Wild Ones

by Cassie Black

  I tried to fight him off at first, but he was simply too big and too strong. He held me down with his weight and his hands and he used his mouth to tease my skin until my body started responding. I shut my eyes and tried to fight the excitement building in my lower belly as he parted my thighs and buried his head between them. His tongue found my clitoris with frightening ease and he teased and licked it while I lay panting with the tension gripping my muscles. The unwanted orgasm ripped through my body, and I lay there on that bed, my eyes tight shut, hating him, but hating myself more for responding to those relentless attentions.

  His mouth travelled up my body, licking and sucking and nipping, until his hips lay over mine. I had clenched my thighs together as soon as he had finished making me come, and I held them closed now as he tried to nudge them apart with his knee.

  "Open up, Maddie," he whispered in my ear.

  "Fuck off," I told him through gritted teeth.

  "Fuck indeed," he said, and his expression hardened. "Why are you fighting this? I can feel how much your body wants me. It recognises me as its mate."

  "I do not," I said. "Get off me, you raping bastard."

  His expression became even stonier, only his eyes conveying his rage, his mouth a tight line. His hands tightened painfully around my wrists, and he ground his knee into my thighs, forcing them apart. He settled his pelvis between my legs, and used one hand to guide his cock into me. I felt myself tear slightly as I resisted the penetration and I flinched with pain.

  "Stop fighting it!" he almost roared with frustration. "I don't want to hurt you."

  "Then stop," I pleaded. I could feel the tears running down my face, and I cursed my weakness.

  "I can't. If I don't do this now, then you become fair game for the rest of the pack, and that I cannot and will not have. You belong to me, sweet Maddie, and I must claim you this night under Law or lose you forever."

  "Please stop," I begged, sobbing now.

  "I'm sorry, my love, I can't," he murmured as he buried his face in my neck, and slowly forced himself the rest of the way inside me. I realised then that any further resistance was just going to hurt, so I made my body go limp and shut my eyes and tried to pretend that this wasn't happening, but the sound of his pelvis slapping against my thighs and the feel of him moving inside me made that impossible. I concentrated instead on the image of me burying a knife deep in his gut, and twisting it, and seeing the terrible pain etched on his face and feeling the blood spurt over my hands. In my mind I twisted it over and over, working my way down the skin of his belly until he was almost eviscerated. It helped to pass the time.

  Eventually I felt his cock contracting as he came, shuddering against my body.

  My wrists were released, and I used my hands to push his head away from mine.

  "Get off," I said tiredly.

  "OK," he said and I felt him withdraw, and his weight lifted off me. He stood up, took my hands, and pulled me to my feet. I felt sick with rage and frustration, and I refused to look at him, jerking my hands out of his. I felt his semen dribbling down my inner thigh as I stood.

  He twitched the bedding back. "Lie down."

  "No," I said shortly.

  "You need to sleep, Maddie." He smiled ruefully down at me when I glanced up in surprise. "I promise not to touch you for the rest of the night."

  "Yeah, and I trust you completely," I said sarcastically. "Dickhead."

  "I can't let you leave, Maddie. You're mine now." He gazed down at me, his expression harsh and forbidding. I stared back, taking in the size of him and the muscles bulging under his skin, and I knew I didn't have a hope of hell of fighting my way out of this. Play along, Maddie, I told myself, inwardly seething.

  I climbed into the bed, reaching to pull the covers over me, when he put his hand out and touched my thigh. I looked down at the hand and the thin line of blood that had drawn his attention. "You said you wouldn't touch me," I reminded him coldly.

  "I'm so sorry, Maddie," he said softly.

  I drew the covers around me and rolled over to face away from him. The lights went off and I felt him lie down on the other side of the bed. I lay awake until I heard his breathing become deep and regular. I stood up then and dressed in my sweaty running clothes and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. I rummaged through a few drawers until I found a wickedly sharp filleting knife, which I tucked into my right hand, lying the blade along my forearm. I climbed back into the bed. I could tell from his breathing that my exploration of his kitchen had woken him.

