Captive Heroes

by Springer, Jan

  Well at least they wouldn’t kill him…yet.

  “First I must relieve myself. I will return in a moment.”

  Excitement slammed into him when no one objected. He moved quickly, but the instant he entered the limits of the firelight, a set of footsteps echoed behind him. His hopes plummeted. They wouldn’t let him escape with ease, would they?

  “No need to go any farther, male.” It was Samson and he stood very close.

  Taylor untied the strings to his loincloth and proceeded to relieve himself while Samson stood nearby. Here in the darkness, outside the light of fire, Taylor would have a chance in escaping. That is, if he moved fast and took out Samson quietly and quickly.

  “What you said about treating the females with tenderness. Is this true? Have you experienced this?” Samson asked softly.

  Great, now the male wished to discuss a lesson in fucking?

  “It is true,” Taylor answered.

  “And you have experienced this? Witnessed this?” The hope in Samson’s lowered voice made Taylor realize his words had made a profound impact on the young man. He just wished Samson hadn’t followed him.

  “It is true. Yes, with some females they will respond. Give them time.”

  “How much time?” Samson prodded.

  “Each female is different. It depends on their previous experiences with males.”

  Taylor completed his mission and fiddled in the darkness with his loincloth strings. He really needed to make a run for it, but Samson seemed genuinely interested. If he could persuade the young male to treat females better, then perhaps other males would notice a difference in their females’ behavior.

  “You will demonstrate this tenderness with the two females as you fuck them. We go back to the camp. I am eager to learn.”

  Taylor frowned and his gut twisted in a frustration. “It isn’t that easy, male. You need to seek their permission before you fuck them.”

  Silence.

  “Nothing good came from the way the females treated males in captivity, correct?” Taylor prodded.

  Still silence. At least the male was listening. He hoped.

  “Nothing good comes from the way the males currently treat their captive females.”

  “They do as they are told,” Samson growled. “What else is there?”

  Taylor smiled inwardly at the male’s curiosity.

  “Perhaps you should explore other options. Bring flowers to a female you are interested in. Show her you enjoy her company by asking about her past. Her life before she was enslaved.”

  “Her past?”

  “This shows her you care to know more about her and she will be more friendly rather than scared.”

  “Friendly,” Samson repeated with a softness that indicated he may like the idea.

  “And she will be more receptive in the bed,” Taylor urged.

  “I see.”

  “Now I trust you will excuse me…I must alleviate myself further before I return.” He hoped the male would get the message that he still needed to go.

  “You will return and show us?” Taylor hated the hope in the male’s voice.

  “I will return.” Not.

  Samson left, but when Taylor turned, he froze as a figure stood bathed in the moonlight and a metallic glint sparkled off something in the male’s hand.

  King…and he meant business with his knife.

  “You are no longer one of us for speaking such treason to a young Death Valley male. You will die for your insolence.”

  As he swept the knife sideways, Taylor tried to move out of the way, but the darkness was deceiving. He gasped as red-hot pain slashed across the right side of his waist. His knees buckled from the ferocity, but he could not let himself fall.

  Grabbing a nearby branch from the ground, he turned and swung it at King with all his might. He grimaced at the distinct sound of bone cracking as the thick, heavy branch crushed King’s skull. The male went down to the ground.

  He lay motionless.

  The other males called out in confusion. Obviously they heard something amiss.

  Taylor wasted no time and slipped quietly into the dark forest.

  * * * * *

  From past experience with females brought to Death Valley, women always warmed up to Blackie. Eventually. He never forced himself on an unwilling female. However he had participated in forced seductions with a female who showed signs of interest in group sex.

  He had, on occasion, participated in what the Boys referred to as conditioning. Conditioning a woman to a male’s touch. As he planned to do with this female named Kinley.

