by His Slave
Gathering the skirt in one hand, he lifted it over her hips and tightened it around her waist. Only one hand remained between her legs, but it was enough. Everything. A fingertip promising the world simply by lightly stroking her labia. Shuddering, she jerked away only to sag back against him.
“Do you see the other women being hunted?” he asked.
“No.” Oh, shit, shit! “But I hear them screaming. Then their screams end, and they start moaning.”
“Why?”
His fingertip continued its assault on her pussy and sanity. “I ... don’t know.”
“Is it that or because this”—thumb and forefinger encompassed a labial lip and drew it down—“is distracting you?”
“Oh, God, I can’t ...”
“Yes, you can. Concentrate on your fantasy. Don’t think about what I’m doing to you.”
Nearly laughing at the impossible-to-obey command, she noted that her legs had slid apart. “You really like jerking me around, don’t you, playing with me.”
“What I like is taking both myself and a sub into a new space. Continue. I want to hear all about what happens when you’re inside that fence.”
“I’ve never told—it’s my fantasy, my secret.”
The drag on her sex relaxed a little. “Tonight it belongs to both of us, Cheyenne.”
“All right. Oh, God ... It doesn’t hurt to run, and I love the way the wind feels on my body. My hair is long, nearly down to my waist. I don’t have makeup on, no manicure. It’s just me, primitive. Me against whoever is pursuing me.”
“You’re about to be captured,” he said seductively, still intimately holding on to her. “You hear the footsteps behind you. Whoever is after you is faster, stronger, laughing because it turns him on to drive you to the ground.”
Yes, yes! “I won’t make it easy for him!” The fingers working her trapped sex lip released it. Guessing what he intended to do next helped not at all. The instant a wet finger entered her, she gasped and rose onto her toes.
“Go on. Leave nothing out.”
“I can’t—God damn you, you know I—”
“Yes, you can!” His finger, now bent, raked the front of her channel. Her G-spot! “You’ve been milking this fantasy for years. You know it as well as you know which side of the bed you get out on.” A second touch punctuated his words.
“Stop! Please, stop!”
“If that’s what you really want, say your safe word.”
Hell no!
“All right, damn you.” The invading finger stilled, allowing her a measure of thought. “I hear a sound, something whistling. Suddenly a lasso settles around me. It tightens, trapping my arms against my sides. I’m being pulled back. Off my feet. Landing on the ground.”
“You’re stunned,” he muttered. “Maybe you black out. By the time you can think again, a man is standing over you, laughing and planting his foot on your back to keep you down. You know it’s over. You’ve lost, he’s won.”
Even as her pussy leaked and her nipples knotted, she realized he’d pulled out of her. Robbed of the impending release she craved, she again dove into her imagination for the trigger that might throw her over the top.
“No, it’s not over. My becoming his captive is just beginning.”
“But first he needs to secure you. How does he do it?”
She could answer. After all, she’d spent countless nighttime hours spinning the details.
“I try to turn over, but I can’t because his foot keeps me on the ground. He keeps the rope tight so I can’t use my arms. When I stop struggling, he slaps my ass. Furious, I redouble my efforts. He waits until I’m exhausted. Then he kneels beside me and ties off the rope. Using the loose end, he secures my wrists.”
“Like I did the other night.”
“Yes,” she admitted, no longer able to focus on the mountaintop photograph. Her muumuu was so tight around her waist that in her mind it became rope. She’d never needed a cock in her more, Mace’s cock. “That’s when he turns me over.”
“What does he look like?”
“I don’t know.” She laughed. “That’s the one part of this whole thing I can’t control. Maybe I don’t care.” Maybe I was waiting for you.
Unnerved by the thought, she tried to escape Mace’s grasp only to have him haul her tight against him. “Safe word time?” he asked.
“No! Damn it, you’re going to be disappointed if you think you’ll get logic from me tonight.” Forcing herself to relax, she again noted the pulled-back bed covering. In anticipation of a night of sex?
“That’s good to know, not that I expected different. So, your captor has placed your weight on your bound arms. It would take a lot of effort on your part to get to your feet now. Does he want you to?”
“Not yet.” So undone she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand, she welcomed Mace’s sex-drenched hand on her hip.
“Why not?”
Think, damn it. “He wants to make sure I can’t get free. There’s ... he has another rope. Kneeling, he places it around my neck and knots it. It won’t tighten any more, but I can’t slip free. When he’s done, he manhandles my breasts. It hurts and yet...”
“And yet you’re turned on.”
Nodding, she went in search of what she might say next, but trying to separate imagination from reality was beyond her.
“You’re giving up control to this man.” He spoke for her. “Bit by bit, self-determination is being taken away.”
“Yes.”
“But even as you masturbate to climax while spinning things out in your mind, something’s lacking, isn’t it?”
Although she tried to concentrate, his heat and the insistent pressure of his cock splintered her mind.
“What is it?” A slick hand glided over her hip bone. “I’m getting closer to the truth than you want to admit?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Go to hell.”
“Undoubtedly. Okay, time to shake things up a bit.”
