by Marilynn Fae
The car keeps going forward to an unknown location and she's still sitting awkwardly beside the man who now owns her entire body.
To his credit, he doesn't try to take advantage of her, keeping a respectable distance between them and letting her panic about how the rest of her life is going to play out without pushing her to start treating him like anything has changed.
He offers her a glass of orange juice from the mini fridge hidden between the seats and if she wasn't feeling like someone has pulled a rug from right beneath her feet, she would have found this immeasurably cool.
The orange juice is unfairly delicious and very cool. She finishes it without thinking and blushes when she notices his eyes on her.
"Would you like some more?" he offers generously.
"No, thank you," she says not because it's true but because it feels like the right thing to say. "What- what's going to happen now?" she can't help but ask, afraid and curious all at once.
He turns to her and his eyes flash a brilliant red for a second, the color of the blood in her veins. "Well, we're going to get you started on the chemical treatment so that you can behave the way we want you to," he says.
"Who're 'we'?" she asks, knowing full well he doesn't need to answer her. It would be a waste of his time to answer any of her questions at all. After all, she understands full well that none of this matters at all. She is his now. Entirely.
"My men," he says. "And Ethan and his pack."
Pack? A pack implies werewolves. But why would he want to share her-
Her breath hitches and her eyes widen. "Did you know that there is a 50% chance of a human being born between a Werewolf and a human couple?"
He intends to turn her into a breeder.
"Nothing so crude, love," he says, expression softening and she realizes she's said the last part out loud. "I take good care of what's mine. You're going to be absolutely fine. Trust me."
Trusting him was what had gotten her in this position in the first place. She should never have taken his money. She doesn't move when he reaches forward and brushes a tear that's escaped down her cheek with his finger.
"It's alright, my love. Everything's going to be alright," he tries to reassure her, his voice dropping into a deep cadence that vibrates through her bones and makes her wants to melt against the leather seats. He does lift the box out of the way at this point and moves close towards her.
She's breathing too hard to be upset about it, gasping inhales that doesn't seem to be getting enough oxygen into her lungs.
"It's alright. Come on. Come here," he coaxes, pulling her up and into his lap.
"It's not- It's-" she stutters. It's the opposite of alright. It annoys her how easily he is able to lift her up and carry her over the seat into his lap and how well they fit together, how easily it is for him to fit her face against the nape of his neck and how soothing his palm is on her back.
"Breathe, my love. That's it. That's a good girl," he says. "We'll be good for you, love. You don't have to worry about anything anymore." He keeps calling her 'love' and she hates how much she revels in it. It feels like it has been a long time since anyone has told her they loved her. She knows that's not what he means, but he sounds sincere enough that she can convince her mind he means it.
She thinks it's unfair how good he smells. Vampires shouldn't smell like lavender and peaches. She inhales greedily, hands clutching the front of his shirt as he cradles her to his chest. A logical part of her brain tells her that her behavior right now is completely out of the norm and something is wrong. Another part of her just wants to melt into his lap and let him hold her until all her worries disappear.
She should be angrier, more afraid. The emotions doesn't come. She doesn't know what's wrong but she knows something's not right.
The orange juice, she thinks quietly. The change in her body is already starting and she doesn't even know it yet. He probably put something in the juice. That would explain why he's not so eager to taste her blood right now. All those chemicals going through her veins will probably make her less delicious.
She wonders how long that'll last.
"Feeling better, love?" he asks, soft and sweet. It's disturbing. This is the same man she had seen on papers being labelled as immensely powerful and dangerous, that everyone is advised to treat like royalty. She has seen him out in the streets, flanked by bodyguard on all sides, crowds parting for him like the red sea. He is a man whose presence commands attention and respect and he's... he's patting her like she's a scared pet cat he's picked off the streets.
The line of thought makes her feel cold all over but she manages to not start panicking again. She nods against his neck and tries to focus on how good he smells and not think beyond that because it's too complicated.
"That's good. Everything's going to be alright, my love. It might be a little harder for the beginning. The transition is always a little difficult. Ethan needs to make sure that you're perfect for him first, but I'm sure you can manage, darling. You're going to be perfect. I can tell."
"How-" she sniffles. "How is he going to check?" she wants to know.
"Well, he's going to make sure you can take his fist before he knots you."
What? She freezes at that because there's no way she heard that right. There's no way-
"You've never played with yourself before, darling?"
She shakes her head immediately because it's true. She's never so much as touch herself between her legs. She's just been so busy with everything and it's not like there's time for her to be experimenting with - with fisting herself, not when she's never even experienced vaginal sex!
"It'll be pleasant, trust me," he says. "Intense, but very good."
She doesn't trust him at all. To make matters worse, he doesn't appear the least affected by how much she's beginning to panic again. If anything, he seems to be enjoying it, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around her and soothe her on his lap, bouncing his legs a little like she's an infant. "I don't- I don't want-" she blabbers, finally finding her voice. She wishes she hadn't spoken at all. Her voice sounds too shrill to her own ears, the notes a little off, and she's whining like a child who doesn't want to go to a doctor's visit.
