His

by 12 Author Anthology

  Looking up and down the lonely shaded street, she buttoned her coat and began the trek across campus. The night was chilly, the wind piercing and now she had a twenty-minute walk through it. She told herself that if she kept moving, she’d stay warm at least.

  Just as she stepped down off the curb, a strong force took hold of her by the arm and swung her around, knocking her off her balance. Instinctively, she looked up and locked gazes with a masked man. Gertrude searched the face for eyes but found only blackened orbits where eyes should have been.

  A figure, cloaked in black from head to toe, put a gloved finger to the horizontal seam that was his mouth. “Shh…”

  Before she could scream, he grabbed her around the waist with one arm and hoisted her off her feet. She’d heard it all before. Self-defense was ultimately a matter of personal choice. Sometimes violence brought out the worst in an assailant. Some were merciful toward a cooperative victim. Unable to process the situation, whether she should do whatever the man told her to do or if she should fight back with everything she had, Gertrude realized she had lost her chance to get away. Mind reeling, she attempted to formulate a strategy for survival in her head.

  With a soft thud, her back met the floor of a vehicle, which she deduced by its size and shape to be a van though it was difficult to tell in the dark. The interior was carpeted but still cold and abrasive. Her heart nearly stopped when she heard the big heavy doors slam, locking her inside with her abductor. No escape. The click of cuffs around her wrists and ankles fettering her to the floor beneath told her it was pointless to fight what was happening to her.

  Silent, the faceless man in black climbed into the driver’s seat and secured his seatbelt. It struck her as mildly amusing, her kidnapper compliant with traffic laws and road safety when he’d just committed a major felony without blinking an eye. Try as she might to lift her chin in hopes of catching a glimpse of him, albeit an upside down one, she saw nothing but the back of the driver’s seat. In a flash, the van lurched forward, sending her stomach into her throat as it burned rubber down the road.

  ****

  The stranger’s heart beat double-time. At some point, in the excitement of accomplishing his greatest fantasy, he’d forgotten to breathe. Out of sight, he’d lain in wait like a predator, watching her leave the library. He’d insisted on a sliver of chance, wanted a challenge, needed it to steel his nerves and satisfy his healthy male ego.

  Then like a sign from God, she’d missed the bus and dramatically increased his chances of nabbing her. Like a shadow, he’d followed her as she started her long walk across campus, mindful to keep a safe distance, just out of view. The broken streetlight had provided him the cover of darkness he’d needed to execute his plan. If she’d been a mere ten feet farther ahead, under the protective yellow beam, all his hard work could have been a waste of time and effort. A minute later and the plan would have disintegrated like a pile of ash in his gloved hands. Someone might have witnessed the whole thing, and there wasn’t an easy explanation for it.

  A joke. That’s what he would say. Just a joke between friends interpreted the wrong way. Or a sex game. Some harmless adult shenanigans that had got out of hand. Never mind that both of those scenarios required his pretty little captive to play along. Would she turn him in to the authorities or laugh until whatever campus security guard or Good Samaritan walked away?

  Thank the fates he didn’t have to worry because he’d made off with her undetected. Frequent glimpses in his mirrors reassured him that she was still there, in the exact same spot he’d chained her. Every mile he put between the university and his destination encouraged him.

  After one quick stop at a tollbooth, he continued to drive. Thank God he’d remembered to remove his mask. Every glance he stole in his rearview mirror at her writhing body, the sweater she wore just tight enough around her breasts to accentuate her struggle, motivated him to keep going.

  The hardest part was over. Now there would be little chance of interruption or need for explanation. Devious accomplishments aside, the drive seemed to take forever. He knew it was his impatience skewing his perceptions, but he wanted to be there already.

  Finally, after nearly an hour of driving, he steered the nondescript van off the paved highway onto a dirt road, nearly dwarfed by overgrown trees. Once more, he glanced in the rearview, mesmerized by the swing and rattle of the heavy chains binding his captive as he accelerated up a steep incline. The farther along he went, the rougher the road became, jostling the van on its axles. Low-hanging tree branches scraped the van’s rooftop like fingernails as he brought the big metal box on wheels to its final stop behind the small, darkened cabin.

