by Izzy Slam
“You aren’t the only one who’s gotten lost. The trail markers have faded over the years. I’ve come across too many others on my property. And honestly, you shouldn’t have been out there alone in the first place.”
I can’t believe I’m telling her this, given the rage I felt when I initially saw her in the river and assumed she was a man. There’s a tenderness, an innocence about her that’s making me soft.
“How …” she stops and clears her throat. “How many others have there been?”
“Plenty, why?”
I find her question odd. But it suddenly occurs to me that she must assume that I held all of them hostage.
She has no idea how special she is.
“Did you … did they…?”
“Did I bring them here? No. You’re the only one I’ve wanted to keep safe.”
She stabs her lower lip with her teeth and floats her gaze to my mouth.
“My mom will come looking for me, you know. The cops, everybody.”
I can’t help but smile. “So, let them. I’m not forcing you to stay here. Besides, I think we both know … you belong to me.”
She clenches her jaw. “I don’t belong to anyone. I’m a person. Not a … thing.”
I have to hold back the chuckle on that one. Her feistiness is making me hard. “Oh, believe me. I’m well aware of the fact that you are a person—a very warm-blooded female, in fact. That orgasm you gave me a while ago is proof of that. But know this.” I lean forward, inching my face close to hers. “That body of yours, and everything on it, belongs to me as long as you are under my roof. In fact, why don’t you just go ahead and start calling me ‘daddy’ so you can get used to the idea of having a man take care of you in all the ways a man should.”
Chapter Three
Chastity
I should stab this crazy fucking psychopath with the knife I’m holding right now. Expecting me to call him ‘daddy?’
Is he out of his mind?
He must be for thinking he can keep me here and demand that I call him that. It’s bad enough I let myself cum earlier, that I let his hands control that part of me.
And yet…. here I am, feeling those hot ripples of desire swim through my center, making me weak. Making me want it again.
He told me he wouldn’t hurt me. But it seems as though I’m just a pawn to meet his sick, sexual needs. And the thought of that makes my pussy quiver, no matter how much I try to deny it.
Because when it comes down to it, I’m a failure at controlling my own fucking body.
I stare at his rugged face, trying my damnedest to avoid the pull of his stare and the desire brewing within. I think about all the possible ways he might want to “take care of” me—his hands on my body as he demands I refer to him as ‘daddy’—and it makes my sex swell.
No. I refuse to play along. I won’t get sucked into this. He has to let me go at some point. He can’t keep me here forever. I’ll eventually get sick and need to go to the doctor. Or something like that.
“You’re not my daddy so I’m not calling you that,” I say, refocusing my attention on the steak I haven’t finished. “You can forget it.”
“We’ll see,” he chuckles, like this is some kind of game to him.
We finish our meal in silence, which I’m grateful for. He asks if I want dessert afterwards and I start to tell him no, but then the thought of passing up something sweet seems pretty stupid.
“What do you have?” I ask.
“Ice cream. I could make a sundae or a milkshake for us?” The tone of his voice goes up a little, making him seem soft around the edges if only for just a moment.
“I could probably choke down a sundae,” I say.
His mouth curls up in a warm smile. “Good. Why don’t you get the dishes in the dishwasher, and I’ll get our desserts made.”
Feeling my reserves melt away, I clean up as best I can while my captor starts pulling toppings and syrup out of the fridge. Before dropping the knives in the basket, I turn to look at him, his back to me, thinking how easy it would be to put an end to this right now. He’s says he’s not forcing me to stay here, but how do I know that’s true?
I don’t think I could actually kill him, though. As in, stab him in the chest. I could stab him somewhere else, but I honestly don’t know where. I mean, what if I hit a major artery? Or cut the ducts connecting the liver to the intestines?
High school anatomy comes rushing back to me, and I shudder.
That I’m even thinking about this.
That I even have to think about this.
I can’t do it. Not unless he comes at me with the intention of harming me.
I drop the knives in the basket right as he spins my way.