  The women he knew were different from this one. Kinley did not possess their air of superiority. She behaved differently. She did not force herself to be in charge of him as the other females tended to try. She did not argue or fight overly. She had accepted he was her captor and she wore his chains. Although outwardly she did not show reception of her chains, collar and clamps, she had accepted his touch. His instincts told him that she could be a natural sexual submissive.

  A female sexual submissive was virtually unheard of on this planet, yet it had always been a fantasy of his to have a female who would submit to him. The females he came into contact with resisted a male being in a dominant role, but he craved it nonetheless. Just as he craved Kinley. Perhaps in Kinley his fantasy could come true?

  He had been awake for hours, since daylight had crept into the cave, illuminating the sleeping figure of the female. Her curvy body was pressed against his entire front as he spooned her. He wanted her so badly, he ached as never before. His cock and balls throbbed as never before.

  She was his prisoner. Beautiful, alluring. Attractive.

  Reluctantly he moved his gaze from her and eyed the dying embers of the fire. Throughout the stormy night he had left her side, tossing wood into the pit, keeping them warm. Then he had rejoined her.

  Each time he settled back next to her, she’d snuggled close to him in her sleep, her lush curves igniting fires within him. Just watching her, smelling her, touching her warmed him like no other female had ever done. He had never known this attraction toward a female. This need to comfort, to protect. To make her only his.

  During the storm he had worried for her safety. Had been rough with her in his fear, unintentionally rough. Arrows of regret and guilt rammed through him as he surveyed the several red blisters marking her arms and legs as well as the few burn holes in her garments.

  Areas around her wrist were red from the cuffs he’d kept on for too long. He wanted to soothe all those injured areas of her flesh. To smooth ointment over her nipples again. To massage her clit and have it engorge with arousal beneath his fingers. Her mouth parting as her sexy whimpers escaped while he touched her.

  For a brief moment, he considered leaving her. Running from these odd—yet heartening as well as frightening—thoughts that raced through him like last night’s storm.

  They had been lucky in escaping with mere burns. They would be lucky too if they could make it back to Death Valley without another storm. But he was relatively confident they could get out of the Acid Zone in one piece.

  He doubted he could keep this female out of his head or his thoughts, for he had discovered since meeting this one that all he could do was think about her. Think about how to bring a smile to her face. There was more to this female. She wanted more from him.

  But what?

  Oh why did females have to be such beautiful, mysterious, complicated creatures?

  * * * * *

  They were on the move again. Kinley bound in her silver chains, nipple and labia clamps, much like yesterday. Yet something had changed.

  Him.

  He awoke on the wrong side of the floor this morning, acted grumpy and distant. After supplying her with a breakfast similar to last night’s meal, he’d gone through the same ministrations as yesterday. Collaring, cuffing her, chaining, clamping her and touching her until she was just as aroused as yesterday…if not more.

&n
bsp; Falling asleep while his hand cupped her breast hadn’t been as hard as she’d thought it would be. Nor had the electrifying contact of his hard body pressing intimately against her back prevented her from falling asleep.

  She literally had been exhausted. Weary from all that running and climbing and tired from her arousal and the fear and excitement from that acid storm.

  She’d slept as never before. Deep and soothing with frequent dreams of him. His lithe, strong body coming over her. Massive muscles in his tanned, whip-marked shoulders flexing as he held himself above her. His face hard yet tender at the same time as he lowered his naked body onto her.

  His cock, long and thick, swollen and purple with arousal, entering her in one fierce thrust, overpowering her with such domination she’d literally ached with need for him. She woke that way. Aching, needing him, wanting him, secretly begging for him to fuck her.

  Maybe she should just ask him politely if he wouldn’t mind putting out the fires claiming her body? He had, after all, created these exquisite urges.

  He wanted to have sex. She wanted him too. Yet there was that invisible barrier she just couldn’t seem to break through. A barrier that prevented her from making the request. Okay, so her pride prevented her from begging.