13
Releasing the woman who was too close to crawling under his skin, Mace pondered if he’d made a fatal mistake with what he’d just told her. Then she faced him, and although her dress slid back over her hips, he fought the urge to throw himself at her and knock her to the ground as her fantasy captor had done.
It would be so damn easy, so satisfying! To hell with rules and regulations. Piss on the self-control he always held tight to. Cheyenne needed a fierce and dominating master. He could be that man. Needed to be.
Rio trusted her.
“Tonight’s about you,” he told her when that was the last thing he wanted to say. “Pushing your limits.”
“I know.” She struggled to meet his gaze.
“How can you? You don’t know what I have in mind.”
“Why are you doing this?” she snapped, straining to free her wrists. “Is that how you operate, by playing word games?”
“You’re the one who makes her living manipulating words, not me.” He forced a smile. Suspecting he’d regret it, he unfastened his jeans but left the zipper in place. “My expertise lies in another direction.”
Judging by the way she shifted from one leg to another, energy was building inside her. The same energy coursed through him, causing his cock to fight its prison and compel him to cradle it. Her attention locked him.
“Wish you were the one doing this?” he asked.
She licked her lips. “Would you let me?”
“Not now.” Because I know what would happen.
“But maybe later?”
The way she lifted her chin said she was tapping into him, something he refused to let a woman do. Narrowing his gaze and concentrating on not blinking, he waited until she lowered her head.
“Kick off your sandals,” he ordered. She did so without looking at him.
Spurred by what she’d said about imagining she had long hair, he stepped into her space and took hold of the short strands.
She tried to pull away, then stopped. After a moment, he pulled down, forcing her to bend over. The ridiculously loose dress billowed out. Seeing no reason not to, he ran his free hand up under the fabric until he reached her dangling breasts. Capturing the one closest to him, he hauled her, stumbling, over to the chair that held his discarded clothing.
Sitting down while maintaining his hold on her hair and breast was far from the most graceful movement he’d ever executed, not that he figured she was paying much attention. Her breathing sounded strangled.
“We’re going to go back into your mind, your imagination,” he told her. “But first ...”
Positioning her so she was on her knees and bent over his thighs called for letting go of her breast, which he hadn’t wanted to do. Both breasts now pressed against the outside of his leg, and he didn’t know what would be better, the safety of his jeans between them or the sweet pressure of her breasts on his naked thighs.
The dresser was close enough that he was able to retrieve what he wanted without having to dislodge her. From the way she tried to twist her upper body, he knew she wanted to see what he’d chosen, but she’d find out soon enough. For now he placed the toy next to him on the chair.
Grasping the links between her wrists, he lifted her arms so her upper body no longer rested on him. Her head hung down and she panted, distracting him. Mindful of the strain on her shoulders, he hauled up on the stupid dress until he’d wadded it under her armpits. After making sure her breasts were exposed, he let her down.
“What are you going to do?”
She sounded lost, not afraid, just off balance. Exactly how he wanted her. “Have you forgotten? Tonight’s about taking you to the next level.”
“Which is what, Mace? Please—”
He slapped her naked and inviting ass, the sharp sound echoing through the room. “No questions, got it? The only thing you need to do is experience.” Punctuating his comment with another slap, this one on her opposite ass cheek, he pushed on the back of her head and forced it down.
Although he knew what he intended to do and was eager to experience her response, he studied her. The line of her spinal column captured his attention, and he trailed a finger over the bones. She whimpered but didn’t try to wiggle free.
“We were talking about what turns you on,” he said, relaxing the pressure on the back of her head. “Speaking is difficult for you now, and pretty soon it’s going to be impossible.” Releasing her head, he lightly massaged the faint red splotches he’d left on her buttocks.
“Oh, God, oh, God.”
“There’s no deity in here.” And if there is one, he doesn’t know I exist. “No one coming to your rescue—just like when you were hunted down and roped.”
When she caught her breath, he took that as proof that she was sinking back into her make-believe world. Fine. He’d help her bring it to life.
“You’re still on your back, your arms helpless like they are now.” He lifted them for emphasis, then went back to memorizing her spine. “With a rope knotted around your throat. Your captor is just about ready to take you to his camp, only one thing left to do.”
Wise in the art of anticipation, he fell silent and started slapping her ass cheeks again, one followed by the other, falling into the rhythm. At first she lay still and submissive over him, but as he put more and more effort behind the punishment, she started squirming.
Her buttocks were changing color, blood coming to the surface. Continuing the pace that vibrated through her and came out centered around his cock, he ground his fist into the small of her back.
“A gag,” he said, because if he didn’t distract himself, he’d throw her on the bed and spread her. “Made from rags and stuffed in your mouth, more rags knotted to keep everything in place. Now you’re silenced, isolated.”
“Yes,” she moaned, writhing against his thighs.
“Being locked inside yourself turns you on.” Cupping his hand, he slapped her again, making her flesh shake.
“Damn you!”
“No question about that.”
