Taking Her Down

by Vonna Harper

  She groaned and fought to clamp his fingers inside her. He too easily slipped free, leaving her on the verge of screaming.

  “What is it, slave?” He slapped her breasts. “Your clan’s men ordered you to use your body to disarm your captor? You believed you could break me down, distract me from the threat of danger?”

  He didn’t sound like himself. That, coupled with the distrust radiating out from him, said he’d stepped fully into what she’d thought had been fantasy play.

  “I had to try, Master.” She lowered her gaze. “I’m at your mercy. You can kill me. I don’t dare forget that.”

  Still holding her chin, he roughly fingered her stinging breasts. Between that manipulation and her on-fire pussy, she could barely think.

  “I don’t want you dead. You’re useful to me now.”

  Alerted by the strange, almost primitive tone, she continued her submissive stance. “In what way, Master? I want to please you, but—”

  “Prove it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  She was a lovely creature. Her helplessness spoke to him as nothing ever had. He’d bound her wrists in front, leaving enough distance between them that she could have removed her blindfold. Instead, she’d willingly let him lead her outside via a short leash hooked to her collar. He’d guided her down the stairs and along the path leading to the building where MSDB clients and employees took their meals. He hadn’t bothered to tell her what he had in mind, not because her need to eat mattered to him, but because everyone was required to appear in public every few hours.

  The truth was, he wasn’t sure why he’d led his slave into this area with cameras and an assortment of food and drinks set out on a long table. Although they were the only ones there, he sensed eyes on him as he positioned her near the table and ordered her onto her knees.

  She moved her head about. The way she kept raising her hands toward her face told him how hard remaining blind was. He hadn’t spoken to her since repositioning her bonds, hadn’t explained that robbing her of sight and making her dependent on him was designed to both test her subservience and fill him with an even greater sense of power.

  This naked female at his feet belonged to him. She ate when he decided to feed her, walked where he compelled her to go, spoke when he gave permission.

  He glanced at the camera set high in a corner then dismissed it. As long as he and his captive were left alone, he didn’t care what anyone saw or thought.

  The smell of barbequed beef made his mouth water. He selected a slice off a large plate and chewed. The food was his due, provided for him by his grateful people because he was a skilled warrior and hunter. He ate another slice then held a turkey leg in both hands and gnawed on it. Instead of using a napkin to wipe his fingers, he ran them through his captive’s hair. She sank lower and dropped her head a little.

  He bumped her shoulder with his knee. “Are you hungry, slave?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “But you can’t reach the food, can you?” Not waiting for a reply, he picked up the leash dangling between her breasts and tugged to let her know he expected her to crawl closer to him. “Think about that, slave. Admit how dependent you are on me.”

  “I know—at least I’m trying to understand.”

  Despite her quiet words, he didn’t believe her. She was the enemy. If she had a chance, she’d run back to her people. She might even try to kill him.

  The thought of her attacking him made him smile. Surely, she understood she didn’t stand a chance against his greater strength, but the instinct for survival made people, even fully trained and cowed slaves, take dangerous chances.

  Maybe he’d fool her into thinking she could escape. He’d pretend to fall asleep without first securing her. Then he’d wait and watch. No matter whether she sprinted for the door or went in search of a weapon, he’d teach her the error of her ways. He’d punish her so—

  But not too much. He had no use for a slave whose spirit had been broken. Men worthy of the name didn’t do that to weak rivals.

  The room seemed to shrink. Now that he’d filled his belly, he wanted to return to the wilderness, where he belonged. He drew his fingers out of the slave’s hair and ran them over her blindfold. She’d done what he’d ordered her to, hadn’t resisted or complained since he’d robbed her of sight. He could put off escaping these walls long enough to feed her.

  Still gripping the leash, he selected a slice of apple and touched it to her lips. The sound of chewing briefly ended the silence. When she was done, she tried to rub her cheek against him.

  “What is it, pet? Asking for more food, are you?”

  “Yes, Master, please.”

  Did it please him to feed her, or should he use the moment to teach her even more about his control over her? Thinking that she might have trouble concentrating with a growling stomach, he gave her the rest of the apple, followed by orange slices. Next, he selected a cracker with cheese on it. As she ate, he pondered whether he’d been too kind to her. Maybe he should have fed her something tasteless or foul-tasting.

  Deciding she’d had enough, he opened a water bottle and tapped her lips with it. Watching her drink, he tried to remember how and when she’d come into his possession but couldn’t.

  Maybe once the storm was over.

  Maybe if his thinking cleared.

  And if not—

  Then he’d keep her forever.

  * * * *

  Not being able to see where she was going was unnerving enough, but Master’s dark silence made the walk through the downpour even worse. She wished he’d given her more to eat but at least those bites had demonstrated he hadn’t completely gotten lost in whatever had overtaken him.

  She should have called out for help when they had been in wherever he’d taken her. She’d read something about food being provided during her MSDB experience. It was possible someone had watched Master feed her, but she hadn’t sensed a presence. Most likely the cameras designed to guarantee her safety had been trained on her kneeling, bound and blindfolded body.