  But he certainly did look yummy this morning. Yummier than yesterday, if that were possible. Nice, tanned body. Magnificent muscles in his legs. Sensually shaped ass. Oh yes, a very hot bod.

  She wondered what he would do if she dropped to her knees behind him, grabbed him by his hips and licked the curves of his rock-hard ass. Well, she couldn’t do it, not with her wrists cuffed to her waist…compliments of him.

  Son of a bitch!

  Or she could simply stop. He held her by the hand so he wouldn’t have a choice but to turn around, and she would look into his eyes and beg.

  Just beg.

  Fuck me! Hard! Fast! Gentle! Slow! Oh she didn’t know how she wanted him. She just wanted him.

  Deep in thought, she crashed right into a solid backpack. He didn’t so much as flinch when she hit him yet his entire body was tense and alert.

  Alarm raged through her. “What is it?” she asked as she came to stand beside him.

  “Something is out there. Someone.”

  She followed his gaze as he surveyed an area to their right. There was nothing but dense green foliage and dark trees.

  “Where?” she whispered.

  He said nothing. Instead he cocked his head slightly, as if he’d heard something. His nostrils flared. His eyes narrowed.

  Kinley swallowed, bit back the panic threading through her like a deadly snake.

  Suddenly a whispering whipped past her ears, and then Blackie cursed.

  “Run!” he hissed. She was about to do just that when he dropped to his knees.

  “Go!” he managed to say before his eyes rolled white and he fell into a limp mass on the ground.

  Oh my God! What happened?

  “Blackie!” she cried out, suddenly more concerned about him than her own safety. Terror ripped through her when he didn’t move.

  Before she could blink, they were there. Surrounding her. Women…or make that teenage girls. Maybe around eighteen or nineteen. About ten of them. Blondes, all of them. They wore bone necklaces, straw skirts and no tops, revealing variously sized breasts. And they had very sharp-looking spears. All of them aimed at her.

  Oh not good!

  “What have we here?” The tallest blonde chuckled as she looked down at motionless Blackie, then back at Kinley.

  “A female being collared and led by a male? Highly illegal. I’m quite glad we were able to fill him with Passion Poison and come to your rescue.”

  “Passion Poison?” Kinley gasped. She did not like the sound of that.

  “Oh he’ll be out until we require his services. We’re on our male hunt and he looks to be our perfect first. Don’t you agree, women-to-be?”

  The young women shouted, “Yes!” in a united voice.

  Kinley blinked as shock rolled through her in one dark wave.

  Their first? Women-to-be?

  Oh my God, what in the world was going on here?

  “Who are you, female? To which hub do you belong?”

  Hub? What the hell was a hub?

  “Is the male from Brothel Town?” another asked with excitement.

  “He belongs to me,” Kinley said quickly, not liking the inquisitive way these women were bending over Blackie’s prone figure and undoing his breechclout.

  They all looked at her, shock splashed on their faces.

  “You? He is your male? And you let him demean you in this way?” The tall blonde—whom Kinley surmised to be the leader—looked her up and down, her focus lingering on the collar, leash, chains and other BDSM paraphernalia latched onto Kinley’s body.

  “Yes…I was…fantasizing. I ordered him to place all these items on me.”

  “Well, I’m afraid he no longer belongs to you. We captured him, he is ours. Those are the rules when commoners venture into Yellow Hair Territory. We thank you for bringing us tonight’s dinner.”

  Tonight’s dinner? Kinley’s tummy heaved. Cannibals? Oh my God!

  What kind of twisted, freaked-out, Alice in Wonderland fantasy was she dreaming? She was dreaming? Right?

  One of the Yellow Hairs who’d been bending over Blackie lifted his loincloth, revealing his engorged cock. Obviously he’d been fantasizing about Kinley while he led her around by a leash. Gasps and cries of delight reverberated as the blondes huddled around Blackie to get a closer look at his cock.

  “He’s so big!” one of the girls cried out with glee, her small fingers not able to circle the width of his shaft.

