Submissive (3 page)

I
t was not the intercom Gillian's eyes saw when she opened them, but the full yellow moon shining down from the black velvet Appalachian sky. She was lying naked on the damp grass, her mind finally clear of the drug that had been inserted into her earlier that night. At least she supposed it was that night. She glanced around and saw no one else in this clearing somewhere in the woods. Trying to rise, she found her wrists were clamped solidly to the earth. Stretching her neck left, then right, she saw that each wrist had been bound with wide metal staples. Arching her legs beneath her, she struggled to push the staples free of the earth, but they had been driven far too deep; her arms were secure.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, her heart pumping with terror. Again she arched and with a growl, pressed with all her might against the staples. They did not budge.

Hot tears came to her eyes. She tossed her head, desperate to forget the rising panic that threatened to sweep away her reasoning altogether.

Then she felt it: an encroachment in the crisp mountain air, something drawing closer to her vulnerable, bound body. Her eyes darted this way and that, but for a moment she saw nothing except the shrubs against the bordering woods. Still, she heard what seemed like drawn breath. A second later something loomed forward out of the shadows from all directions about her. She saw silhouettes gathering over the untamed grass, figures that strode toward her.

She gasped and watched as one by one the circle of figures began to glow in their forming solidity, developing features and taking on proportion, depth, character. Men, women, donned in garments of whispery hues, they were smiling, some of them, with the most ethereal quality. They whispered among themselves, the soft sound striking a hammer of terror upon Gillian's heart. As they drew in on moonbeam-sandaled feet, Gillian felt the last reserve of calm abandon her. She screamed and closed her eyes and pressed against the staples until she felt the metal cut into her flesh.

At once the hush silenced, and she felt something descend over her. It was weighty, real, and smelled of a raw musk so thick and drugging that it suppressed her terror and replaced it with a mad, ripening lust.

She opened her eyes and looked into the masculine face of the being that had stooped and unveiled itself over her. He was fearsome, unearthly in his dimensions and the sienna eyes that glowed in the darkness. Even his skin glowed faintly green over lean muscles as smooth as a woman's, dappled with sweat, replete with the musk that played with her rationality.

The ends of his long hair tickled her face. Determined not to be seduced again, she tossed her head angrily. “Go away! Go away!”

The being looked to the other watchers, and his eyes narrowed at one in particular. “Is this not what you wish, Gillian—to know the ecstasy of perpetual desire?”

Gillian shivered at the voicing of her most private and dearest of fantasies. She followed his eyes and saw the figure of Madame Nevja among the encircling host—glowing and ethereal like the rest of them now, her face bright with assurance.

“Speak up, Gillian,” Nevja bade.

The being looked down at her, its great eyes thoughtful as he smoothed her damp cheek with his fingertips. “Is this as you wish, Gillian? Heed not any vow you may have made in haste. Open your heart to me, and know you shall come to no harm by the truth.”

Gillian trembled under his looming face, yet for all her fear, she imagined his large succulent mouth grazing over her sex.

“I—I—” Her voice faltered as for the first time she felt his naked cock crush against the V of her clenched thighs. It was proportional to the rest of his dimensions, and she wondered, without wanting to, just how well he could use it.

The musk thickened in her nostrils, and she saw a soft gleam of lust in his eyes.

His lips caressed her ear and he said softly, “You would have me pry your legs open and fuck you until dawn?”

Gillian's first thought was to dispute it, to tell this creature, whatever he was, that she would rather die than to allow herself to be used again. But as he moved up over her so that she could see his naked torso better, she knew it was self-deceit. They had frightened her, Nevja and her servant, by abducting her the way they had, forcing her to awaken stapled to the earth, naked and bound in the woods. She knew these beings were nothing close to human, and yet, if it had only been explained to her before—yes, she would have come willingly, if just for the unlikely but precious chance she would know a little moment of liberty from her mundane, predictable life.

“Yes—” she said thickly.

“Yes?”

As she looked into his eyes his features shifted…she saw not this beautiful, heavenly being, but Bruce Wolff. Sensual, formidable—and so powerfully human—Bruce Wolff. The image only remained a moment, but her body softened and quivered with passion. She nodded and glanced shyly at the others still watching.

“Yes,” Gillian whispered. “But must I be tethered to the ground?”

An answering smile graced his lips and he kissed her then, pressing her mouth open with his penetrating tongue. Her mouth quickened and her body flamed. He cupped her head to the side of his face and said, “Had Nevja been mistaken, we would never again have had this opportunity to see you so pleasingly laid out. And even though your opposition would free you, we are not ashamed to come away with at least an image of what we desire.”

Gillian was beginning to understand that she was safe for the moment, in a bizarre way, to be sure. She replied with a nervous titter, “But that is wicked.”

“No. That you do not believe,” he murmured. He kissed her again, this time his huge tongue plowing into her mouth, and with one hand he scooped her breasts together, heaving the nipples together, his fingers pressing into them delightfully, painfully. With his thumb he then massaged both nipples until they were stone-hard. Gillian moaned, further excited. With his other hand he forced her thighs apart and pressed her vulva open. His fingers ran up and down her pussy lips and he gently squeezed the clit. She felt her fluids pour over him and when his attention swayed to the cleft of her thighs, her clit throbbed again for attention. As if knowing this, he sat up suddenly, leaving her mouth craving his drilling tongue. He lifted her legs so that her bottom rose from the ground, and dividing her legs a little, draped his mouth over her vagina. His tongue invaded her there, parting the labia and crushing her clit. He suckled it roughly, then tenderly, lolling it back and forth under his tongue until Gillian knew an orgasm was close to bursting through her. But the next moment, he threw her legs open and set them about his waist. She saw his cock then, purplish and erect, inflexible as marble, and the size of it filled her with a delicious dread.