“Chocolate or caramel?”
“Both,” I say, offering a shrug.
He fills two bowls with ice cream, squirting syrup and scraping the sides of the jar as he spoons sticky walnuts on top, followed by whipped cream spraying from the can. I wipe my hands on a towel as he carries the bowls to the table.
“Grab a few spoons, would ya?”
I open several drawers before I find the silverware. When I join him at the table, he’s giving me a look. I don’t know how to describe it but it’s almost as if I’m the sundae and he wants to eat me.
I pass him a spoon and sit down, and I have to admit the sugar makes me momentarily giddy. I keep glancing his way, watching his lips wrap around the spoon and his hands, so rugged and huge against the bowl.
Fuck.
I should be demanding he take me to my car, despite any potential dangers out there. But the truth is, I find myself preoccupied with …him.
“What’s your name?”
He pauses, rolling some caramel on his tongue before answering. “Slade.”
“Slade,” I echo. “I assume you live here alone?”
He flicks his eyes at me. “Yes. Gleefully.”
Great. He’s antisocial. I chew on a walnut with my front teeth for a second. “You don’t … have a girlfriend?”
He belts out a laugh. “No. I don’t have time for that.”
“Time? For a girlfriend?”
He pushes the bowl aside. “Maybe ‘time’ isn’t the right word. I just don’t want to be bothered with a relationship.”
And yet, here I am. He’s bothering himself with me, semi-coercing me to stay. He doesn’t see the disconnect, or maybe he plans to get rid of me soon.
The thought makes me shudder. I try to think of something to say to separate myself from the others that he’s possibly brought here, even though he claims I’m the only one he’s wanted to keep.
That could very well be a lie.
In fact, can I trust anything he says?
He gives me a weary glance, licking his lips as his gaze brushes over my face. “Why do you ask such a personal question? You’re not trying to get inside my head, are you?”
His question surprises me. “No, of course not. I’m just making conversation. That’s all.”
“Well. That’s not your job. I’ll ask the questions. I’ll make the conversation. You do as you’re told.”
He stands from the table, taking our bowls to the sink before leading me back to the basement and closing the door behind me. I stare at it for several seconds, hoping he’ll change his mind. But he doesn’t.
“I’ll be back for you in a while. I need to get washed up.”
I don’t hear him push a chair under the doorknob, but I still make my way downstairs and curl up on the bed with the blanket, angry that I had to be so damned nosy.
***
Several hours later, I hear the twist of the knob, heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. My pulse quickens, and when he reaches the floor, he curls a finger at me.
Taking me by the hand, he leads me upstairs to his room, sitting on the edge of the bed as he pulls me between his legs and runs his rough hands under my shirt, up my sides. My face warms, the heat rippling across my flesh and spreading to every cell in my body. He stares at my
breasts, watching as my nipples pucker into hard points.
My breathing quickens as he tugs the shirt up and yanks it over my head. My hair falls down my shoulders, covering my chest. His fingers brush it aside, moving to my back and pulling me closer to him. His lips wrap around one of my buds, and I immediately feel his tongue flick along the sensitive flesh.
I huff and clench my fists as he moves to the other breast, the hairs of his beard poking me like soft needles. Heat floods my insides and the dampness spreads between my legs. Hooking his thumbs inside the waist of my shorts, he slides them down my hips with ease until they fall to my ankles. I’m suddenly aware of how vulnerable I am right now, and the lust in his eyes, the way he’s looking at me makes me feel desired.
I’ve never felt desired. I don’t have sexy curves and huge breasts. I’m just an 18-year-old virgin with flat … everything. But apparently, given the way he’s looking at me, this is what Slade goes for.
He grips the small amount of padding over my hips, giving me a squeeze as he moves down, caressing my outer thigh while pointing his gaze between my legs. My hands naturally float to his shoulders. And even through his thick cotton shirt, I can feel his strength.