  “He will supply much sacred drink for us. The elders will be pleased at our catch,” another giggled.

  Elders. Okay, they must be older women with common sense.

  “I need to speak to your elders,” Kinley instructed, trying hard to squash the nasty tremors slithering through her at having so many women ogling her man.

  Correct that. He wasn’t her man. She had to pretend he was or he would be their dinner tonight. Hope roared through her. Maybe she could talk her way out of this crazy situation yet.

  “Outsiders are not allowed to speak to the elders. That is strictly forbidden,” the leader said, shaking her head.

  Kinley’s gut clenched and desperation snapped through her like a live wire. She had to do something.

  The leader nodded to one of the nearest women. “Proceed to place on the traditional cock ring.”

  Fuck you!

  “Well I’m sorry. I must insist,” Kinley replied. “He is my male and I will not let you have him!”

  They ignored her and one of the women removed something from a bag she carried. Yup, definitely a cock ring from the looks of it.

  Maybe a little show of force would get their attention. Kinley grabbed a spear from the nearest blonde who was busy touching Blackie’s testicles and brandished the spear at their leader. The Yellow Hairs stiffened, all their attention focused back on the leader who lifted her brows in surprise at Kinley’s outburst.

  Spears came up again, aimed at Kinley.

  Oh shit!

  She was so outnumbered.

  “Now that I have your full attention, I will reiterate. This male belongs to me. Either you all get the hell out of here or your leader dies.” To her surprise, her voice sounded decently strong despite her insides shaking like a leaf.

  Kinley tensed as one of the Yellow Hairs leaned closer to their leader and whispered in her left ear.

  Talk the chick into leaving us alone, please.

  The leader frowned, her eyes narrowed with curiosity and she looked at Kinley. Well, actually not at her, but at the bracelet Kinley wore on her wrist. The bracelet that was just peeking out below the leather cuff.

  “That is the mark,” the leader whispered, her eyes widening with unmistakable awe. “It is the square. It has the white and red stripes and the blue wi
th white stars.”

  “Yes, it is the mark,” another blonde chick replied and, to Kinley’s shock, she dropped her spear, got down on her knees and bowed, her arms stretched full out in front of her.

  Okay, what the hell is going on now?

  Suddenly all the other women dropped their spears. Kinley stiffened as they moved in around her, fingering her medical alert bracelet. They were quite intrigued with the US flag. But why? Why the big deal?

  She held her breath as one by one the rest of the women did as the first. They got down on their knees and bowed to her.

  “Your wish is our command, Goddess of Freedom.”

  Oh my God.

  They thought she was a goddess because she had a flag on her medical alert bracelet? Boy, these chicks were out to lunch.

  Big-time!

  Chapter Eight

  Blackie couldn’t move a muscle and that really pissed him off. He had no problem enjoying the women’s hands sensually sliding along his flesh, stroking his cock, handling his balls. They knew exactly how to arouse him with their touches. They knew he was aware of everything too.

  Just before he’d gone down, he’d seen the Yellow Hairs. The bitches would want him for their roast.

  That’s what they did—ate males. And he’d walked right into their territory. All because he’d been fixated on his captive, fantasizing about taking her up against the nearest tree or bending her over the nearest log and thrusting his cock into her pussy.

  How had he been so careless? How had he allowed himself to become so preoccupied he didn’t even see the danger until he’d been hit in the thigh with a dart filled with Passion Poison?

  Already his body was heating up. Arousal screamed through his veins. His shaft tightened unnaturally. His breaths came faster and harder.

  He wanted to scream. Wanted sex. Sex would be able to extinguish these carnal urges. That’s what the Passion Poison was designed to do. To bring down even the biggest of males and turn his blood so hot he couldn’t think past fucking because he was suspended in a world of pleasure. That is, until the blonde virgins had satisfied themselves upon him and the elders gave the signal to carry out the death blow.