Carnal Captive (3 page)

“Got to you, did I?”
He
planted his face
as
close to hers
as the difference
between
their height
allowed
. “Made you feel things you don’t want to?”

“No, Master. Yes Master. Oh please, what do you want?”

“Your pussy
!
”

“
It isn’t
her
pussy
,” Thomas corrected. “Every inch of her belongs to me, and to you tonight.”

Yes! Damn yes!

He pushed her back, then
laughed
as she again struggled to keep her feet under her. When he was sure she
wasn’t going to
f
all
, he unbuttoned and unzipped. A harsh downward jerk
had
his slacks
and briefs down around his buttocks
with
h
is dark, swollen cock stabb
ing
at her.

“There!” He
indicated
the
chair
he’d been in earlier. “Lean over the arm rest with your ass where I can use it.”

She’d gone back to studying the carpet, but he had no difficulty reading her emotions in the way she
shuffled
over to
where he’d directed
. She knew what was going to happen, wanted and hated it at the same time.

Folding her body over the arm rest with her arms wrenched behind her took every bit of coordination she had. At length her cheek rested against the seat
with
her head turned
to the side
so she could see the room—and him. Her ass
had
bec
o
me
the highest part of her body, prominent and inviting. No way could she straighten without help.

Bay took his sweet time moving out of her sight.
Determined
not to let her anticipate his next move,
he
silently
positioned himself so his cock
was inches from
the
dark
flesh between her
chained
legs.
Do it, just the hell do it!
But he’d dealt with pain
countless times
and knew how to deal with it
.
Endurance
had been a job requirement. 

“So,” he said to Thomas, “to clarify, Carnal is committed to fulfilling my requirements for a slave. I detail my standards and you find—how do you
select her
anyway?”

The bitch hunched over the arm rest shifted
a little
. No wonder.
She certainly looked uncomfortable
. Despite his sympathy, and he did feel just
a
bit sorry for her, he slapped her ass.
“Spread it,” he ordered. Sighing, she widened her stance as far as the hobble allowed.

“Your
prospect
isn’t yet a slave,” Thomas explained. “Given what you’re being charged, it would
be
unethical
of us to pass used merchandise onto you.
You deserve something that’s yours alone.
”

Mine. Me. No longer part of a sport that discards players
the moment
they’re no longer top performers.

The
emotions
he’d been battling for the better part of a year took hold.
Grasping
the slave’s pussy lips
, he
drew
them apart. She yipped but didn’t move. Her juices coated his fingers, forcing him to tighten
his hold
.

“Hell, she’s turned on.”

Thomas chuckled. “Of course she is.”

The how and why of that was something he
wanted to understand
—later. Cursing
at what he wasn’t sure
, he rammed himself into the dripping hole. She tried to lift her head only to let it fall. Dark hair slid over her cheek and throat.

“You’ll
get fresh meat
.
” Thomas
’s
voice came from a million miles away. “Just off the streets so to speak. Ready to be trained and tamed like you want her.”

He couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Two nights ago he’d picked up a woman at a bar and taken her home for
some
action so it wasn’t as if he hadn’t fucked
for a while
. But that had been different, the woman willing, seduction necessary, services paid for with
several drinks
.

This was different. A slave and not a woman was splayed before him. His to plunder.

Power and strength he’d started to forget he was capable of
consumed
him.
Grabbing
the
useless arms
, he
lifted them until the slave gasped. Laughing, he slammed home.

“Master, please, you’re—“

“Shut up!” He
pummeled
the vulnerable buttocks. Laughed when her fingers curled in until her nails
dug
into her palms.

“Ride her,” Cliff
encouraged
.

He did, lost
himself
in a red
rolling haze. This was
his
pussy,
his
cunt,
a
piece of meat that belonged to him tonight. Somehow her mind and body had
misint
er
p
r
eted
the pain he’d inflicted
, turning her
on. Now by damn she was going to pay the pri
ce. No pleasure for her
.

Just him riding her.

Making her slight body shake.

Filling her hole with his
monster
cock.

Pummeling.

Ejaculating.

Slapping and scratching he
r
ass.

Chapter Two

Shari
Isle
ran.

