Ravaged by Them

Home > Romance > Ravaged by Them > Page 8
Ravaged by Them Page 8

by Kelli Callahan


  I really didn’t know what Weber did to land in the cell across from us, but I heard enough from the guards to know it had something to do with the two rich assholes that spent some time down the block from us. The news story filled in the gaps—said he did some shit to try and take over their company—and was possibly responsible for their brother’s death, which was previously believed to be a suicide. Then the lady on the screen mentioned that there was another suspect still at large—Hannah Clark.

  Wow, she went from not wanting to be found to helping Weber kill her own brother? Holy shit. Wait a second—Wyatt Jackson? That’s the asshole Weber asked me to take out. Fuck… I could have ended up in a fucking cell right next to him—and I would have actually deserved to be there.

  18 months ago

  “Alright, Sam. This is my last one. I’ll close out my tab.” I looked at the bartender and shook my empty glass.

  “You’re not staying until we shut the place down tonight?” He chuckled as he took my glass and the money, I laid on the counter.

  “Nah, I got a girl waiting back at my place—I think it’s going to be a special night.” I winked at him.

  “Have fun.” He waved as I started to stand.

  I intend to.

  I left O’Malley’s and started walking towards my car. I wasn’t very drunk, but I probably shouldn’t have been driving—not that it ever stopped me. Luckily, the house we rented was close enough to O’Malley’s Pub that I didn’t have to go very far. I was fumbling, with my hand in my pocket when a guy with a black baseball cap pulled down over his eyes approached me. My senses told me he was too close—nobody walked straight at someone on the South Side unless they were looking for a fight. I caught a glimpse of something shiny in his hand—a fucking knife. He lunged at me, but I quickly caught his hand and twisted his arm over with one quick snap of my wrist which caused the knife to hit the ground at my feet.

  “Reggie?” I stared at the man as he lifted his head and I saw his face. “What the fuck man?”

  “Brody—I’m sorry.” He had a panicked expression on his face. “I had to!”

  “Had to what? Drop your knife?” I kept his arm pinned and bent down to pick it up. “Give me one good reason to return it to you about ten times—blade first!”

  “Brody—please. I got a wife—she’s pregnant!” Tears started to form in the corner of his eyes.

  “Not my problem.” I jammed the knife into his ribs—not enough to actually penetrate, just enough to hurt. “Did Weber send you after me?”

  “Yeah—yeah, he’s pissed.” Reggie’s face twisted into a grimace. “He said you know too much! Either you work for him, or you…”

  “I have to die?” I finished his sentence and gave him enough of the blade to pierce his skin.

  “Please…” He started crying—fuck, he started bawling.

  “Reggie, the only reason I’m not pushing this knife deep enough to puncture your fucking liver is because I want you to deliver a message to Mr. Weber. Can you do that?” I tilted my head to the side.

  “Yeah—yeah I can do that.” Reggie nodded furiously.

  “Tell him that this is the only warning he’s going to get—and if he ever comes back to the South Side or tries to send one of his bitches after me, I’m going to snap his fucking neck.” I gave the knife a quick twist. “You got that message?”

  “Yes.” He grimaced.

  “Repeat it.” I twisted the knife in the other direction.

  Reggie didn’t miss a word, so I pulled the knife out of his skin and folded it closed.

  “Thank you, Brody. Thank you so much—I’m really sorry.” He started to run past me, but I caught his arm.

  “Hey Reggie.” I turned and looked into his eyes. “Don’t let me see you on the South Side again either—got it?”

  “Yeah—you won’t.” He nodded quickly, and I let go of his arm.

  Stupid mother fucker. I hope Weber cuts his losses here—either way, if I see that bastard again, he’s going to regret this.

