by Vonna Harper
The vehicle stopped. She tried to think how long they’d been traveling, not long. Surely they weren’t already at their destination.
“She should be grateful we’re getting rid of that hunk of junk she drives,” one of the men said. Was that Reno? “She should report it stolen and collect the hundred bucks the insurance agency would give her.”
“Too bad that isn’t going to happen.”
A door opened. Someone got out. Moments later she heard what she thought was her vehicle start up. Then the one she was in began moving again. Desperate to stay sane, she worked at making sense of what had just happened. One of the men was taking her car someplace. They had her cell phone.
What about where she lived? Would she ever see her paintings again? Could they make her disappear?
Terror slammed into her. She tried to lift her head, but the horrible rope dug into her neck. They’d left her with her shoes on the floor and her knees bent, her feet secured as her neck had been. The log she felt wedded to stuck out on either side and the ends dug into the flooring every time she tried to move. Her back was arched and her shoulders bore the weight of her upper body.
Yoked. Like some plodding ox.
As the miles and minutes fell away she changed her mind about being yoked but didn’t know what else to call what they’d done to her.
Despite the endless waves of fear, she had no choice but to face her future. They might intend to kill her—after first raping her. She’d go down fighting, somehow. Make them sorry they’d—
But what if this wasn’t about rape and death?
A masculine voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She realized Damek was talking on a cell phone.
“The collection couldn’t have gone smoother. No, no resistance at all. Well, of course, that’s to be expected, but we had her restrained before she’d recovered enough to try. Yes, that indeed is one of the benefits of having a chemist on staff. I’d be happy to demonstrate my concoction’s properties, but I’m not going to give it away.” He chuckled. “Yes, why don’t we discuss that later. No, let me call the client. That’s one of my more pleasurable tasks, well next to the hands-on aspects of course.”
Damek’s restrained laughter iced her veins. An evil cackle would be easier to comprehend. Her captors sounded educated, Damek more so than Reno, both self-assured and experienced.
“Bay?” Damek asked a minute later. “I don’t want to take you from whatever you’re doing. I just wanted to inform you that the procurement has taken place. As soon as I pick up my partner—he’s disposing of her vehicle—we have some staging to do at her rental. Once that’s done, we’ll head for the airport where a private plane is waiting. The flight will take about three hours. Yes, it makes for a long day. Certainly. Of course you want to view the merchandise. We’re looking forward to seeing you.”
Merchandise!
The Carnal plane was waiting in a private hanger on the outskirts of a small airport. The pilot, a longtime Carnal employee, had said little during the flight here yesterday. Damek liked his professional demeanor. He knew his job and did it well.
When Damek opened the back of the SUV, the captive turned toward him, trying to see through the sleep mask he’d chosen. Looking at her breasts with the fear-hardened nipples touched a primitive nerve. He prided himself on his self-control which he saw as one of the benefits of his superior intellect, but sometimes his base nature broke through. Fortunately, he seldom needed to restrain his primitive half. In fact, his dual personalities went a long way toward breaking down a captive and turning her into an effective if not happy sex slave.
Leaning over the tailgate, he snagged the nipple closest to him. There hadn’t been opportunity for fondling earlier when he’d picked up Reno or when they’d driven out to her isolated place where they’d collected her belongings while she waited for them.
Squeaking, she struggled to free herself.
“Naughty, naughty.” He slowly increased the pressure. “Weren’t you taught to respect your betters? That’s what my companion and I are, your betters. You are our subject, our student. Believe me, we don’t allow anything except an A performance. Anything less will be forcefully corrected.”
He paused to let that sink in, then tightened his grip. She flopped around as best she could. “Don’t worry. With Reno and me as your teachers, I’m certain you’ll be a perfect slave by the time we hand you over to your owner. He’s eager to meet you, and since I know who he is, I’m not inclined to try to make him wait. He’ll impress you, probably scare the crap out of you.”
Determined to indulge his growing erection, he rolled the nub between thumb and forefinger. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes an appearance in the next few days. He’ll see you at your rawest, a piece of clay waiting to be molded. Later he’ll compare what you were with the transformation. That’s when he’ll truly understand why the program costs as much as it does.”
Even with the pain he was inflicting, she was trying to comprehend. Wouldn’t it be interesting if her intellect came close to matching his? In their own way they’d enjoy the mental exercises, at least he would.
“That was just a sample,” he said, reluctantly turning his attention to getting freeing her from the vehicle. That done, Reno and he deposited her while the pilot transferred her personal possessions and proof of what she’d once been into the plane’s belly.
Ten minutes they were in the air. Another Carnal operative would deal with the SUV. Tempted as he was to play with her, he’d have to crawl out of his seat and join her on the floor. It wasn’t worth the effort. When Reno’s head started nodding, he pulled out the travel pillow he’d stashed under his seat and leaned it against the window. She probably wouldn’t get any rest, but there wasn’t any reason he couldn’t.
The three hours in the air passed uneventfully. Next came a transfer to another vehicle. He drove. From what he understood, Carnal management had bought the mountain lodge they were heading for some five years ago. Once the title had changed hands, a trusted construction company had come in and made certain modifications. If it had been him, he wouldn’t have hired outsiders to add the dungeon, fenced exterior exercise facility, and cells.