It all just makes her cry again, tears wetting his expensive suit jacket, hiccuping noises from her throat. Not for the first time, she wishes she wasn't human. If she was a Shifter of some sort, or a vampire, at least they wouldn't want her to do this. She knows it's a problem with their society. No humans are unbonded past the age of twenty. Once they're eighteen, they're married off or 'adopted' by a pack or a vampire coven. The lucky ones get themselves bitten quickly.
The only reason why she managed to stay alone for so long is because they had money. Keyword being 'had'. Her mother being sick had drained their accounts.
"Shh..." he coos. "It'll be alright, darling. No one's going to hurt you."
She knows for a fact that he's lying because it hurts now. Just thinking about how much her life is going to change makes her feel sick.
Her hitched breaths have only just started to calm when the car pulls to a stop in front of a large white building with no discernible signs on any of five floors. Someone opens his door from the outside and he shifts her in his lap and, to her horror, steps out of the car carrying her in his arms easily. She tries to struggle out of his lap, but his grip tightens to the point of pain around his waist and he whispers a hissed, "Stay still or I'll bite."
She freezes and hides her face in the nape of his neck, hiding herself from anyone's gaze, hoping everything will just go away and she'll wake up and this is all just a weird dream.
"Has she gotten her first dose already?" a warm voice asks from beside them.
"Yes," Peter says. "Had a small panic attack in the car, but I handled it. Is Ethan ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"And the camera crew?"
The camera crew? She doesn't like the sound of that, but she's feeling too comfortable where she is to look up
and figure out where he's taking her. She thinks she could close her eyes and fall asleep right here and everything would be just fine when she wakes.
Hair falls over her eyes and shields her from strange gazes. She yawns and her mouth closes around his suit. She mouths at him a little, finding solace in the sucking.
"Are you sleepy, love?" he asks. "Sleep," he tells her. "We can get everything ready while you're sleeping."
The rational part of her knows that sleeping is the worst thing she could do. She doesn't know these men and she doesn't know where she's at. But his hands rub soothing circling on her back and he's telling her that it's safe to sleep. He'll take care of everything for her. It'll be easier if she's asleep. She closes her eyes and yawns. Seconds later, she's out like a light.
Chapter Four: Hogtied
When she wakes, she feels oddly clean and soft, like someone had washed and soaped her, and then rubbed lotion all over her body while giving her a full body massage. She realizes that may have been exactly what's happened because when she looks down, she sees that she's completely naked and spread out on top of a smooth surface with only a towel on her back. She's curled to her side and to her horror, is sucking her thumb in her sleep.
She yanks her hand away immediately. It's a terrible habit. One that she managed to train herself out of doing in public.
She starts to panic immediately, sitting straight up and struggling to climb to her feet. Her legs feel too heavy and she can't move her lower body much at all. There's a slight, stinging sensation between her legs and oddly enough, on her ass as well. Inside her ass to be specific. She frowns, not understand why she would feel this way.
Did they- did they clean her while she was asleep? Both outside and in? Her skin prickles at the thought of strangers touching her when she's not awake, fingers against her skin and rubbing her down.
Her legs wobble after the first step and then she's sinking onto the floor, too weak to do anything but lean against the wall as she looks around her. She's in a bathroom of some sort, one with too much space and porcelain everywhere she looks.
Her heart hammers too fast against her rib cage, threatening to leap through the solid bones and escape her body. There are men all around her, cameras in their hands pointing to her and the tell-tale green dot informing her that she's being recorded. She stares at them in abject horror. "What'- what's happening?" she murmurs.
"Ah, it seems to be time for her second dose," a man in a white suit says, approaching her with a needle from the door. He kneels down in front of her and her eyes are immediately drawn to the sharp needle in his grip. There is a droplet of white at the needlepoint. "It will only sting for a second," he says, reaching for her arm.
"No," she yelps, kicking her leg out at him when he starts towards her. Or she tries to. Her legs feel like jelly, too weak to even kick out properly. He grabs her by her ankle and gives her a smile that is probably meant to be reassuring but she's too busy staring at how bare her leg looks, and then further down her thigh to her hips, she sees that her pubic area has been shaved clean as well. Her jaw falls open and she blinks at her body for a few seconds before she's panicking anew, kicking and pushing herself back and away. "No, no, no," she cries, kicking her legs out at him.
She yelps in surprise when Peter suddenly appears by her side and yanks her back and into his lap, pulling her to his chest and holding her still with relative ease. "Shh... It's alright, darling. You just need to get your medicine and you'll be just fine," he says, holding her still.
"Who- who-" she stutters.
"They're my men," he says. "I want everything recorded. Can you be a good girl, darling?"
She sniffles, fingers sharp as claws on his chest, clutching tightly. She feels less naked with his arms around her and she would much rather pretend that they're all alone. With his arms around her, she is mostly covered.