He entered her slowly, stretching her pussy with his cock, engorging the orifice. Watching an intense look sweep over her face and breasts, he began to thrust hard and quick, pounding her so thoroughly she feared her pussy would burst. She clenched her legs about his waist willingly, loving the savage fucking. At last, she exploded with such merciless rapture her shrill shriek pierced the air. His sweaty loins continued to grind upon her throbbing sex, but soon he stiffened and his seed exploded deep inside her.

Several moments later, he withdrew and lowered her legs back down to earth. Straddling her waist so that his softening cock lay against her lips, he said, “Cleanse me, Gillian.”

Eagerly, she sucked the dewy cum from the head of his organ, and the taste of it left a brilliant tang in her mouth.

He lowered himself down over her and kissed her lips. Gillian's thighs were hot and sore. Yet, she craved him again already, or, if not him, one of his companions, and the realization almost overwhelmed her.

“You are ordained,” he whispered and his tongue penetrated her mouth a moment. Then he rolled her over onto her left side so that her tethered right arm twanged with the stretch. She made a discomfited sound and tried to roll back over. He responded by giving a hard slap to her upturned buttock.

“Oww!” she cried, and wished she could rub the smarting throb.

“You will sleep now, Gillian,” he said and she felt him spread her buttocks. Again, a long slender waxen object was inserted inside her anus and, confused, she whimpered.

“No,” he said. He kissed her throat and suckled the flesh there. “It is not for the same reason as before, but rather to protect your sanity. Your soul will solace your body when the two are escorted into Nemi.”

Gillian frowned, uncertain of anything now except the electricity his mouth sent down her throat.

“Escorted,” she whispered and saw one of the other beings beaming down upon them, his or her face registering the same self-restrained lust Nevja had worn earlier. Pinned so helplessly in her nakedness, Gillian's face burned with a sweet shame. But she was feeling heavy-headed again, more rapidly now than earlier in the parking lot. She wanted to ask what or where Nemi was, but the next moment the question was lost, along with her consciousness.

 

The perfume of jasmine and pear blossoms wafted heavy through the air, waking Gillian to eye-smarting sunlight that shimmered through fruit-laden branches sprawling above her face.

The memory of her lusty ravisher flooded back even smarter. Sitting up, she was aware that her vagina was wetter than the dewy grass beneath her. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, seeing that she was in a lawn of thick, verdant grass. Everywhere budding fruit trees and flowers grew. Hearing gurgling water to her left, she looked and saw a fountain of stone. Water rained into it from the carved basket that rested on the shoulder of the nymph statue standing in the middle of the pool. Through the trees to the right, Gillian glimpsed the posts of an wrought iron fence. It was about the posts of this seemingly limitless fence the yellow blooms of jasmine grew.

Gillian wondered where he was, and only as she stood to look for him did she realize she was still naked. Her chest and breasts were still flushed with passion and his cum leaked down her aching thighs.

“Where are you?” she whispered. No response came, and she walked about on the velvety grass and searched the beautiful place.

Past the fountain she trod, and through a thick grove of fruit trees, until she reached a moss-strewn brick path hewn between two great avenues of monumental, sweeping-branched oaks. She thought she glimpsed the solid outline of a building up ahead, when suddenly two figures ran out before her: two young women as naked as herself but for gem-encrusted rings clamped to their nipples and leather cords lavished with jingling bells at their ankles. They giggled breathlessly behind their hands, but at seeing Gillian, their eyes widened and it seemed all they could do to keep their composure. The taller of the two, with disheveled, shining red ringlets bouncing over her shoulders, approached Gillian, leading the other, a brunette with pronounced dimples in her cheeks.

The redhead bit her bottom lip as if to stop the next burst of laughter. “What is your name?”

Gillian cleared her throat and eyed again the structure beyond.

“I-I am Gillian. Have you seen—” she stopped herself, at a loss for the name of the being who had recruited her. “I am looking for someone. A large man.”

The brunette giggled again behind her fingers. “It is pleasant to be tightly packed!”

The redhead studied Gillian thoughtfully. “I think she is a new arrival, Lara, and expecting to be met by Xaqriel.”

Lara's eyes sobered a little and she wiped away an amused tear. “Oh.”

The redhead said amicably. “I am Alexandra, this is Lara. You are a new arrival, Gillian? Brought here by a very large man with the most delicious smell?”

Gillian nodded and Alexandra's eyes scanned the boughs of the trees. “He brought me also. And he is here, though just where, none of us may know. I am surprised, however.” She frowned a little and mused, “Madam usually welcomes the new ones. But then again, she has probably had to meet with the guards concerning the fate of the escaped prisoners who were recaptured this morning.”

Lara grabbed her friend's arm and whispered into her ear, something that brought a gleam to Alexandra's blue eyes.

Nodding, Alexandra said, “Gillian, why don't you come with us? We can take you to Madam.”

Gillian was sure she was having one whopper of a hallucination brought on by whatever drug had been slipped into her anus. This place was unearthly, too beautiful to be real. But the being—that exquisite man—he had been real, of that she had no doubt.

“No,” she stammered, “I only want to find him.” She closed her eyes and took several slow, deliberate breaths. But when her eyes opened again, she was still standing on the avenue with its lush, pagan scenery.

Lara sighed indolently and took her arm. “But we only see our recruiters when they choose for us to see them! You cannot expect special consideration.”

Gillian tried to brush her away, but Alexandra suddenly clutched her other arm. Her hold was at once gentle and fervent.

“Come, Gillian, we can play a time!” Casting a heady smile to Lara, the two of them threw their arms about Gillian and lavished her face and shoulders with kisses.

Lara whispered, “It is not easy to steal away. Who knows when we may have this chance again?”