BDSM Mega Boxed Set

by Anita Lawless, C. J. Sneere, Roxxy Meyer

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  Check out more of our bdsm, man love, urban fantasy, rock star, and billionaire erotic romance at Amazon, All Romance, BookStrand, Kobo, Smashwords & Nook. Or visit http://wildlawlesswriters.blogspot.com/ for a complete list of our titles. Read on for more bonus material from Wild & Lawless Writers.

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  Read an excerpt from a scorching, upcoming Wild & Lawless release filled with sexy mmf ménage. Rescued by Rebels by Roxxy Meyer will be released in early 2015. Part of our BDSM Fantasies series!

  Rescued by Rebels

  BDSM Fantasies

  By Roxxy Meyer

  Chapter 1

  Year 2415

  Altar–4 Colony

  Keisha’s fingers flew over the strings of her antique Fender as she belted out Long Live Rock ‘n’ Roll. People packed the outpost bar to full capacity, and many crowded around the stage, gyrating, hooting, fists pumping in the air. Their enthusiasm fed her groove, and her body thrummed with the electric atmosphere as she smiled back at the crowd. She broke into a solo, and their cheering amplified. Sweat coated her dark brown skin, glued her sapphire t-shirt with Jimi Hendrix on the front to her breasts, fell into her eyes, and she let it fall. There would be time to wipe it away later, when the song concluded. Right now, she was caught up in a magical communion with her audience.

  Feeling bold, she decided to give the crowd a pleasure suggestion. Sure, using her mind bending powers in an outpost bar was risky. Elite eyes were everywhere, and cameras probably watched her now, hidden in the corners of the smoky building. But just a little jolt would make it under the Elite’s radar, she was sure. Just a quick shot of orgasmic elation, to return the energized vibe the audience gave to her.

  Closing her eyes, she let her thoughts drift out to the crowd. As she sang and her fingers made love to the guitar, she joined with their minds. A loud gasp emitted from the throng of people clustered around stage. Dancing couples embraced tighter, tongues flitted out to taste lips, ears, necks. Moans of enjoyment filtered up to Keisha’s ear, and she threw another impulsive suggestion out to her adoring fans.

  Soon the crowd shed their clothes. Hands caressed torso, breasts, firm, round asses. Fingers coiled around cocks and probed wet pussy. Their enjoyment shot back and entered Keisha’s brain, and she sighed as their pleasure rocked her with sensation. This kind of connection with an audience was a natural high she relished.

  In front of the stage, she watched a man bend over his lover and shove his cock deep inside. Keisha rode a note on the neck of her Fender for as long as she could, releasing it as the couple’s fucking grew frantic.

  As the song ended, she ripped into a rendition of Deep Purple’s Hush. But when she opened her eyes, two men in grey suits, pushing their way through the orgy her audience engaged in, drowned all her joy. She yanked the cord out of her Fender, slid it around to her back, and dashed from the stage, while the house band still played and the audience writhed in ecstasy.

  Stupid, she chided herself, as she ran into the bar’s manager, who shouted “Hey, don’t you want your money?” But if she stopped now, the Elite’s thugs would surely grab her.

  “I’ll be back,” she said as she bolted for the door leading into the alleyway.

  But she knew the chances she’d return to collect payment were slim to none, and, once again, she berated herself for such a foolish move—a blatant display of her mind bending. She should’ve known it would bring the Elite’s dogs sniffing for her misfit blood as soon as they spotted the orgy in the bar.

  The alley was dark and narrow, and Keisha tripped over a slumbering homeless woman in her flight. She muttered a ‘sorry’ as the woman grunted and sat up from beneath a pile a filthy rags. Then Keisha turned a sharp corner that ended the alley and emptied into a dusty back road that led to the outpost bar. She hoped the boys in grey took the direct route, but she wasn’t going to make a second stupid mistake.

  Veering from the road, she headed for the sprawling sand dunes to her right. At least she could hide out in the desert until the heat cooled off. She knew the Gushani Desert well—many misfits on the run did. If she were lucky, she’d find a band of fugitive misfits on her trek through the dunes, and join up with them until she hit the next outpost town. Being a nomad made her adaptable—at least she had that card in her pocket.