  So why hadn’t she insisted she was in the hands of a madman and wanted out?

  Putting off having to answer her question, she concentrated on the strain on the collar. She needed to stay as close to Master as possible, because he was leading the way. Being this dependent on him increased her awareness of him even more—something she hadn’t thought possible. He’d bound her wrists, secured the blindfold around her eyes and attached a leash to the collar. She was his.

  So much rain ran off her it felt as if she were in a shower. There was hardly any wind and she hadn’t heard thunder for a while, so maybe the storm would end before much longer.

  Master stopped so abruptly she ran into him. Instead of jumping back, she soaked in his warm presence. Making her sightless way to where he’d fed her had left her with little ability to think about how he’d kept her sexually unfulfilled. Now that their bodies were touching, she could barely concentrate on anything else.

  “Down on your knees again, hostage.”

  Hostage or slave? Which was it? Eager to please him, she did as he’d commanded. Crushed seashells bit into her knees. She placed her hands on her thighs and waited.

  Because of the sound the rain made, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard him walking away. She kneeled with water washing over her already drenched body. The longer she waited for him, the less anything else mattered. She sank lower and lower with her head deeply bent. How naïve she’d been to think being submissive meant having a man give her a choice between a switch and a whip once she’d assured him she wanted to be lashed. Now she understood how deeply satisfying—yes, satisfying—turning her body over to a man could be. He wanted her to crouch surrounded by nature so she would.

  “They aren’t coming for you,” he said at length. She thought he was standing behind her but couldn’t be sure. “Your warriors don’t dare take the chance to try to rescue you. You aren’t worth risking their lives.”

  �
��I know,” she whispered. She meant it. “I don’t want them to.”

  “You’re mine for as long as I want you. I’ll teach you what it takes to please me and if you do, I might reward you.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  “‘Might’, I said. And if I decide not to, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  The thought of living forever without sexual pleasure made her tremble, but he was right.

  “I beg you to treat me with consideration,” she said. “I’ll dedicate my life to giving you pleasure. All I ask is a little—”

  “I know what you need, slave.”

  So she was a slave again. Trying to keep up with his mental changes was so confusing—and exciting. She no longer tried to make sense of what had happened to him. What mattered was that they were together.

  She swallowed. “I loved it when you pleasured me with your fingers. I felt worthy of you.”

  “What about when I placed clamps on your breasts and whipped you? How did that make you feel?”

  “Alive,” she breathed. “Newborn.”

  “Not afraid?”

  “A little. But it was exciting.”

  “I could leave you out here. Secure you to a tree with your arms over your head so you can’t free yourself or remove the blindfold. I might make you spend the night here so you’ll comprehend what belonging to me means.”

  Belonging to him. She shivered and pressed her hands over her heart. Unable to think of anything to say, she waited with darkness all around her.

  “But I won’t, because I have other uses for you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  By the time Master had finished drying her, she was half crazy from wondering what he intended to do next. Part of her questioned why she was so willing to join him in what might be his madness, but mostly she just wanted to experience. The whole time she’d watched him towel his unabashedly naked body, she’d ached to take over. She hadn’t, because he hadn’t given her permission.

  Being able to see and use her hands again felt strange, and she wished she was still totally dependent on him. Maybe if she begged him to—

  No, she wouldn’t do that, because waiting for him to make the next move meant more. She wondered what their relationship as Master and slave would be like. Her career was too important to give up, but maybe he’d dictate everything about her life when she wasn’t working. He’d call her during the day with a list of commands, everything from not wearing underwear to masturbating in her truck with her workmen about. Maybe he’d place a vibrator inside her before she left in the morning and warn her of the consequences if she climaxed.

  Sweat broke out. Fingers clenched, she swallowed repeatedly at the thought of coming home to find Master waiting for her with his cock exposed. Trembling, she’d sink to her knees and crawl over to him. She’d take his erection into her mouth and slowly demonstrate how grateful she was for his mastery of her.

  “I think—the rain is letting up.”

  He sounded both confused and disappointed, giving rise, once more, to the question of how much of an impact the weather had on him. If the storm—and maybe the island—was responsible for how he’d been acting, she didn’t want anything to change.

  Had to hold onto this strange connection to him.

  She extended her hand toward his cock. “Please let me.”

  “You want to fuck?”

  “If that’s what you want,” she hurried to say. “I was thinking—” She drew a less than steady hand over her mouth. “I would love to—”

  “You don’t make the decisions, I do.”

  “I know. I wasn’t—”

  “Be quiet.” He grabbed her hair and hauled her over to the bed with the collection of bondage equipment on it. “You need to truly learn what it means to be a submissive.”

  Did he no longer see her as a captive or hostage? Maybe he’d broken free from the world that had sucked him in. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. In some respects she was relieved, because she couldn’t wrap her mind around what had happened to him or how deep he might sink into that world. Besides, if he’d returned to reality, he could play the role of Dom with her as his sub.