Seeing his fingertips imprinted on her ass sent flames through him. It took everything he had not to change from dom to bastard. Somewhere deep inside a remnant of his upbringing lived. The helpless boy he’d been raged, on the brink of leaping into hell and taking whoever was with him down with him.
Fighting the boy he loved as much as he feared, he stroked Cheyenne’s abused flesh.
“Tell me, when I spanked you, what did it feel like?”
“It hurt, damn it!”
Grunting, he ran his hand between her legs. As he expected, her pussy was drenched. In fact, moisture was seeping through his jeans. “Do you always get turned on when you’re being punished? How did you explain that to your parents?”
“What? They never spanked me.”
“Never?”
“No need when a lecture cut me in half.”
Sensing she’d just scratched the surface of something important, he swiped his sticky finger over her asshole. Another man might ask her to explain further, to unburden herself, but hell if he’d go there tonight. Or any night.
“Your captor has been staying at a hunting camp surrounded by evergreens.” He picked up the toy and ran it down her spine. “He wants to get you there by dark and is looking forward to when it’s just the two of you and no one will ever know what he’s doing.”
“Am ... I afraid of him?”
“Yes, but that’s coupled with excitement. You don’t know what to expect as he hauls you to your feet. Just as you resign yourself to being dragged behind him, you learn he has one more trick up his sleeve.”
With that, he rested the blood-red butt plug on the small of her back and lubricated her puckered opening with the juices rolling out of her. Her breath became more ragged, and she ground herself against his leg. His cock was on fire, a hurting, demanding force.
When he pushed past the tight ring of flesh, she arched, her nearly useless fingers reaching for the plug. “No! It’s too big. I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. All you need to do is relax.”
“Relax? Are you out of your mind?”
“That’s possible. You know what’s expected of you, slave, the pleasure that’ll accompany your obedience.” He slapped her buttocks. “Did I give you permission to talk? Focus on what I’m doing to you, nothing else.”
Turning her head from side to side, she started shaking. Having her head hang down had to make her dizzy, but then he didn’t want her clearheaded. “You have no choice but to stand watching as your captor secures the lead rope around a tree. You’re stuck there. Things are going to happen you have no control over; nothing else is important.”
Certain his words had gotten to her, he placed the bulb end of the butt plug against her opening.
“He has another rope, one you didn’t notice before. He holds it in front of you, laughing as he does. You take an involuntary step back. The rope around your neck tightens, stopping you.”
She was relaxing a little, responding to his hypnotic tone. Although maybe he should have taken her further into her personal zone before doing what he’d intended from the moment he’d invited her here, eagerness spurred him on.
“Your captor kneels before you and starts wrapping a rope around your ankle.” Holding his breath, he pushed on the plug. It met resistance. Her trembling intensified. “You try to shake off the rope, but he threatens to whip you, so you stop and let him hobble your legs.”
Taking hold of an ass cheek, he pulled it aside. Her rear hole opened a little, and when he pushed again, the toy’s head slipped in.
“Oh, shit!” Lifting her head, she tried to look back at him. Her toes curled, and her calf muscles knotted.
“Perhaps not the best choice of words,” he pointed out. Hopefully she knew the plug’s flared end ensured it wouldn’t slide all the way in her.
When she kept straining to see what he was doing, he released her cheek and took hold of her cuffs. Lifti
ng up, he again raised her arms and forced her head down.
“Not much to see like this, is there?” he observed. “Nothing to do except experience.” He made his point by pushing the plug as far as it would go. “And listen. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, your legs are now tied so you’re forced to shuffle along. Your captor leads you to a trail you’ve never seen before. Much as you want to, you don’t dare look around because you might fall. He wants you to walk faster than you can. You start sweating. The insides of your thighs are getting chafed because you can’t separate your legs. The bottoms of your feet are bruising, and the ropes rub. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get him to understand that you’re in pain, but maybe the truth is, he doesn’t care.
“Does your imagination ever take you there?” he asked. “Your master is a cruel man. To him, you’re nothing but a piece of meat, maybe something to sell for as much as he can get.”
Mace’s words swirled around Cheyenne. She was drowning in them, sinking deep into a place she’d never been. Blood pressing on her temple contributed to her confusion, but there was another kind of pressure taking place, an invasion of her body she’d only contemplated before.
No modesty left, no control over the most intimate of parts. Her bung hole was full, invaded. Fighting the loss of self-control, she again tried to straighten, only to have him force her back down. In truth, she didn’t care. This way everything was his responsibility. She could only experience. Listen.
“Your captor intends to sell you,” Mace said. The pressure in her rectum was both relentless and fascinating. “But first he plans to train you. A subservient sex slave is valuable, and he knows how to turn you into one. He could simply let you imagine what he has in mind, but the bastard wants to see you sweat and hear you beg. What about the two of us, Cheyenne? Are you going to beg me to stop?”
The plug started twisting inside her, confusing her. Then splintered parts of her mind reconnected, and she realized he’d thoroughly lubricated her back there so the plug would move freely. Her pussy clenched, demanded more.
“Losing focus, are you?” He slapped her ass. “I asked a question. Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”