  Before he hopped out, he pulled the stretchy black mask over his face and scanned the wooded area that surrounded him. Not a soul in sight. No one had followed. Opening the doors to the van, he unbuckled the chain fastened to the floor and pulled his captive to an upright position. She was tense but compliant, her eyes wide and imploring. With a flick of his thumb, he unhooked her. All that held her was his grip.

  The woman screamed, more of a release of tension than a cry for help, he realized sympathetically. It pierced his eardrums like a couple of ice picks, but it didn’t anger him. Momentarily struck by the way the moon illuminated her lovely face, he watched her break free, hobbling away with the chains around her ankles. Chains he’d caressed longingly while he stood in a hardware store and imagined it all in his head, including this part. He relished a little chase. Not that she would get far, but she needed to let go of some of her fear. He had a few last-minute jitters of his own to shed.

  Heart pounding with excitement, he took off after her. The scratch and sting of jagged tree limbs and thorny bramble made brittle by winter’s embrace sliced into his arms and legs. He didn’t resent the discomfort, accepting it was a small price to pay for what he would receive. It made the promise of being with her all the more exciting when he considered the pleasure to come rather than the present pain. In order to reach the ecstasy, he had to endure the agony.

  The pleasure to come. Gertrude Tompkins was soon to come, the stranger thought wickedly with an indulgent smile. He would soothe his cuts and bruises with the female feast just ahead.

  Scrambling to her hands and knees, she rolled down a hill blanketed in dead leaves. He cringed when she fell forward into a huge mud puddle, murky rainwater splashing her pretty face. It wouldn’t do for her to be injured. Closing the gap between them, he caught up to her with ease and drew her tightly to his chest. Screaming, she flailed her limbs in spastic panic. He threw her over his shoulder and carried her through the woods, back to the cabin, kicking the door shut as he went.

  Gently, he placed her down in front of the fireplace. She was dirty from her run through the woods and wet from her fall. “You’re freezing.”

  He liked that she watched him intensely, her focus solely on him as he worked on getting a fire going. First, he lit the starter block and opened the damper. Then he put some kindling on the grate and crumpled some newspaper. Lastly, he stacked the wood he’d chopped a few days earlier in a crisscross pattern and lit the newspaper with a long match.

  For the next couple of minutes, he recalled how he’d been at the cabin alone, chopping wood when he’d come up with the idea of the essay exam. The fire made a telltale crackling noise he found satisfying. Luckily there was little smoke, which told him the draft was moving upward as it should. After the little blaze got going, he placed a large log on top so it would burn a while without requiring his attention. After all, he had other things to do.

  “Better?” He gazed on his captive as she sat up and moved closer to the warmth. As beautiful as she was to him, he had to bite back on his desire to take her right then and there. It would have been a savage betrayal. The fantasy would be destroyed, and he was a slave to the fantasy as she was a slave to him. Before he ruined everything, he forced himself to leave the room and run a bath.

  When he reentered the room, he found her ex
actly as he’d left her. She hadn’t tried to escape again. He didn’t know how to feel about that. Had he frightened her so badly she was now in shock? Gone too far and damaged the root of her trust? She didn’t show any signs of that. Looking at her, hands outstretched to feel the fire’s warmth, head erect, eyes wide and scanning the room, so vulnerable and so completely consumable, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving any hint of lasting damage.

  Without invitation, he pushed her coat from her shoulders, down her arms and to the floor. Next he tugged her sweater over her head and her camisole with it, pausing a moment to sniff it before tossing it on top of the sweater and coat. Putting his arms around her, he unbuttoned her long skirt, imminently aware of how close the gesture was to an embrace. She stared straight ahead at his chest while the material slipped down her hips to pool at her feet. Her shoes were in bad shape after her escape attempt, the outsides caked with mud and the soles squishy and damp.