  Not a game, please.

  He bent her over the side of the bed so her forehead rested on the mattress with her ass high, and left her like that as he rummaged through the various items. Finally, he picked up some white rope and made a loop at one end. He slid the loop over her arm closest to him then snagged her other arm and placed the rope around it as well. He pushed the loop up her arms until it settled just above her elbows and tightened it, drawing her arms together behind her back. Her shoulder blades burned. She felt more rope joining what was already there like a sleeve. When he’d trapped her arms in four or five loops, he ran more rope around the restraint between her elbows and tightened it. Some three or four feet of loose rope lay on her back.

  “A handle.” He pulled up on the excess rope. “Or reins. Regardless of what we call it, controlling you is going to be easy.”

  Instead of bringing her upright, he kept her dangling over the bed. She lacked the necessary leverage needed to straighten—although maybe the truth was she didn’t dare do anything he hadn’t given her permission to. As a result, she sagged in his grip.

  “Harnessing a slave as I’ve done makes controlling her a simple matter.” He jerked on the rope, bringing her up a few inches, then slackened his hold so she sagged again. She loved, absolutely loved, being under his control. “This approach also ensures I’ll have your full attention.”

  “You do, Master, you do.” Moisture pooled in her pussy. Only this moment mattered. There was nothing else.

  “I know.”

  Those were the words of a sane man, not someone lost in something beyond comprehension. A little disappointed, she silently begged him to take things to the next step. He’d introduced her to what it meant to be helpless and more than a little about pain. Along with both of those experiences, there’d been a healthy dose of stimulation, complete with several climaxes.

  What they hadn’t done was have sex, fuck.

  If he wanted to, it would happen. Otherwise, she had no choice but to accept his decision—for now.

  “Master?” she ventured. “May I ask a question?”

  “Ask. I may or may not answer.”

  Vowing to keep the questions manageable, she wrestled her thoughts into some kind of whole. “Will we see each other after this? If it’s what we want, can it happen?”

  He rubbed her left flank. “You want?”

  Half crazed from the overload of sensation, she lifted her head, trying to read his expression, but he was behind her. “I, ah, I think so.”

  “I don’t.”

  * * * *

  Even though several minutes had passed since his harsh statement, she still couldn’t get past it. She was nothing but a paycheck to him. Even if he comprehended how much she’d changed today, her journey didn’t matter to him. She might as well be an animal he’d agreed to help train.

  Too bad she didn’t feel the same way.

  He’d finally helped her stand upright. Then he’d ordered her to go back into the bathroom. As she stood before the mirror with him stony-faced behind her, she wondered who the stranger staring back at her was. Her minimal makeup was gone, her hair a still-damp disaster. More telling, her eyes were huge and hot, her out-thrusting nipples hard.

  “Never forget what you’re seeing,” he ordered. “Remember the day you turned yourself over to a stranger.”

  “One day?” She tried to meet his gaze in the mirror.

  He seemed to be staring at something only he could see. “You don’t want me. Right now”—giving her no warning, he ran a hand between her legs from behind, his fingers sliding over her juice-slickened labia—“you might believe there’s something between us, something worth exploring, but this is what’s fueling those thoughts.” He swiped again. “Don’t think with your pussy because it lies.”

  “Do
n’t tell me what to think,” she snapped and whirled on him. Lost the intimate contact. Her edict might have had more impact if she hadn’t been helpless and naked. “You don’t know what’s going on with me.”

  To her surprise, he nodded. He placed his fingers in his mouth and sucked on her fluids. “I know some things,” he told her as he held up his hand, “but not everything. What I do understand is that, underneath your tough exterior, you crave having a man telling you what to do, even what to feel.”

  Was that true? She couldn’t argue the first part of his comment, but the thought that a man could control her emotions made her shiver. She wanted back use of her arms, her clothes, wanted the collar around her neck gone.

  Didn’t she?

  “Confused, slave?” he taunted. He hooked a finger through the ring under her chin and pulled her out of the bathroom. Her fingers fluttered uselessly. “Someday, a dominant man is going to see beneath your barriers to the real you. He’ll place his collar around you and you’ll kneel before him. Worship him. Find joy in the act of surrender.”

  She didn’t want just any dominant man, she admitted, as he returned her to the bed and again bent her over it. She wanted this complex one. She was just afraid of telling him so.

  “We’ve been through a lot,” he said from his station behind and above her. “You, mostly, but me as well. Now, unless you beg me not to, I’m going to get my reward.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  He’d been drunk for a long time but now he was starting to sober up. If he turned his head fast, dizziness half-blinded him, and thinking took too much effort. He felt better now that the wind no longer rattled the windows. At the same time, he could hardly wait for the next storm to hit, because it made him feel more alive than he’d ever been.

  So did the slight young woman at his command. Under his domination.

  He vaguely recalled calling her a hostage, a prisoner, a slave, but that might have been his imagination. What he did know was she wanted this as much as he did.