At present, the property was being used by three other training teams and their students. Fortunately, it was large enough that the subjects saw each other only when their handlers wanted them to.
It had rained lately, and as he turned off the state highway and onto the long, dirt road, he gripped the wheel with both hands. Not was the road muddy and rutted, the vegetation hadn’t been cut back in years. He understood the need to keep the entrance as unobtrusive as possible. Still, he hated being shaken about.
“Not much fun back there, is there?” He spoke to the captive for the first time since the plane had taken off. “I imagine you’re getting damn uncomfortable. A part of me is tempted to tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not. Think of yourself as an animal being hauled to an auction, one held out in the middle of nowhere.”
He mulled over what he’d just said. It was better to tell her nothing. Still, using the same taming methods over and over bored him. Besides, he loved playing with the captives’ minds, and now that he was no longer freelancing, he had things to prove to his employers.
“About your owner, I don’t know if you follow football, but I’m sure you know what their bodies are like. He’s no longer an active player, too old and beat up I guess. He probably spent his childhood and early adulthood doing one thing, living and breathing football. Then one day it was all over, and he had to replace it with something else. That’s what you are, the replacement.”
They were nearly at the facility. No cars were parked outside which wasn’t surprising since the barn was large enough to accommodate a half dozen vehicles. Driving over to it, he punched the remote. The massive doors slid open and interior lights went on. He recognized all but one vehicle as belonging to other trainers. The other, a Cadillac, probably belonged to an owner.
Experience h
ad taught him that when a man became a sex owner for the first time, he acted like a kid in a candy store. He loved his new toy or rather he loved his power over her. If the trainers had done their job, the owner delighted in what she’d been trained to do. Like all things, however, familiarity eventually bred boredom. As a result, a master would want more from his second toy. He might brand her, never let her stand in his presence, insist she constantly wear ass plugs.
Damek didn’t care what happened to the slaves once he was done with them. His reward came, not just from the generous pay, but the benefits.
Turning off the engine, he got out and walked around to where the latest acquisition waited. He deliberately drew out the moment as a personal test and to judge his reaction. Good. He hadn’t lost any of his love for his job. Otherwise, he would have been more interested in getting something to eat than unloading her.
“Time to enter hell, bitch,” he said as he opened the rear. His free hand went to his crotch. Patience, he told his swelling cock. Your time’s coming.
Chapter Five
Half sick from being bounced around, Shari stared into the nothing that had become her world. Normal women like her weren’t grabbed, tied up, and—
The rope that had been half chocking her let up, allowing her to take a deep breath. A moment later she felt a tugging at her ankles, then whatever had prevented her from moving her legs was no longer there. Every nerve screamed at her to run, but she couldn’t. Her helplessness pressed against her and despite her vow not to, she again started to cry.
“There it is.” Damek patted her shoulder. “The beginning to surrender.”
No! she needed to insist, but what if he was right? When he again lightly patted her shoulder, she longed to believe she’d be safe in his arms, but of course that was wrong. He helped her sit. Pain from renewed blood flow forced out a sharp moan.
“Ah, hurts here, doesn’t it.” He started rubbing her shoulders. “For the record, that was deliberate on our part. It’s been a hell of a long day for you, and it isn’t over.”
Unable to do anything else, she struggled to remain upright while the man who’d imprisoned her expertly massaged her. He understood her body too well, but she needed his touch. Needed gentle words from him.
“That’s enough.” He patted her on the top of her head as if she was a dog. “Time for you to see your new abode.”
See? An end to blindness?
When he removed the blindfold, she blinked repeatedly but was unable to clear her vision. He wiped at a tear. “I’m of two minds about a woman crying,” he told her. “There are times when that’s exactly what I want her to do, but I hate blubbering. You aren’t a blubberer, are you?”
Surely he didn’t expect her to answer. Besides, she’d never tell him she’d long ago learned how useless tears were.
“Well, I’ll find out soon enough. Out we go.”
Grabbing her legs, he spun her around and hauled her over the tailgate. Something sharp scraped her buttocks. He held onto her shoulders while she planted her feet under her. Then he let go. She couldn’t see Reno.
Damek wasn’t touching her. After all that time being jammed into a plane or the back of an vehicle, she was free! Fighting the insane lie, she looked around but couldn’t make sense of where they were, some kind of oversized garage. The open door grabbed her attention, and she tried to walk toward it.
“No, no.” Clamping a hand around her bound hands, Damek hauled her against him. “An obedient dog stays in his fenced yard. You aren’t to ever forget that.”
Damn it! She wasn’t a dog!
Half-crazed with irrational anger, she fought. Part of her stood apart from her struggling figure and laughed at her futile attempts, but she couldn’t stop. Her life depended on getting free! Despite the burning haze consuming her mind, she realized the limb she’d been fastened to could be used as a weapon. Putting all her strength into the effort, she jerked free and whipped around. The limb stuck Damek. She didn’t care where.
“Damn stupid bitch!”