  I got back to my place and Anabelle was already there with Rourke. They weren’t in the bedroom and they weren’t in the living room which meant only one thing—Rourke had finally decided to show her his playroom. I walked down the hall to the spare bedroom and saw a dim light peeking out from the cracked door. I looked inside before I entered and saw Anabelle strapped to the bench. Rourke was teasing her with one of his leather whips and judging by the way she was reacting when a lash got close to her pussy, she was fucking loving it.

  This should be fun.

  Anabelle

  18 months ago

  I had been going to the South Side for six months—always careful that my father didn’t know where I went. I just couldn’t get enough of Brody and Rourke, but it was Rourke that was running away with my heart. I hadn’t told him how I really felt—maybe I kept hoping it would be unsaid, or that he would say the words first. I was afraid of rejection—afraid that my I would find out it wasn’t reciprocated—and afraid that would bring what we had crashing down. I couldn’t stand the thought of that. What we had felt special and also rather taboo since it was a secret that I couldn’t share with anyone—even Samantha.

  Brody was the first one to really get rough with me and they both saw how much I liked it. Rourke was always kinder and gentler at first, but over time he started to display a side of himself that was just as rough. Then I found out that his dominance was deeper than what we did in the bedroom. He wanted me to call him Master. He wanted me to submit. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of being ordered around—that happened enough in my father’s world. I was willing to try though, mostly because I cared so deeply for Rourke. My willingness took center stage when I saw his playroom—and all of the things he wanted to use on me.

  “You’re going to strap me to this?” I let my fingers trace the wooden bench that had a leather top.

  “I am.” He nodded slowly. “Remove your clothes.”

  “Yes Master.” I giggled when I said those words—they still didn’t feel natural, I just did it because they turned him on.

  I took off my clothes and stretched out on the bench. It had cuffs for my wrists and ankles. I felt very vulnerable in that position and I was already getting wet—especially when he started dragging his fingers across my body—teasing the back of my thighs—getting extremely close to my pussy without actually touching me. He walked away for a moment and when he returned, he was holding a thin leather whip. The leather was braided and only about as long as his arm. It didn’t look like it would hurt very much, especially considering that Brody likes to spank me with the palm of his very large hand on a regular basis when he was taking me from behind.

  “Tonight, we’re going to do something different—something we’ve never done before.” He brought the whip along the surface of my skin and then I felt his hand on my ass. “You’re going to give us something you haven’t given us yet.”

  “What’s that?” I looked over my shoulder, then I felt his fingers push past my cheeks and press the one hole they had never asked for. “Oh no, I’m not doing that.”

  “You will…” The whip snapped against my ass. “Because every part of your body belongs to us.”

  “I’ve never had trouble pleasing both of you before—why do you want that?” I winced from the whip, but it wasn’t hard enough to actually hurt.

  “It’s a sign of your submission—your willingness to do anything we ask.” The whip snapped against my flesh again, a little harder than the first time.

  “Ow…” I wiggled my ass. “It doesn’t really—turn me on—the thought of doing that.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s about pleasing your Master.” He snapped the whip on my ass for the third time. “And in this case, you have two of them.”

  I didn’t feel very submissive. I felt like a girl strapped to a bench being whipped because the pain made me wet. Brody had already taught me that. The whipping continued, with Rourke giving me a chance to submit to wh
at he wanted each time it landed on my ass. Brody showed up, and he mostly just watched—letting Rourke do all of the real work. The whip started to sting and hurt after several minutes passed. I felt myself connecting with the pain and I felt myself letting go of the inhibitions that resisted him in the beginning. I was caving—but it wasn’t the pain that was doing it necessarily—it was knowing how much it made him want me—how much it made both of them want me.

  “Okay.” I squeezed my fists when a particularly hard lash from the whip landed near my pussy. “I’ll do it!”

  “See, how hard was that?” Rourke rubbed his hand along the spot on my ass where most of the whipping had occurred. “You’re going to make Brody very happy tonight.”

  “Damn right.” Brody walked over, and I felt his fingers exploring—pushing against the one hole that had never been fucked. “This is going to be nice and tight for me.”

