did hurt almost as much as losing my mother had. I -- I did something I’m not proud of. So
mething I’ve spent years trying to forget.”

  “Tell me, please.”

  Please. “I went to his place. When he opened the door, I got down on my knees and begged him not to abandon me and our child. I told him how scared I was of being alone. That I’d rather die than lose him. That I’d do whatever he wanted to make it work between us. It -- it became like it had been with my father all over again. He tried to push me away and I wrapped my arms around his legs and begged some more. I don’t know. Maybe he became my father in my mind.” Still appalled by how she’d demeaned herself, she nevertheless met Zemar’s gaze. “He kicked me off him and said I was making a fool of myself and he was disgusted.” She briefly closed her eyes. “He was right, you know.”

  “You were desperate.”

  “Yes. But pleading with him wasn’t going to change him. He was who he was.”

  “A selfish bastard.”

  “And honest.”

  Zemar frowned, then nodded. “You went home then?”

  “I was in no condition to be driving, but yes, I went home. A week later I miscarried. I left him a message telling him, but he never got in touch.”

  “Miscarried. I’m so sorry.”

  “At the time I thought I’d die. Losing her -- I was already convinced I was going to have a girl -- nearly destroyed me. But I healed, finally. Learned how to insulate my heart. I’ve never allowed myself to hurt like that again.”

  “I understand.”

  “Because of your back?”

  “Because I was so damn wrong to believe my parents understood the meaning of the word love.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Early morning sunlight touched Asia’s eyes. She started to turn away from it, then stretched. Last night slipped into her mind. She clung to the memory of touches, words, bodies sharing. Beside her Zemar slept.

  Her full bladder wakened her even more, and she sat up. The promise of a shower should have sent her into the bathroom. Instead, she leaned over him so she could run her lips over his marred back.

  These scars are part of you, part of what I want to learn about you.

  She was still kissing him when the door to her prison opened. Two men clad entirely in gray stepped in. Jumping to her feet, she started back-pedaling. The taller one reached her first, grabbing her tangled hair and forcing her to her knees.

  “Guess who?” the other one said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zemar surge upright.

  “This is your morning wake-up call,” the man holding her down said. “From what we saw last night, we didn’t think you’d be up at dawn.”

  “Damn it, don’t hurt her,” Zemar ordered.

  “Don’t worry. We know how to handle the merchandise. Go back to sleep. We’ll take it from here.” Not waiting for Zemar to answer, he used his hold on her hair to haul her to her feet and into the bathroom. The shorter man also squeezed into the small space and positioned himself so she could no longer see Zemar.

  The taller man turned on the cold water faucet and shoved her into the shower. She gasped and tried to get away, but his firm grip kept her in place. Shivering, she had no choice but to stand under the chilling spray with her head bent uncomfortably toward the man holding her. The other reached in and used a rough, soapy sponge to thoroughly scrub her. He got soap in her eyes and mouth, distracting her a little from his intimate invasion of her body. No matter how she struggled to get away, he washed her throat, breasts, back, belly, arms, and legs. He left her inner thighs and labia until last and lingered over the task. When she tried to back away, he dug his fingers into her hip and all but buried the sponge in her cunt.

  Ashamed and on the brink of tears, she stopped fighting.

  The water was still running when they yanked her back into the larger room where they pushed her face-first against the nearest wall. The taller man swiped at her with a towel, paying particular attention to her breasts and between her legs. They cuffed her hands behind her and rammed a ball gag in her mouth before releasing her.

  Barely trusting her legs, she turned around. Zemar was leaning against the wall opposite the bed, still naked, his features unreadable.

  “You know why we’re doing it this way,” one of the men said to Zemar. “The video.”

  “Yeah,” he’d said without expression. “I stepped over the line.”

  “We didn’t have to see much of what went on here last night. You’ve lost objectivity with this one.” He’d jerked his head at her. “Crap, I’ve never seen so much fucking in one night in my life. Didn’t know it was possible. I don’t suppose you’d have much use for her for a few days anyway. She as hot at she looked?”

  “Listen to me. You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”

  “Like I’m going to damage the merchandise?”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Now get the hell out of here.”

  “We intend to,” he’d said as the other man pushed her toward the door.

  She started to send Zemar a pleading look, then forced herself not to acknowledge his existence. If he truly cared about her, if he had any concern for her fate, he’d stop those men. But he was a Dom with a job to complete. Last night had been an aberration, brief insanity on both their parts.