  "I can smell the knife," he said in the dark.

  "Just keeping you honest, buddy," I told him, wondering how the hell anyone could smell a knife. He'd probably deduced its presence, and was trying to be a smartass, I thought darkly.

  Eventually his breathing slowed again. I waited about ten minutes until I heard a couple of gentle snores, and then I sat up and looked at his outline under the covers and plunged the knife deep into where I judged his belly to be.

  He shouted with pain as I scuttled backwards off the bed and out of the bedroom. I grabbed a coat I found hanging on a rack and picked up a set of keys lying on a handy shelf, and I was out of that door and running for the pickup parked in front of the house. I dove into the drivers seat and shoved a key in the ignition and twisted it, and the vehicle coughed once before the engine started. I flicked the lights on and put it in reverse, and as I pulled away, I saw the dark haired man leaning against the doorway, clutching his abdomen and watching me steal his car. I opened the window and gave him a cheery wave, and roared off into the night.

  IV

  It was pretty rough going over much of the track back up to Brown's Creek Road, almost as if a grader had never seen this place. Fucking hillbillies, I thought, even though I knew the man I had just stabbed was no such thing. Too big, too pretty, too well spoken and too well dressed. It was a late model Ford I drove with concentration through the ruts of the dirt track and it was tidy inside, and smelled clean. I reached the track where the bikers had been ambushed and was surprised to see no evidence of their existence anywhere. The bikes and the, uh, remains had disappeared. Oh, well, I hadn't been planning on reporting any of this to the authorities, especially as I had just added assault with a deadly weapon and grand theft auto to my repertoire. I saw the gate with the no trespassers sign up ahead and gunned the engine, adding further charges of malicious damage of property and reckless driving. I laughed out loud as the gate slammed open, and the pickup lunged through and swung around onto the dirt road. My whole being felt vibrant, enraged and triumphant and alive. I drove down into town, slowing as I approached the perimeter.

  I parked the pickup a couple of blocks from my flat and used the sleeve of the jacket I wore to wipe down all the surfaces I had touched. Then I climbed out, locked the car, and walked barefoot back to my flat. I glanced around at the sparse furnishings, and decided there and then that I would be leaving for a few weeks, maybe even months. I wasn't sure if the man I'd stabbed would live, and if he didn't I could be in a heap of trouble. I had left that knife with all my fingerprints buried to the hilt in his belly. Talk about your smoking gun. I also didn't feel like explaining the extenuating circumstances to the local police who would probably get some cheap vicarious thrills and assume that I had been asking for it.

  On the other hand, if he survived, he was very likely going to be pissed off with me, and he was a big scary guy, so making myself scarce seemed to be my only viable option right now. I showered hastily, scrubbing my skin, and dressed in jeans, t-shirt, trainers and an olive green duffel coat. I packed an overnight bag with spare undies, hair brush, toothbrush and toothpaste, a few more t- shirts, and a spare pair of jeans. My eyes fell on the discarded coat I had stolen during my escape, and I went through the pockets and found a worn leather wallet with a drivers licence and over five hundred dollars in cash. I hesitated for a few seconds, then pocketed the money. The drivers licence told me the name of my assailant-slash-victim. Cade Grantham.<
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  I slid it back into the wallet and picked up the stolen coat and my bag, and headed out, locking the door behind me. I dumped the wallet and keys for the pickup in a nearby drain, and gave the coat and twenty dollars to a homeless guy that hung around a couple of corners down from my flat. Then I set off towards the bus stop in the centre of town as the sky began to lighten and the birds started their morning chorus.

  Part 2

  Millie

  I

  This kind of stuff doesn't happen to me. I've never been abducted by aliens or bitten by a shark or shot or beaten up or any of those shocking and terrifying things that have happened to other people. I'd never been in any actual danger before in all my twenty-three years.

  Up until now, of course.