  I would have preferred for Rourke to be the first one to fuck me in the ass—at least he would be gentle. I remembered how much it hurt when Brody took my virginity—and how amazing my second time was when Rourke took his place. It didn’t seem like I had much of a choice. Brody removed his clothes and I felt something sticky on my ass—lubricant for what he intended to do. He pushed a finger into my ass and started stretching me—getting it ready for his cock. All I could do was lay there and wait—wait for my next moment of agony when he finally penetrated it with something much larger than what was already making me ache.

  “You sure you don’t want to go first?” Brody lifted his hand and brought it crashing down on my ass, which was still stinging from the whip.

  SMACK!

  “Nah, there’s something else I can enjoy.” Rourke walked around and brushed his finger across my lips. “You’re ready to make me come, aren’t you princess?”

  “Yes, Master” I looked up at him and nodded.

  Rourke removed his clothes and I parted my lips to take him into my mouth. Brody pushed a second finger into my ass and made me whimper, but that was silenced by Rourke’s cock. Brody alternated between stretching my hole and spanking my stinging ass—each one a little harder than the one before it. Normally, I could take a spanking from him without protest, but if he spanked me as much as he normally did, my ass was going to be sore the next day due to the marks that the whip left behind.

  I felt Brody finally remove his fingers and hold my cheeks apart as his cock pushed between them. I braced for the agony and it came as soon as he started forcing it inside my tightest hole. Surprisingly, Brody was gentle. I didn’t expect that from him. I thought he would force his entire length in and start pounding me so hard the bench threatened to break considering what he did to me when we were in the bedroom. His kindness was appreciated, even if I couldn’t tell him because Rourke—my other Master—was using my mouth for his pleasure. Not that I minded, I had learned to really love doing dirty, filthy things for him.

  Maybe I’ll even love to be the girl on my knees for him too. I don’t know if I’ll truly like being ordered around, but I can beg and please—that part turns me on.

  Brody continued pushing his cock into my ass—giving me a few gentle thrusts to make it go deeper as he held my hips tightly. Rourke had started to throb in my mouth, especially when my lips were against his balls, so I knew it wouldn’t take him much longer to erupt. I was ready for it—just to feel his bliss on my lips. The whip had gotten me so wet that I could feel my lust all over the leather beneath my pelvis, and my pussy was begging for attention. I never imagined having two of them using my body for their own desires without even being able to come. The anticipation was killing me and the longer I waited, the more my pussy craved to be touched—fucked—anything but ignored.

  “Fuck—your mouth feels so fucking good.” Rourke let out a loud gasp.

  They have no idea what this is doing to me—or maybe they do. Maybe that’s the point. Take me to the height of unfiltered desire and never let me come—they’re fucking evil if that’s what submission is truly about.

  “So fucking tight…” Brody let out a loud grunt. “It feels amazing.”

  Rourke throbbed harder and then I felt him pulsate. Cum splattered into my throat and I started to swallow it, just like I had learned to do every time my mouth became the source of their pleasure. Once he was done, he pulled back and let me drain the last few drops from the head before his dick fell away from my lips. Then I just had Brody to satisfy—Brody who was almost as far in the ass as he could go—Brody who was making my tightest hole hurt for his pleasure. He pulled back and gave me a harder thrust—one that made his pelvis slam into my ass. He left his cock buried there for a moment and then started to thrust—slowly getting faster as the lubrication provided him what he needed to go deep each time.

  “You’re going to learn to love this,” Brody grunted. “I know I sure as fuck will.”

  SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

  “Ouch!” I whimpered and moaned.

  “Just like you’ve learned to love getting your ass spanked.” He chuckled and slammed his cock deep into me.