  The men shoved her into a vehicle that resembled a golf cart. Instead of having space for golf clubs, however, it had been constructed with what she thought of as a roll bar. They released her wrists only to refasten them to the overhead bar. Arms outstretched and her ankles anchored to the bar’s base, she was forced to stand during the ride. The vehicle didn’t have wheels. Instead, it hovered a few inches over the path as it sped through the jungle. At least the trip was smooth, saving her from having to fight to keep her balance. What she wasn’t saved from was a profound helplessness. By the time she’d finally gathered her senses enough to look over her shoulder, the prison and Zemar was out of sight.

  Her captors obviously didn’t care whether she heard them talking, probably because they considered her less than human. The taller one who seemed to be in charge was pissed at and confused by Zemar’s break from regulations and maintained he would need to undergo retraining before being entrusted with another initiate. The other, who kept reaching back to fondle her breasts and reach between her legs, was inclined to cut Zemar a measure of slack. He understood how a trainer could lose control and fuck a slave in training.

  After cursing his companion, the man in charge pointed out that a rare combination of domination and self-restraint was necessary if a trainer was going to remain in control of both the situation and himself. Fucking a newly captured woman was against the rules. Everything was about forced orgasms, bondage, making the female feel like an object instead of a human being.

  Zemar knew better.

  “Damn straight he did,” the other man remarked as the vehicle stopped moving. “But if you think they’re going to slap his wrist you’re crazy. With his reputation and seniority, the leaders will probably turn the video into a training tool. Brainwashing 101. Ain’t that right, slave? Got you all confused.” He punctuated his remark by again trying to insert a finger in her. Fortunately, they’d left her with enough freedom of movement that she wrenched to the side. Still, what if he’d been right? Zemar had deliberately made her think he cared?

  Numb, she had to give herself a mental shake before she could take in her surroundings. She couldn’t call where the two men had taken her a city. Enclosed by tall wooden fencing that put her in mind of a frontier fort, its size was more in keeping with a village. From what little she could tell as she and her handlers approached, it looked as if the fencing was designed to be added onto as the population grew. As soon as they passed through the massive, solid gate, it closed behind them.

  They were now in a large courtyard of sorts with brightly colored seating arrangements set up in the middle of a circular drive. The seating was full of men, most of them ominously sporting black loincloths. The way they conducted themselves left no dou
bt that these were men of power and position. The arrangements consisted of comfortable and sturdy seats at graduated heights so everyone had a clear view of whatever went on in the drive.

  There was enough room between each seat that a trio of naked women, with golden chains dangling from their pierced nipples, were able to circulate, carrying drinks and food-filled trays. All three gave off an unmistakable air of subservience. They kept their eyes downcast, and when a man snapped his fingers, they stopped and allowed the man to fondle them.

  As if that wasn’t enough, each man had at least one woman with him. Most knelt before their masters, although two stood with their hands behind them and their legs widespread, ready to perform tasks she didn’t want to think about. The majority was naked although several wore what looked like chastity belts. All had on collars with chains. None of the women so much as resisted, but their owners kept a tight grip on the chains -- in what seemed to be a matter of one-upmanship. The more tightly a man constricted his slave’s movements, the more she resembled a beaten animal, the more superior the man’s demeanor.

  “Quite a display, don’t you think?” the man who’d just tried to shove his fingers inside her asked. “Gives you an idea what to expect.”

  As if proving the point, a master suddenly grabbed his slave’s breast and hauled her closer. Asia shuddered at the thought of naked knees scraping along the cement risers. Despite her obvious discomfort, the woman struggled to comply. The man slapped her face and shoved her head toward his crotch. Trembling, the woman lifted his elaborately decorated loincloth and took his enormous cock into her mouth.

  The vehicle she’d been bound to started moving again. This time it bumped over the rocky surface, causing her to nearly lose her balance. If she hadn’t been tethered, she would have. As it was, she rocked back and forth, her breasts swaying. Noticing that a number of the men were looking behind her, she glanced in that direction. Another vehicle had pulled into line. It too held a naked, bound, and gagged woman. This one had long white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Her breasts were enormous -- obviously surgically enhanced. Like the women she’d seen in the stadium, this one looked both resigned and excited.