I lick my lips, frightened of what he will do. I feel I should tell him I’ve never done anything like this before in the hopes that it will deter him from taking the only bit of innocence I have left. But before any words can escape my lips, he’s pushing me back several feet and undoing his pants, causing me to pull in a rush of air.
My palms break out in a sweat as he tugs down his zipper and releases himself—his shaft a long, hard, throbbing rod of steel. He pulls off his shirt, and I’m breathless at his chest—rippled with muscles and hair.
He reaches out for me, and when I slip my hand in his, he pulls me down to my knees where I’m eye level with his cock. He grips the base and clear fluid pulses out.
“Tell daddy you want to suck his cock.”
Heat courses through my veins, and my stomach tightens. “I … I want to suck your cock,” I mumble, feeling embarrassed.
“I didn’t hear you say the magic word,” he grunts, running his fingers through my hair.
I look up into his piercing brown eyes, and the command within his stare, knowing he won’t back down until I tell him what he wants to hear. I part my lips and dig deep to find the courage to say it. “I want to suck daddy’s cock.”
With a throaty growl, he guides me by the back of the head to his length.
And with a trembling breath, I open my lips and take him in my mouth, tossing my hands up to the tops of his legs. His thick, salty desire smears along my tongue as he pushes my head down, forcing his erection to the back of my throat and eliciting a gag.
His length throbs, grows harder, and he growls above me, the hungry sounds of his voice making me leak with desire and my nipples prick with need.
I have no idea how to suck him off since I’ve never done this before, but as he begins a slow upward thrust, I find my head bobbing in sync with him, my chin bumping into the jeans he’s still wearing. I swirl my tongue around the ridge of tissue at the tip, noticing that each time I come around more salty fluid leaks out. A moan comes up, uncontrollable as it escapes my throat.
His fingers tighten in my hair, tugging until my scalp burns but also pushing me down, forcing him deeper. Saliva pools out past my lips, dripping in a thick string. His shaft grows harder as his voice rumbles deeper. I can feel the spongy veins pulsing as he lengthens. And right as I swirl my tongue along the root, he pulls on my hair, popping the seal I have on him.
Gripping the base of his cock and pumping his fist softly, he shoots out a long whitish-gray stream of fluid that lands on his stomach. I catch my breath as I take in the full sight of his orgasm—the way his lower abs clench and release, his intense growling, the way his length bobs with each spurt of fluid, and as my eyes travel upward, I notice that he’s watching me, feeding off the way I’m looking at him.
My heart hammers inside my chest, my pussy a dripping mess as he angles his manhood in my direction. I lean forward and wrap my lips around his girth, tasting his earthy liquid as one more burst of cum pulses out.
“God,” he groans.
His cock twitches several times as I roll my tongue along the underside, and then I feel as he starts to go soft.
I’m not sure how it happens so fast, but he pulls me up off the floor into a standing position. I watch as he allows his jeans to fall to the floor. Without having a single moment to process what’s happening, he lifts me up and into his arms before sitting back down on the bed, my legs folded at the knees and feet dangling off the edge of the bed.
I feel his cock pulse against the entrance to my pussy, rising as it becomes hard again. He leaves a trail of kisses along my breasts, and my nipples pucker in response again. His tongue seems to worship the hardened buds, leaving me aching from the inside out. I can’t help but dig my nails into the flesh of his shoulders.
His breath hits my flesh as my heart pounds harder, faster, and my pussy swells with desire, leaving me more confused than ever. Why is my body responding to him this way? He’s taking what he wants, and I’m helpless to stop him.
Yet I don’t want to.
Shouldn’t I want to?
Fingers navigate to my sex, softly probing my wet folds. As the tip of his pointer makes a path from my drenched slit to my swollen clit, I gasp right as he vocalizes his arousal—deep and throaty.
His free hand glides up my back and tugs at my hair. “You’re enjoying this as much as I am,” he grumbles, teasing my pearl in agonizing circles.
I bite my lower lip, not wanting to admit how right he is.