  She ducked behind a pink dune and her heart hiccupped a beat. There they were—two men in grey with dark sunglasses obscuring their cold stare. Keisha raised her arms in the air, started to back away, and sent them a thought suggestion to knock them on their butts. But it was too late. One agent aimed a disabler at her, shaking his head as he did so, obviously to rid himself of the giant snake illusion she’d just cast into his mind.

  Keisha dove to the right, but the needle-dart the agent shot stuck in her bicep. Toxins numbed her body, paralyzing her, while the disabling solution robbed her of her mind bending powers. A cotton fog wrapped around her brain, and all she could do was lie there, wait for them to come and take her. Anger coursed through her veins, but she was helpless to act on that rage.

  One agent yanked a black cloth over her head, while the other removed her Fender from her back and cuffed her hands. She cried out inside as she felt her six string baby taken away. The last gift her mother had given Keisha, and she’d be lucky to see it again.

  The two agents roughly hauled her to her feet, but Keisha’s muscles were liquid. One bastard threw her over his shoulder and huffed as they carted her out of the desert. Inside, she screamed and scratched like a banshee, while outside she was a silenced zombie.

  They threw her in the back of a cold van. Metal bit into her shoulder, and the stench of sour sweat and despair assaulted her. The vehicle’s doors banged shut with an echo of doom.

  They took a sharp corner, and Keisha slammed her head into the van’s bare floor. She pulled herself to her knees, dirt and grit biting through her jeans, as the paralysis lessened. Her mind bending abilities were still nil, but at least she could move a bit. Her days as a mind bending minstrel were over, and she had a good idea where these agents of the Elite were taking her. She didn’t need to be a brain technician to figure it out. She was destined for a Funhouse-- where misfits, threats to the new society the Elites were trying to build after the apocalypse, were taken, so they couldn’t stir trouble and revolution amongst the masses.

  The van jerked to a stop, and someone grabbed her arms roughly after the back doors opened, while another shackled her ankles. They pulled her from the vehicle, and the dust outside kicking up in a warm wind choked her.

  The sound of metal screeching on metal set her teeth on edge. A cold gust of air plumed out from the building and hit her full force, as the men at each of her arms dragged her forward.

  “Enjoy the accommodations, princess,” one said, as he and his partner threw her forward. They ripped the sack from her head as they tossed her.

  Her knees hit hard against a concrete floor, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of crying out. She heard them chuckle as the heavy metal door shrieked shut behind her.

  In the all encompassing darkness, it was hard to make out features, anything discernable. A dark hallway stretched before her. Cold bricks walls buffered her sides. Her captors had left her hands and feet bound, and tossed both keys to her shackles about ten feet away from her.

  What sporting gentlemen, she thought. Leaving me easy prey for the monsters.

  No sooner had the words left her mind, but she heard a thunderous growl coming from the end of the corridor.

  “Oh shit,” Keisha murmured, and scrambled for the keys.

  The smell hit her as she turned and bent backward, using her flexibility to her advantage. Of course, the bastards had tied her hands behind her back. Thankfully, from years of finger picking, Keisha’s fingers were nimble and quick.

  The stench was that of rot and sewage, she gagged as her index finger and thumb closed around one of the keys. Her fingers and wrists cracked as she manipulated the
keys, trying to slide it into one of the locks on the handcuffs. She sighed relief at the sound of a soft click, but her relief was soon drowned as the floor shook from the force of the approaching monster’s footsteps.

  A hulking figure of glowing silver appeared at the end of the corridor. It’s gigantic, well muscled form dripped liquid as it shuddered, narrowed its sapphire eyes at her, and bent back its head to let free a spine chilling howl. The bald creature was clad in only a pair of pants that were shredded at the ankles. It extended its long arms in front of it, slamming its knuckles into the concrete so hard, chunks spit up from beneath its fists.