Her breath left small white clouds in the
cool
morning air and her lungs burned, but she still had two of her daily five miles to go.
F
rost lived in the shaded places
under the trees
, but she’d run this route countless times. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know where she needed to concentrate and where she could let her mind drift.

At the beginning, t
he trail climbed steeply
. Fortunately
she was past that and on level ground
in woods
some hundred feet above the small town. This early in the morning,
no vehicle sounds came from the unseen
streets
below. She s
ometimes encountered other runners
on the peaceful route
but
usually not when she ran this early
.

As soon as she’d put in her five miles, she’d go home, shower, eat breakfast, and go into the
room
she’d turned into her studio.
S
he’d spend the next how many hours it took on the paintings that paid the bills
and fed her soul
.

Arms pumping and knees bending, she sidestepped a branch that had
broken off
since yesterday. She should have stopped and
tosse
d
it aside, but she was deep into sub space. It usually took a mile to reach that place where her body ceased to belong to her and became something weightless, mystical.

She loved this part of her daily routine. Thoughts flitted in and out. In a vague way she knew she’d eventually have to deal with
reality
. N
ow th
ose things
lacked weight. She’d become legs and lungs, heart and arms. Loving her
isolation
.

The sun was trying to break through the
mist
, but it would have to work harder
than it was
in order to
get the job done. In fact if she didn’t know the trail as well as she did, she risked getting disoriented. That wasn’t a disaster. After all, the little town was down there. All she’d have to do to reconnect with civilization was—

A faint sound stopped her thought. She tried to
make sense of what had caused it
,
but
it hadn’t lasted long enough
.
A
little uneasy
,
she
tried to
convinc
e
herself she’d
heard a deer.

“Look, I don’t want to bother you,” she told the unseen
creature
. “You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”

Suddenly she wanted to laugh.
Before long it would be rut season for the deer. T
he need to
im
pregnate or become pregnant
would
overr
i
de everything else.
Bucks and does
would have
a single goal, to fuck.

In sad contrast, she hadn’t
had sex
since—

Movement to her left caused her to slow and turn in that direction
. For a
n instant
she thought she’d spotted a deer in the dense shadows. Then the survival instinct that had seen her through her childhood kicked into gear.

A man. Standing with his back to a tree. Watching her.

Unease mixed with
confusion
combined to increase her pace. As she left the watcher in her so-called dust, she
concluded
he
’d
been running when the need to
pee
overtook him. He’d relieved himself behind the tree and
had
been as surprised to see her as the other way around.
S
he glanced back.

He’d moved onto the trail and was jogging after her. She judged him to be six feet tall and beefy with wide shoulders and a hint of a belly under his sweatshirt. It registered that he didn’t have
a runner’s
build
w
hich begged the question of what he was doing out here.

Even more u
neasy, she picked up he
r
pace.
I
f she’d been on a track, she wouldn’t have to pay
close
attention to where she was going. That necessity kept her from looking behind her again. Besides, she didn’t want him to think he’d unnerved her.

Not that! Defin
i
tely
not afraid.

Leaving
the trees and entering an open area eased her mind
. I
f necessary, she could veer off the trail and head cross-country. No way could the big man keep up. A moment later she chided herself for thinking dark
thoughts
. She actually considered stopping and waiting for him to catch up so they could chat.

Mist had
dampened the ground
, making it
slippery. She needed to concentrate on her footing.

She was doing that, half losing herself in the memory of the pratfall she’d taken
on black ice
last winter
when a figure appeared ahead of her. This man, leaner and taller than the other,
stood
straddle-legged in the middle of the path
,
facing her.

Damn it, what—

“About time you caught up to her,” the man
in front
said.

Still
running
, she looked
over her shoulder
. The first man was
trotting
toward her. He was far enough away that he didn’t pose a threat, yet there was something deliberate and challenging about his pace. Between that and the solid form
in her way
, she started to feel trapped.

“I told you I’m no runner,” the man behind her
gasped
. “Besides, I knew you were there to
wrestle with her
.”

Wrestle?
The woods she
’d always
felt so comfortable in became a hostile environment. She
slowed
, careful not to look to the left where she intended to
bolt
if necessary. “I don’t appreciate this.” She spoke firmly. “The trail’s public. Everyone has equal right to be here.”