“And as much as you try to hide it, I can feel how badly you want this, to cum at the hands of your daddy,” he adds, pushing one of his fingers delicately inside my swollen tunnel.
I groan and roll my hips forward as he wraps his lips around the bud of my left breast. But the second he meets the resistance of my innocence, he freezes, sinking his teeth into my flesh and making me gasp again.
He releases his bite and pulls his finger out, tugging on my hair once more. “You’re a virgin?”
I nod, my cheeks blooming in heat.
A rumble comes from his throat, a low growl that indicates his primal urges. His cock twitches between my legs again, and my breath quickens, not sure how he is going to react at this point, how rough he will get.
He lies on his back and lifts me up by the hips like I’m nothing more than a ragdoll. And I swiftly cross over his abs, his chest, and his beard, where he promptly sets me down. I throw my hands over his for balance, but they slide up my sides, finally settling under my arms as his tongue delves between my folds.
“Oh god,” I moan, feeling dizzy from the intensity of it all.
His beard is scruffy against my lips, and my moans are echoed by his as his tongue comes out and finds my clit.
I purr and lean forward, letting my hands fall to a pile of pillows directly above his head. I can feel his nose buried in my tuft of hair, and for a moment, I wonder if he can breathe. But with the noises he’s making, I don’t think he’s having any trouble.
My god, it feels so good that I can’t help but tremble as he licks me, bringing me to the edge of orgasm in no time. But before I can cum, he sinks his fingers into the flesh of my hips and lifts me up ever so slightly, sinking his teeth softly into my labia and distracting me from cumming too soon.
“Mmmmm,” I moan, feeling my body ride that wave.
I arch my back and slowly start to grind my hips as his hands caress my bottom. He returns to my clitoris, flicking rapidly as his hands move over my skin. I grind and thrust, rolling my pelvis in smooth circles as he brings me to the edge again, only to withdraw his touch and give me a quick but hard slap on the ass.
I yelp and tighten my grip on one of the pillows, the sting making my nipples tighten and my pussy throb.
“Please,” I beg, feeling like I will lose
my mind if he doesn’t allow me the release.
He only offers a throaty laugh before returning to the delicious torture of bringing me the burning pleasure of his tongue.
He torments me like this for a while, licking and delicately sucking my most tender, swollen bump until I get right there, only to stop and either bite my thigh or slap the globes of my ass, until finally …finally … he allows me to soar off that cliff.
I sit up and arch my back, reaching around to my lower back for his hands because I just need to feel his roughness laced against my fingers when my body erupts. His fingers press into my flesh, and I am throttled over the edge, my veins filled with flames of lust as I scream out in pleasure.
“Fuck!” I buck my hips, grinding my pussy on his beard as I am rocked from head to toe, the orgasm so intense I feel like I could almost lose consciousness.
I close my eyes, but all I can see are bright colors bursting through the darkness. His hands roam my body, holding me as I convulse and shiver. He finally settles on my breasts, sucking my clit past his lips for that final moment of torture as my orgasm begins to subside.
When I am nearly out of breath, he lifts me up slightly, forcing me to dismount his face. He then sits up and wraps an arm around my waist before pulling me into his arms to lie down.
And all I can think is what the hell just happened?
Slade
I hold Chastity’s body close to mine, feeling the warmth flow between us. Her rhythmic breathing makes me wonder if she’s fallen asleep, but when she stirs and turns her head in my direction, I realize she’s just that relaxed.
I don’t say anything, but I do nudge my pelvis against her bottom as my cock begins to stir. She arches her back, and I hug her tighter, letting my hand move to her breast and pressing my fingertips along her nipple.
It hardens at my touch, forcing my vocal cords to rumble uncontrollably. “Arch that back a little more and you will surely awaken the beast.”
“I thought I had already done that,” she says, her voice low and soft.
My lips pull apart in a smile that she can’t see. I catch a whiff of her scent—sweet and a little musky from sweating.