  He reached down at his thigh and pulled a hunting knife from its sheath. She turned to run, her eyes wide with terror. Like a caveman, he grabbed her by the hair and brought her back against his chest, slipping the tip of the knife under her bra. With a quick flick of his blade the cups sprang free, and he pulled the garment loose.

  A firm hand on her shoulder, he put her against the rock wall fireplace to face him. Grabbing her panties at the hip, he ran the blade through on both sides and ripped them from her body, discarding them where he stood. Calmly, he returned the knife to his thigh and looked at her, the firelight illuminating her beauty.

  Obsessed with the prospect of touching her again, he picked her up and she screamed, no doubt terrified that he was going to use the knife to harm her. Scooping her up, he carried her into the small adjoining room where she panicked all over again at the sight of the tub full of water. Deciding the best reaction was a lack of one, he held her fast. Eventually, her fight died, and he was able to place her in the water.

  On a short stool, he bathed her, covering her in suds with a soapy loofah sponge. Overcome with a gnawing hunger to be one with her, he eyed her nipples, flicking them with his thumb like a chef might sample a highly anticipated recipe. She let out a sharp chirp of surprise and tried to shield herself. With a look, he commanded her to lower her hands and much to his delight she obeyed. He proceeded to rinse her, falling in love with the way the water cascaded over the rounded contours of her body.

  Wrapping her in a large towel, he picked her up and returned her to the fire and dried her hair. Again, she made the mistake of trying to hide herself. And he made certain she regretted it, snatching her up and dragging her into the bedroom. The bed, paired with a table, dwarfed the space, the only ornamentation in the room a huge crystal vase full of lilies. A symbol of her purity, or in this case, her virginity.

  Feeling an intense need to convince her of the folly in running, he pushed her down on the bed, securing her to the ornate wooden headboard ensnared in a long, heavy chain.

  “Now for your punishment,” he whispered, kicking her legs apart.

  Up to this point, he’d only said one or two words. Not that he hadn’t concealed his voice to protect his identity. His background in theater had helped him disguise his accent well enough. But the main reason he’d kept silent was a psychological one. By keeping his words as sparse as possible, he put her off balance. Instead of wondering what he planned to do with her, she would be preoccupied with trying to figure out who he was.

  Her body tensed from head to toe. That pleased him greatly as he wanted her full, undivided attention. Wanted every cell of her body listening to him.

  Rounding her ass with his warm palm, an inner voice cried out for calm. He was already so hard, painfully so, his jeans stretched tight across his crotch. Control. Committed to the fantasy, he had to maintain absolute control. Not just over his captive but himself. Indulging himself in a moment’s relief, he gave his cock a quick squeeze and set out to recapture his focus.

  He drew his hand back and brought it firmly against the tender flesh of her backside over and over. The succulent aroma of her pussy filled his nostrils as her desire ripened. His captive cried out, her entire body a taut string on a bow. In full command, he leaned over, hovering above her ear. “You will never run from me again.”

  With a quick spin, he brought her around, the chains at her wrists swinging against him. A wild animal, her arm lashed out, fingernails swiping him like claws. Biting back on the pain, he lifted his t-shirt and glanced down at his chest. Four thin ribbons of blood manifested on the surface of his skin. He looked at his captive, her expression a mixture of proud defiance, fearful regret and what he wanted to believe was female admiration of the male form. He’d always exercised, enjoyed the benefits of staying fit. After he laid eyes on Gertrude, however, attracting her with his body had been a goal of his. Instead of resenting her outburst, he relished her spontaneous fury and hoped the scratches healed slowly. He wiped the deepest cut and licked the blood from his finger. The light bloodplay was a nice impromptu addition to the fantasy. He didn’t know why he was surprised. Gertrude had yet to disappoint. “Promise me that and you shall have anything and everything you want.”

  His pretty captive swallowed visibly. “I promise.”

  A pause stretched between them, both regarding each other. Finally, he forced himself to speak. Otherwise, temptation might have taken over. “Ask and you shall receive.”