  Keisha focused her thoughts on the monstrosity, and relief washed through her when she found a glimmer of her powers had returned. She probed its mind to access its level of intelligence. It was a beast ruled by instinct and reaction. There wasn’t a lot of room for reasoning or analyzing inside its small brain. She sent it a projection, tried to cast a visual illusion by tricking its synapses into believing she, too, was a towering monster larger than it. It stopped and backed up a bit, appearing confused, which gave her enough time to remove the other wristlet and her ankle shackles. She slipped her holographic sword from her boot and squeezed the helm to retract the shimmering façade of sharp steel.

  The stinking wall of muscle and anger came at her again, loping across the concrete floor, sending up chunks of rock the size of Keisha’s head. She gripped the helm hard and assumed a defensive stance.

  Still under the power of her projection, the creature swung too high, thinking she was far taller than her five foot six. Its meaty fist missed her completely, but it lost its balance in the force of its swing, and Keisha scrambled away, running to the left as the stinking wall of flesh fell toward her. Its shadow swallowed the scant bit of light the corridor had to offer. Keisha found the consuming blackness disorienting, and she smashed into a wall before her. She could hear the whistle of the wind the creature created as it tumbled toward her.

  Before it could crush her with one of its massive arms, something just as large as her attacker dashed from an archway a few feet away from Keisha. It took concrete with it as it came, smashing the archway to smithereens as it snatched up her pursuer and shook it like a rag doll. She thought the new creature was a snake-headed conglomeration, but in the blue glow of her attacker’s skin, she saw it was an elephant-headed beast with a torso that dwarfed her stinking opponent.

  The elephant monster trumpeted in triumph as it swung the silver-skinned monster above its head, and then slammed it down into the concrete so hard Keisha lost her balance and fell to her butt from the aftershock. To finish the silver giant, the elephant creature crushed its chest with a squat foot that was part human.

  Then it changed. Keisha gripped her sword hard and got to her feet, readying herself for a new battle as the elephant creature shrank to a third of its prior size and became a man with long, curly hair that fell to his shoulders. He held up one hand in a gesture of peace as he neared, while the other hand began to ripple and morph, becoming a torch that burned orange and lit up his face.

  “We’ve managed to take the cameras out on this floor,” he said, smiling as he stopped a couple feet away. “The Elites can’t see our fancy tricks down here.”

  He extended the hand he’d used to sign peace, but she didn’t take it just yet. Instead, she took him in. The man standing before her was one of the most beautiful specimens she’d ever seen. His golden brown skin shone in the torch light, and it would be easy to stare into his almost black eyes for hours, she thought. He wore a tight, white undershirt that clung to his every muscle from the sweat of exertion. Khaki pants defined his trim waist and pulled snug over his thigh muscles.

  Keisha shook her head, chided herself for loosing her thoughts to horny fantasy, and gripped her sword tighter.

  “I’m not a threat,” he said, holding the torch hand and regular one above his head, which only gave her a better view of his triceps and pecs. “I’m here to welcome you, fellow misfit.”

  She was still unsure, but she dropped her sword a bit. Keisha didn’t trust easily, and she didn’t lower her guard.

  “What are you? You’re more than a shapeshifter.” she whispered.

  He flashed another sexy smile, and she tried to resist the disarming affect it had on her. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man, with anyone, and this guy was getting to her. She wasn’t sure she liked that. Survival was the only thing she should be focused on right now.

  “Let’s just say I had a little accident,” he told her, holding out his hand for her to take. “I can take any shape I choose now. The Elites weren’t so happy with that, so I ended up here, like you.”

  She took the hand he offered, squeezing her sword to deactivate it. Her heart hammered in her chest as his gaze held hers. A definite something passed between them, but Keisha pushed the reaction to this man violently from her thoughts. This was no time for distractions.

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  Chapter 2

  “What’s your name, newcomer?” he asked as he led her away from the troll’s cooling corpse.

  “Keisha,” she told him, offering nothing more.

  “Rashid.”

  This one guards her secrets carefully, he thought. After giving her his name, he led her toward the archway where Omar waited.