Hooking his foot over the rope between her ankles, he tripped her. She fell, landing on her breasts and smacking her chin. When she tried to plant her hands on the ground, he kicked her. The blows were rhythmic and slow, measured. Mostly they struck her ass and legs but some landed on her back while a few connected with her arms. One found the back of her head.
“Please,” she sobbed through her gag. “Oh please.”
“Please what?” He kicked her right thigh. “Are you begging me, bitch, are you?”
She didn’t answer, couldn’t force out a response. Neither could she defend herself. He was leaving bruises but nothing that would leave her crippled. With little else to think about, she admitted his expertise. He could stomp her to death. Instead, he was teaching her a lesson. Exacting pain for pain’s sake.
Someone please help me!
“I’ll stop as soon as you beg me to,” he said conversationally. “Believe me, I can keep this up a long time because it brings me pleasure to hurt you.” He punctuated his point by forcing his shoe between her thighs and pressing against her pussy. “Your owner knows you’re going to be hurt. He’ll expect it.”
If only she could curl into a ball! Protect herself somehow.
But she couldn’t.
“Please,” she hissed into the ropes in her mouth. “Please don’t hurt me anymore.”
“Beg, slut.” The pressure against her sex increased.
“Forgive me, please.”
Laughing, he grabbed her hair. “Forgive me, Master. I want to hear you say it.”
No! Anything but that! “I’m sorry, Master.”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
Her jaw ached from grinding down on the rope, but the pain in her throbbing body was even worse. “Please forgive me, Master.”
Shari’s body was still a mass of pain when Damek hauled her through a side door and into a large room with a rock fireplace and paneled walls. She’d never hurt like this, never. Her stepfather had ruled with an iron hand, but she’d learned to stay out of his way. Today there was no running.
“Where we are doesn’t matter,” Damek said in the conversational tone she knew not to trust. “It isn’t as if you’re going to be inviting any of your friends here.” He chuckled. “For the record, security cameras recorded our arrival. If it had been an unfamiliar or unanticipated vehicle—well, that’s something else you don’t need to concern yourself with. I strongly suggest you take close note of your surroundings because the more you comprehend, the sooner you’ll accept that the life you had up until today no longer exists.”
Don’t say that! I can’t handle it.
Stopping, Damek hauled her close via the rope around her neck. His body heat invaded her. Grasping her shoulders again, he spun her around and did something to the rope behind her head. To her relief, the pressure against her mouth relaxed, leaving wet rope sticking to the corners. She started to push it out only to stop. Maybe she should have waited for permission.
No!
The need to work her mouth about was too strong to ignore. Besides, he’d let go of her, and with the small freedom came courage and determination. Silently cursing him, she spit out the rope. It fell to the hardwood floor. If she had back use of her legs, she’d stomp the damn thing.
“Well, what do you think of it?”
“It?”
His exasperated sigh said he questioned her intellect. “Our surroundings. I want you to describe what you see.”
Despite the casual tone, she couldn’t think how to begin. If she had no choice in this simple matter, what else was out of her hands? At least she could speak. If someone entered the room, she’d beg for help.
Or did she dare?
“Damn it, why do you think I’m letting you talk!” He pinched her buttocks through her shorts.
Startled, she tried to get away. “I, ah, the room’s massive. There’s this—this fireplace but no fire in it.”
Letting go, he s
tepped back. Praying for courage, she turned so she could see what he was doing. With everything she’d been through, she’d barely noted how exposed her breasts were. Now, all too aware of her captor’s focus on her naked and pushed-out-of-shape breasts, it took all she had not to hunch her shoulders in a vain attempt to make her breasts less prominent.
She was becoming a sexual object.
“Interesting that the fireplace is the first thing you noticed. What about the furnishings?”
Everything about the room screamed not just masculine but macho. The heavy furniture was mostly leather and wood. The things on the wall—
“Who-whoever owns this place hunts,” she said around her suddenly dry throat. “He’s proud of his trophies.”
“Describe the trophies, slut.”
Slut. Yet another attempt to demean her. Fighting another wave of disbelief, she identified several bucks with impressive antlers, two bull elk heads, a tiger pelt, a bear skin so large it had to have been a grizzly. Much as she hated seeing the grizzly pelt on the floor near the fireplace, the mounted heads with their dead eyes were worse.
“Yes, quite a collection.” Damek patted her right breast. “For the record, this place doesn’t belong to a single owner. Look around. What else do you see?”
Either she hadn’t noticed at first or her mind had been incapable of absorbing the details but now, for reasons that had to do with needing to wrap her mind around reality, she began.
“Several wood timbers extend from the floor to the ceiling. I—they aren’t load bearing. There—there doesn’t seem to be a pattern to their placement.”
He again patted her breast. “Random?”
Please stop reminding me of what I am to you. “I don’t know.”
“Go on.”
Oh God. “There are—rings and chains in the timbers.”
The man who’d kidnapped her stroked her breast. She knew better than to read kindness in the gesture but after being repeatedly kicked, a gentle touch caught her off guard. Warmed her. Desperate for something she refused to put into words, she stared up at Damek.