  “Let me see your face?” she asked imploringly.

  Of course she would ask that, the most logical, reasonable request. The one thing he couldn’t give her. Not yet anyway.

  “In time,” he said, hating to disappoint her but sworn to keeping the fantasy intact. “I do appreciate a woman who knows what she wants.”

  “I want you,” she pleaded with him, her eyes searching his blank face.

  “Not as much as I want you,” he whispered with a shake of his head. No way could her passion match his, but he was looking forward to demonstrating the comparisons. Her words moved him deeply, stirring up emotions within him that he’d kept bottled up until tonight. Now that he was so close to having her, he wasn’t sure he could stand it much longer.

  “You have me,” she sighed.

  He looked at her, bound and supplicant beneath him. “Yes, I do.”

  Maintaining his resolve, he reached down and retrieved a black vibrator he’d stashed between the mattress and box springs. With a nudge of his thumb at the base, it began to hum. Riveted on his manipulation of the toy, she watched him brush it over her skin, bringing her to a state of suspended hypersensitivity. In a fluid transition, he guided the vibrator between her legs and probed her entrance until she was aching for more. He thought he might die from anticipation, thinking of all he had to offer her.

  “More, please, give me more,” Gertrude pleaded.

  “More?” he whispered, wrapped up in the whirlwind of sensations the vibrator created as he twisted its thick shaft in and out of her pussy.

  “More.”

  Had she ever come? He wondered. Penetrating her deeper, he brought her hips off the bed. She was getting closer to orgasm he sensed, maintaining an outpost on the outer edge of her composure and control. If it were up to him, she would soon forget her fear, who he was or why he’d taken her and simply surrender to him and all he promised.

  His captive screamed as he felt the tender flesh of her hymen give way. The sound he ripped from her throat sounded like he’d torn her in half. Upon withdrawal, he saw the simulated cock come away with a drop of dark blood and loathed the violence of his actions. He put his palm to her heart, letting the regret wash over him. “Forgive me this one hurt and I will never hurt you again.”

  Although masked, he turned his head away for a moment. Loathe to the idea of hurting anyone, let alone a woman and her of all women, racked him with such a mixture of guilt and honor that he almost wept. He’d had no choice, doing what he did because he wanted her to know pleasure. He only hoped the price of pleasure would be w
orth the pain he’d caused her.

  For the first time since he’d taken her, he relaxed his grip on her, loosening the chains from the bed so her arms could rest comfortably at her sides. She didn’t struggle or try to get away. To his delight, she grew still and closed her eyes, a small contented smile on her lips.

  “Sleep.” He kissed her temple sweetly. “A lifetime of ecstasy awaits us, Gertrude. I can’t wait to share it with you.”

  Leaving her only for a moment, he moistened a washcloth in the nearby bathroom. As he applied it to her tender flesh, she moaned softly when the warm material made contact with her skin. Now she would rest.

  Sharing her fatigue, he slipped in beside her and covered her with a quilt. He held her as she slept, happier than he’d ever been. Tomorrow, he would make Gertrude his. And tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter Four

  Gertrude awoke to the most divine of sensations. A tickle between her thighs that radiated like an electric current throughout her body. Dipping her chin sleepily, she looked down and saw the dark stranger was awake, positioned between her legs, using his fingers and tongue to wake her.

  He looked up and saw that she was awake. “Your pussy belongs to me now. I shall have it whenever and wherever I wish. Have I made myself clear?”

  When she failed to answer right away, he buried his tongue as far into her as it would go.

  “Yes!” Gertrude screamed.

  The dark stranger stopped his heavenly assault. “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” she whispered hoarsely through her arousal.

  Knowing she watched him, he dismounted the bed and unbuckled his pants. His fingers manipulated the leather and metal but his eyes, still hidden behind the mask, remained on her. He pulled his cock free from his jeans, and her eyes went wide. His cock was big, like the rest of him. For the longest moment, he let her watch him as he stroked his shaft, taking in the power of his desire. She’d never seen a man touch himself before.