  Rashid watched the woman’s reaction when the alchemist emerged from the shadows. Rashid’s partner in Funhouse survival for the last three years, Omar stood just a head shorter than Rashid, but he knew his partner equalled him when it came to the intimidation factor.

  Keisha remained silent as the alchemist stepped into the light of the torch. In the light cast by Rashid’s hand, Omar’s skin shone the same shade of dark brown as the newcomer’s. His eyes were a warn chocolate brown, and his hair was clipped short against his head, shaved at the sides. Similar to Rashid, he wore a tight white undershirt and form fitting khaki pants. In addition he sported a dusty, grey trench coat, which billowed out behind him as he walked forward.

  “An alchemist,” Keisha whispered. “I thought they’d all been wiped out on Altar-4.”

  Omar whirled on her, trench coat twining about his knees, eyes narrowing. “How did you know that?”

  She stepped back, and Rashid felt the tension thicken in the cramped tunnel.

  The newcomer’s face tensed. “I’m a mind bender. Your energy signature hit me like a brick.”

  Omar raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. “You’ve been peeking into my thoughts?”

  “N-no…I can sense a misfit’s gift, if it’s strong enough.” She pointed to Rashid, who now thought it best to step between his partner and the newcomer. “I knew he was a shapeshifter, but not like any I’ve ever met.”

  “Just stay out of my mind.” Omar touched the tip of her nose with his finger and glared.

  Rashid gently pushed the alchemist back. “Let’s not scare the lady, okay?” He turned to Keisha. “By the looks of things, the night’s been rough on you already.”

  Brushing her face, he probed one particularly bad scratch on her cheek, and she winced away in pain. Rashid apologized and then proceeded to lead them forward. At the camp, he and Omar would have something in their supplies to help the mind bender, heal her wounds.

  Rashid took her hand, and they dashed down a wide hallway lined with broken cameras. A great commotion sounded above them, complete with blaring sirens and red lights that glared down at them from the crumbling ceiling.

  “They’re letting the rabids out,” Omar said to Rashid, as he stopped to trip a wooden-handled lever at the end of the corridor.

  A metal door hurtled down from the top of the archway, sealing them in this new chamber, and sealing it off from any pursuers. A small rectangular window with three bars running down it was the only view of the corridor they’d left behind, but through the squarish hole, Rashid saw no one pursuing.

  He watched Keisha take in the large, round room where he and Omar had set up a temporary camp. In
here, the howling of the rabids was amplified by the acoustics of their surroundings, and the newcomer’s eyes widened as the chaos created by the infected misfits passed over top of their safe haven.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, as he slid the window in the door shut. “They can’t get through this door, or the protection spell Omar put on it. We’re safe.”

  The large room they’d temporarily stopped in housed some sleeping bags crumpled against the wall opposite them, a bowl shaped fire pit scooped out of the concrete floor, and a worn couch. Rashid led her to the couch, while Omar tended to the fire pit. He left her at the couch long enough to grab some medical supplies from his backpack.

  “Let’s just get some antiseptic on those scratches.” He brushed a stinging solution over her cheek and she tried not to wince from the pain and sharp smell the bit her nostrils. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  She shook her head. “My back’s a bit sore—probably be stiff in the morning—but I’m okay otherwise.”

  Smiling, she thanked him as he applied a bit of gauze and tape to a deeper cut on her bicep, where a chunk of rock had gotten her. Omar continued to busy himself by the now crackling fire, and judging by the smells wafting Rashid’s way, he’d started preparing supper.

  “Would you like to get cleaned up?” He pointed to her bandage. “We’ll have to watch that arm, but we have a place where you can shower, if you like.”

  Judging by her reaction—a raised eyebrow and a distrustful frown—he’d given her his best rogue smile. Damn, he wasn’t hiding his intentions very well, he realized, but then he’d never been good with subtly. Rashid’s approach was all about charming the pants off his paramour. Omar was more the subtle lover, providing a balance to Rashid’s admitted bravado.

  “That’d be great,” Keisha said, but her expression remained watchful, unchanged.