  I've always considered myself to be a good girl. Not in the Catholic school virgin sense of the word - ha! that would freak my liberal parents out no end. But I have always tried to be kind to people, and do my job to the best of my abilities. I'm a barista, which basically means I make a lot of coffee. Not the most glamorous of jobs, but it was a steady income, and I met a lot of new people. I lived with my cousin Maddie, in a two bedroom flat a few blocks from where I had grown up, and where my parents still lived. Maddie had arrived on my doorstep a few weeks back, pale and exhausted, and I had welcomed her with open arms. We had been best friends since we were five, though her life had always been a lot more interesting than mine. Her mother and mine were sisters, so we looked fairly similar - we both had long dark hair and blue eyes. But Maddie's parents were wild and crazed (according to my mother) so Maddie had come to live with us when she was five, and had stayed with me until about six months ago. She had set out to find her wayward parents, and from the sounds of things had found a lot more than that. Maddie was a natural born shit magnet (her words, not mine). I was the cautious, boring one.

  Ah, you're thinking. I was too trusting, too naive. I climbed into a stranger's car. Well, no I did not. I am neither trusting nor naive. I climbed into no cars, walked down no dark and empty streets, swam in no shark infested waters (I'm not sure why the sharks keep popping up - maybe it's because I am currently staring at a pair of incisors that would make an adult lion sob). I did none of these things.

  This shit came out of nowhere.

  II

  I should have known something was up when those two stunningly gorgeous guys came into my little coffee shop and ordered two lattes. Firstly they looked seriously out of place. This was strictly a student hangout, and those two men were not only jaw droppingly beautiful (yes, I said beautiful) but they were very well dressed too. I'm talking expensive fitted suits that looked like they were moulded to their bodies. And what bodies. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, but not like those beefy guys who spend their lives in the gym guzzling 'roids. These two had more of a swimmers build, fit and strong. I was instantly appreciative both of their attractiveness, and of the incongruity of their presence amongst what could only be called the scruffier elements of student society. Always the professional, however, I smiled politely, tried not to drool, and served them their coffees. The second thing, which seemed a bit odd at the time, but not nearly as odd as the explanation for it which is currently staring me in the face, was that they didn't actually drink the coffees. They just stood there and held them while they glanced around the room at the motley collection of grubby intellectuals and drunken thugs that seem to attend university nowadays.

  It was almost closing time, and I was looking forward to a soak in a hot bath and a glass of wine, and not necessarily in that order, so I started to tidy the the place up for the guys on the next shift, who would start at six in the morning. The twelve 'til ten shift suited me best, which was why I always seemed to be washing cups and wiping counter tops. I hated waking up early in the morning - it spoiled my whole day.

  When I looked up from my labours the two men had disappeared. I felt a minor twinge of disappointment, but shrugged fatalistically and started herding everyone out of there. I struggled a bit with Norman, one of my more regular customers, who had settled into one of the armchairs near the fire and had fallen asleep. He was a big guy, and snored loudly as I buzzed around him like an ineffectual fly trying to wake him up without throwing water in his face, which I did last time, and which had earned me a written complaint to the boss. Norman was not my favourite customer.

  Next thing the two men were there, smiling in a friendly way, and grabbing my arms in an either very friendly way, or not a friendly at all way, depending on how you looked at it. I objected by screaming loudly, and noted with satisfaction that this appeared to be an excellent way to wake Norman up. The darker of the two guys reached out and squeezed Norman's neck for a couple of seconds, and he went straight back off to sleep, or unconsciousness, hard to tell with Norman. Meanwhile the the blonde smirked at me as he placed one hand over my mouth, and held both of my wrists together with the other hand, pulling me up against his body. I tried to knee him in the goonies, but he moved his hips sideways and chuckled at me. Bastard.

  "This one's feisty, Julius," he said to his buddy, who grinned and put a hand around my neck. I remember the smell of expensive cologne and the way my body just folded up as I lost consciousness.