"You're scaring the poor girl," someone says, his voice a smooth baritone that makes her curious enough to look up at him. The first thing she sees is a black shirt stretched across a broad, muscular chest. She tilts her head up to look at his face and finds herself momentarily rendered speechless. It's not that she's never seen a hot guy before. She's just never seen one this hot, this close to her. He grins at her with what feels like all his teeth and she closes her mouth, hoping she wasn't drooling. "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"
She blushes and looks away, partially to hide her embarrassment and partially to look for exits discreetly. There's another door in the room but she doubts it'll lead her outside. And it's not like she can run. Peter has already shown that he is more than capable of knowing exactly where she is at all times. She hasn't even known she would lose her job that morning and somehow, he's already waiting at the front door, not allowing her breathing space at all.
"She really is," Peter murmurs, holding her close. "Be brave, love," he says. "It'll only feel weird the first time. You're going to love it. I promise," he says.
She hardly feels it when the man injects her with the needle in her ass ,and then she's being handed into a different pair of hands.
"I've got her," the stranger says.
"You sure you know how to do this right?" Peter murmurs.
"It's not the first time I've done this. I have to admit, I've never tried it with someone so... small."
That doesn't sound good to her. She writhes in his arms, feeling weak all over.
"It's alright," he leans in and pauses, like he's considering something. Then, he murmurs softly in her ear, "Daddy's going to take care of you."
Her breath hitches and she feels Peter's hands around her, holding her still as she's tied with ropes and leather belts and fixed to a harness fixed to the ceiling. Her arms are pulled up and locked in leather handcuffs on top, and then her legs and lifted up to her chest, her ankles buckled to the bands around her thigh. She feels herself pale as the new position leaves her unable to move at all. She's completely exposed like this, spread out with both her holes on display.
The worst thing about it is how comfortable it is, how easy it is for her to just lean back and surrender.
She does.
Chapter Five: Surrender
Ethan feels a mixture of pity and arousal at the sight of the young girl in front of him. He does feel a little sorry for her. Knowing Peter, she was probably blindsided into accepting everything that's happening. Well, knowing Peter, he probably had a hand in making sure she's here in the first place.
It's not difficult to see how Peter had fallen for the young girl so easily. She's very beautiful and practically oozes innocence, something that is hard to find for people like Ethan and Peter. People are always trying to please them and act in a way that they think would give them an advantage. Being powerful also means that a lot of people stop being sincere.
There is nothing insincere about the fear in her eyes.
He had appeared just as they were done cleaning her up, putting the special medicated oil to her skin to make sure that she'll no longer grow hair on her body. They've finished up with the enema as well and he's going to put another dose of medicine deep into her to make sure that the last part of her transformation into their perfect little girl would be completed.
When Peter first appeared to him and asked him whether he would be interested in sharing a lover with him, Ethan thought he was insane. They're good friends, but not so close that he would be comfortable sharing a mate. Both of them possessive with everything they own. They didn't even used to share toys when they were growing up. Then, Peter drops the bombshell that she's a human and everything changes.
It's not secret that Werewolves are fast dying out. Their inability to breed makes it so that the vampire population is fast surpassing them not because they can breed, but because they're immortal. He has been looking for a breeder as discreetly as he can for the past several years and to have one offered to him like so easily... Well, he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
They came to an agree
ment easily enough. Any werewolf children they have will go to him and the human children will be taken care of by Peter. It's a fair deal. Humans can be turned into vampires when they're older and it's clear that while Peter pretends to be above everything, Ethan catches him looking at families with an envious gaze. He has a coven of vampires loyal to him, but his original family have long since passed on.
His attention turns back to the young woman tied to the harness at a soft sound she makes and the panicked way she's looking at him.
The injection wouldn't reduce sensation, but it'll leave her feeling a little disoriented. She'll also crave contact more, making her form a bond with him and Peter quickly. She's truly a lovely thing, pale skin even whiter under the bright lights, black bands of soft leather hugging her body to make her look like a work of art. Exquisite and perfect.
He leans in and curls his fingers around the back of her neck, shifting one of the straps to make sure that she's comfortable as he subtly breathes in, taking in her scent. She's still afraid, heart beating too erratically and her gaze panicked as she darts around looking for an escape route.
"Stay still, baby," he cautions her before she tries to struggle. "Daddy's going to take care of you now," he says, the word sounding weird to his own ears, but it's all part of the grander plan.
Peter has already gotten the doctor to inject the cocktail of age regression drugs into her body. They want her to feel as safe as she can be and with all of them being either werewolves or vampires, it's practically impossible for her to not be afraid unless they take drastic measures.
Part of the reason is entirely selfish too. Neither of them want her to be able to leave once they get their hands on her.
"Don't be scared," he rumbles, holding her still with one hand on her back and the other cradling her neck. He's keeping his touch deliberately chaste for now. "Daddy's going to make you feel good," he promises.