  Brody’s thrusts got even faster. The ache that had been present since the beginning began to fade. The difference between having the pain fade when he was inside my ass versus when he took my virginity was that there was no feeling of pleasure on the other side of it. I was just being used so he could get the release he craved. I felt the bench rocking, and then it began to vibrate. That did something—the motion and the vibrations made my clit immediately send a current of pleasure through my body. I chased the feeling, pressing my clit to the leather and trying to recreate the feeling. It wasn’t there—he wasn’t fucking me as hard as the singular thrust that made me squirm. I knew what I had to do—even though I was afraid I would regret it.

  “Harder…” I moaned. “Fuck me harder.”

  Brody responded without hesitation. He gave me thrusts that made the bench creak against the floor. The vibration from the bounce, the motion—the feeling of him going deep in my ass. It all started to feel good as long as my clit was against the leather. I started moaning louder, feeling the pressure build up inside me. I had been teased and deprived for so long that my entire body was ready for a release. I felt Brody throbbing inside me. He couldn’t come —not yet. I wasn’t there. I needed more. I used my own weight to rock the bench with his thrusts which caused my body to go forward and backward—meeting his balls so hard that the punished flesh on the surface of my ass really started to burn. I didn’t care. It was bringing me closer to bliss—so close I could almost taste it.

  “Oh god!” I threw my head back and screamed. “I’m gonna come!”

  My body erupted in euphoria. I felt Brody began to throb harder. He definitely wasn’t expecting me to come —it sent him over the edge immediately. Hot cum spewed into my ass—each pulsation sending more of his seed deep into my tightest hole. It felt amazing and I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted him to keep going. I rocked the bench a few more times, forcing more of the amazing bliss to flood my veins with endorphins. The spasms finally began to settle. A sense of relief swept across me. Brody began to slowly withdraw—gently removing his cock as it slid backward—then he was gone.

  Maybe I’m going to like being a submissive girl for them after all.

  Rourke

  Present day

  The last thing Brody said to me echoed in my head as I walked outside the cabin and stared at the tranquil scene in front of me. Why didn’t my time in jail change me? Why did I hold onto to what I had with Anabelle so fiercely, even after she betrayed me? She didn’t deserve anything less than absolute hate. Maybe I just loved her too much to let go—even when she turned on me and did the one thing a submissive woman would never do—walked away from her Master. I knew why, and that was my fault—giving in to lust instead of forging the relationship the way that it should have been done. I had a chance to change that, but I didn’t have long. If she was ever going to be mine, I had to truly break her.

  I walked back i
nside and went into the bedroom. She had been tied up on the bed for a long time. Inside, I was eaten up by the sight of her suffering. She hadn’t eaten—hadn’t even been given a drink of water—yet she hadn’t asked for it either. The punishment she got was all she desired, and I didn’t even really think she deserved to have that. I walked over and sat down next to her—her eyes opened slowly. There was pain behind them—I hoped it was the right kind of pain. I reached over and pulled the gag free, but I didn’t do it gently.

  “Do you want me again?” Her eyes begged me to say yes.

  “No.” I shook my head back and forth. “You have nothing I really want—just something I had to have after being without for so long.”

  “Isn’t there a punishment brutal enough to earn your forgiveness.” She crawled over the best that she could and laid her head on my lap.

  “What would you do to have it?” I reached down but hesitated when I felt the desire to stroke her hair—I couldn’t show her that kind of affection.

  “Anything…” I heard desperation in her voice.

  “Then tell the truth.” I looked down at her and exhaled sharply. “Tell the police who killed your father’s business partner.”

  “I—I can’t.” Her eyes closed shut and there were tears in the edges of them.

  “You said anything,” I growled under my breath. “There’s no limit to that word—you can’t change the meaning to suit your sense of duty towards your father.”

  “Anything else.” She swallowed hard. “Why can’t we run away? The three of us—or just the two of us.”

  “Do you remember when I told you my dreams—the night I said I loved you?” I felt my eyes trying to water, but I blinked it away.

  “You said you wanted to get out of the South Side—get married one day—have a family.” She nodded as she repeated the words I said.

 

‹ Prev