  III

  I woke up in a normal looking bedroom. No chains, no padded walls, no bloodstains. Phew. No windows either. Not so good. I climbed off the bed and looked down at what I was wearing and my relief evaporated. A white terrycloth robe loosely fastened in front with a bow. And no bra or panties underneath. Creepy. So somebody had taken all my clothes off and dressed me in this thing. Had they taken liberties? My skin smelled clean and appeared to have been covered in a very expensive smelling moisturiser. My hair was damp. WTF?

  I walked around the perimeter of the room, again noting the absence of any windows. There were a couple of ventilation thingies, but no discernable way out apart from the obvious wooden door. I banged on it in an experimental fashion and tried the handle. It seemed solid, and it was definitely locked. Bugger.

  My activities had reassured me of one thing. I had not been raped while I was unconscious. There was no after-sex ache, and no wetness on my thighs. That was reassuring. Sort of. I wondered what the hell was going on.

  The door opened a fraction and a middle aged woman entered, followed by a big hulking monster of a man. He stood just in the doorway with his arms folded menacingly, and stared at me in a threatening way. I scowled at him and then ignored him as best I could. The middle aged woman carried a tray and placed it on the bedside table.

  "Eat up," she said. "You're going to need it."

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? Before I could ask her to explain that little remark, she disappeared back through the door, taking her goon with her. I glanced down at the tray. Sandwich and juice. I wondered what the time was, and decided it must be the next day, because I was suddenly very hungry. I swallowed my pride and then swallowed the sandwich and juice in quick succession. Two minutes later she was back to collect the tray. Muscle Man lurked in the background.

  "Good girl," she said, and then she was gone.

  IV

  I must have fallen asleep on that bed out of sheer boredom, because when I woke up I had a bad case of bed hair and those two guys were standing in the room watching me. They were wearing towels wrapped around their waists and appeared to have just stepped out of the shower. The blonde smiled.

  "Good morning, sweetheart," he purred in a velvety voice.

  I couldn't help it. Something in that voice and the way his tall powerful body leaned against the wall reached in and tugged at my core, and I felt a tingling in my nether regions. His smile widened and became a delighted grin.

  "You smell that, Julius?"

  "I think she likes you, brother."

  "Mine?"

  "That's what we agreed. I had the last one."

  "Yes, you did."

  I stood there, watching these two casually discussing whatever it was that they were talking
about, and I started getting very nervous. My eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape, even though I knew that the only way out was through the door, which was tight shut.

  "Hold her down for me Julius? I don't want to hurt this one."

  "Anything to oblige."

  Their conversation was starting to scare the bejeezus out of me. The tone stayed casual, but the words sounded pretty sinister to me. Hold me down for what?

  That's when the incisors came out. One minute the blonde guy without a name was standing there with a mouth full of normal teeth, next thing these nasty spiky things appeared out of nowhere. I looked around for a hidden camera, thinking I must be on some weird reality show where they play pranks on random people, but there was nothing to be seen.

  Obviously. Because it was a hidden camera. I decided to spoil their fun.

  "OK, OK, I get it," I said aloud, directing my gaze to somewhere on the ceiling. "Your viewers want to see me scream when the nasty big vampire comes toward me gnashing his fangs. Well, it's not going to happen. I figured it out, see."

  "There is no camera, sweetheart," the blonde guy with the fangs purred. I wondered how he managed to speak through those things without lisping. Practise, probably. The thought was not reassuring. I was just pondering the ramifications of this when he dropped his towel.

  That's when I screamed.

  V

  Julius moved faster than any normal man should be able to. I tried to run for the door and ended up face down on the bed with my arms pulled back behind me, and my thighs hanging down over the edge of the bed. I kicked out behind me, hitting nothing but air. Julius had settled on his knees at my head, with his hands around my elbows, holding them together in a vice-like grip. I turned my head sideways and tried to clamp my teeth on his naked thigh, but he moved away just out of my reach.