Carnal Captive (19 page)

“
Ah, ah,” she grunted repeatedly. “
Ow! I—I’m sorry, Master, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m buggering you.” Reno laughed. Under his
digging
fingers, her skin turned white. “Taking what’s my due.”

“That’s right.” Guessing Reno had better things to do than
talk
, Damek
slid her collar around
,
loop
ed
his finger through the ring
,
and force
d
her to look up at him. Why had he put the digital
back in his pocket
? Her expression was priceless. He gave her a quick look at the whip,
followed by
smack
ing
her back.
The
earlier marks
had faded
a bit
s
o replacing them with
fresh
designs
made all the sense in
the world.

“I’m repeating this to make sure you get it,” he
told her
. Inclined as he was to hit her again, she needed to
focus, at least for a while, on
what was happening to her pussy. “You are,
as I’ve
pointed out
, a piece of meat. A
n
expensive one but really nothing more. If you’re lucky, there’ll be a measure of pleasure—“ He chuckled at how th
e words
came out. “woven into the disagreeable
aspects
, but you’ll never know when
anything’s
going to happen so don’t take any of those
delightful
moments for granted.”

“Okay. Okay.”
H
alf-strangled words
erupted
from Reno. “Getting there. I’m fucking getting there.” Eyes starting to roll upward,
he
repeatedly
pounded into the
whimpering
slave. “Whip her. Keep at it while…”

Damek understood a man not being able to finish a sentence
at a time like this
.
Letting go of her collar
, h
e
positioned himself so he could give equal attention to her buttocks, thighs, and shoulders. Keeping his strength under control at times like this was never easy. The more marks he created, the
strong
er the impulse to double his effort.

Reminding himself that
he had a
lesson
to
get across
, h
e
switched her over and over while studying
her for
signs that
everything
was colliding inside her. He
sensed
no pleasure on her part, just pain a
long with
an element
he couldn’t put his finger on.
Angry,
he tightened his grip on the whip and
hit her as hard as he could
.

Yowling like a stepped-on cat, she bucked.

Red faced,
Reno
gaped
at him. “Damn it, what’d you do?”

“You do your job, I’ll
handle
mine.”

Mid thrust, Reno
froze
. “I can’t trust you. Hell, you can’t trust yourself.”

Wrong! How dare he say that!

“Sting her,” Reno ordered. “Just damn sting her.”

Furious
as he was at Reno for ordering him, he n
evertheless vow
ed
his partner would
n
ever
again
accuse him of losing control. No more letting the tiger out of its cage.

Deliberately not meeting Reno’s glare, he snapped the whip as if
he was after
flies that had landed on her. She
’d gone back to
resting
her forehead was on the floor
,
maybe
so she could
lose herself in what was
taking place
inside her
whore hole
. Reno reach
around his cock and grabbed what he could of her pussy
.

The slave whined and moaned
, w
iggl
ing
her buttocks
about—not that
her effort
stood a chance of shaking Reno off
.
Determined not to let her for a second
forg
e
t
the whip,
Damek
settled
into
his job
. He was striping her all right, the whip leaving
lovely
red
lines
along her thigh. She moan
ed incessantly. If anything,
her buttocks
wiggled even more
. Grunting, she turned her head toward him, but her gaze didn’t meet his. Her eyes fluttered, and her mouth hung open. Drool dampened the floor.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted like the cheap slut she was.

“Got her—where I want her
.
” Reno
’
s hand was still under
his cock
,
doubtlessly
locked onto her
pussy
, giving it a lesson in domination
.

And pleasure, Damek amended a
s
the slave’s climax hit her. He’d seen everything from ladylike twitches to animalistic howls accompanied by thrashing bodies. Judging by how she
writhed
, he concluded she was near the upper end. Too bad she wasn’t free so
he’d
get the full effect.
Maybe next time.

Dropping the whip, he hauled out his digital and re
peatedly depressed the button.
“Ride her. Yeah, ride
the bitch!”

The other trainer dove into his own release. Deep-throated nonsense spewed from him. Not giving a damn whether Reno would approve, Damek
kept taking pictures
.

When, finally, he’d calmed down, Reno pulled his shrinking cock out of the gaping
, gushing
hole. Damek recorded the exit
with
a series of rapid shots, careful to include the slime oozing
from
her.
Panting, Reno backed away.

Between her
own rapid breaths
and
trembling muscles,
Damek figured
she wanted to be set free so she could rest.

“Not going to happen,” he informed her, making sure she got
the point
by slapping her buttocks. “
You haven’t serviced me yet.”

“No, please.”

He
slapped
her again hard enough to
sting
his palm. “Please what?”

“Master?”

“Kind of slow on the uptake but I’ll cut you some slack considering your brain’s scrambled.”

Grimacing
, he studied the mess between her legs. Next time, if he didn’t take her first, he’d make sure he had something to clean her up with.
S
tepp
ing
out of his shorts
and briefs
, he
wiped off the discharge as best he could.
 
   
 
 

“If it disgusts you,” Reno said from where he lean
ed
against a wall, “why don’t you wait?”

Waiting wasn’t in him. Spreading her sex lips, he shoved home and started thrusting. S
cant s
econds later he came
, flooding her with his load
.

“That was fast.”

No way would he acknowledge Reno. 
  

Chapter Twelve

According to the information Bay had been given, the slave had been at property owned by Carnal Incorporated for six days. His initial demand to see her s
oon
after her capture had resulted in a reminder about the small print in the contract
he’d
signed. As who
m
ever he’d talked to explained, experience had taught Carnal staff that immersing a novice slave in the corporation’s way of doing things sped up the process. Having her owner there
too soon would
confuse her with regards to who she should obey.

Bay thought the explanation sucked the big one. More likely, the so-called employees wanted
to be left alone
to partake of the goodies. However,
as
it turned out he
’d
been too busy to see her and the operation before today.
He’d taken a commercial flight and
was pic
ked up by a Carnal employee who’d driven him out to the remote, mountainous location.

Fortunately the driver hadn’t been interested in talking which had given
him
time to
assess
everything that had happen
ed
recently. He’d majored in physical therapy but had
signed a pro football contract before
graduat
ing
.
H
is interest in the human body
had
continued all through his playing years
,
and
he’d
design
ed
some
equipment
for
injury
rehabilitati
on
. His initial intent
after his release h
ad been to market to professional sports’ teams only to encounter resistance
from
owners and
trainers reluctant to try something new on valuable
horseflesh
.

Regrouping, he’d
looked into
mass marketing. He’d thought he’d turn promotion and publicity over to an advertising firm, but they insist
ed
he
should
be the spokesman. He was the jock after all, the recognizable public face.
Both his business manager and lawyer had
pointed out that h
e’d spent more than half of his life in the public arena. Why wouldn’t he want that to continue?

Because
he was damn sick and tired of people running his life. Playing for four teams in the last five years wasn’t enough? He was still going to be
treated like a marketable commod
ity
?

Without enough down time to play with his new toy.

Once they’d left
the highway, it had taken the driver and him
the better part of
fifteen
minutes to reach the house—hell, it was a mountain lodge. The only thing the log and stone structure lacked was a ski resort and bimbos in expensive ski outfits. After
being dropped off in front, he
started up the stairs
.
Before he reached the deck, a
slim, middle-aged man
wearing
slacks and collared shirt
stepped
out
and introduced himself as Joe
Jones
.

“I’m glad I got to you
when I did
,”
Joe
said
, revealing
too-
perfect teeth
. “This way I can
direct you
. Your slave
and
some
others are
being worked out back today.” He pointed at a graveled path
that went
around the side of the lodge. “We believe in exposing our trainees to as much fresh air and sunlight as possible.” He chuckled. “Th
en th
ere’s the added benefit of letting them see what they can’t have.”

Going by Joe’s tone, appearance, and demeanor, Bay half expected to be
led
to a new car showroom. Instead,
he was taken past a trio
of what appeared to be oversized dog kennels
at
the rear of the
lodge
. Joe
started
down a
n even
narrow
er
gravel path snak
ing
through the pines.

The evergreens gave way to a
large
open area
surrounded by eight foot high cyclone fencing. Inside the corral—he couldn’t think what else to call it—were several stations
similar to what
dog owners might use for
endurance training.