by Vonna Harper
“Reeve, it’s good to meet you,” one of the two sitting men said. “I was beginning to wonder if you were a figment of my imagination.”
He was surrounded by shadow as was the older, heavyset man to his right. Just the same, she had no doubt that their gazes were locked on her. Even when she’d done a live shoot watched by thousands, she hadn’t felt as exposed as she did now. If only she could move her hands, she’d at least cover her crotch. And yet despite her unease, the hunger Reeve had placed in her growled. She was a body, a vessel, ripe and empty.
“I believe in being cautious,” Reeve said. “That’s why I didn’t immediately respond to the invitation. Research, you know. Only two? I was under the impression I was going to be allowed to observe your association.”
“It’s going to happen; however, it isn’t the only thing tonight is about. Please, sit down.”
Reeve took an inordinate amount of time deciding which chair to take, finally choosing one that allowed him to look at both men without more than the slightest move of his head. Of course he left her standing center stage.
“Prime,” the man who hadn’t spoken yet said. “Absolutely prime. I’ve seen the video you took of the two of you and was already familiar with her from her work at The Dungeon, but the camera didn’t do her justice.”
“Which is why I went after her. Come here, slave. I want you close.”
Not so he could protect her, she acknowledged when he ordered her to kneel before him, but so he could slip off his shoe and rub his foot over her belly. Just the same, the contact helped. He was a known commodity, capable of tenderness, her partner for lack of another term. He was also responsible for her wet and clenching pussy.
“You haven’t had her long,” the first man said. “Just the same, her training appears to be coming along.”
“I’m making strides. Before we go any further, I want to know who I’m talking to.”
The first man introduced himself as Paul and his companion as Ty, which might or might not be the truth. Although they were sitting, both men appeared to be taller than Jeffrey, who’d taken his own seat. Dressed in expensive slacks and crisp collared shirts, they looked as if they’d just come out of a business meeting. Under other circumstances, she might have been flattered to be included in the exclusive gathering. However, her helpless nudity made a joke of that notion.
“We’ve taken a calculated risk by inviting you here,” Paul told Reeve. “You’re an interesting man, public and private at the same time. In short, we don’t really know who you are.”
“I’m not a cop if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“We know that. We’re just not sure who you are.”
“Someone who highly values his privacy.” For all the attention he was giving her, she could be a stuffed animal. At the same time, his toes against her midsection calmed and centered her. “As do you. You know of my special interests—” He ran his foot between her breasts. “Interests I believe you share with me. There’s a large and provincial segment of society that considers us criminals. Instead of granting us the freedom to indulge in our hobbies, they’d like to see us castrated and locked up.”
“True.”
“What they fail to comprehend is that although civilization has progressed a great deal since Neanderthals, two givens remain. The strong prevail and sex drives will always be primitive. This”—Shoving against her chest, Reeve knocked her back so her legs were under her and her body impossibly arched. Without use of her arms, she couldn’t move—“is a prime example. I’m not going to apologize for my animal nature, and I don’t believe the three of you ever would either.”
“Indeed, indeed,” Ty agreed. “And when one of the strong is able to get his hands on a fine example of the weak”—getting to his feet, Ty planted himself near her head—“then his superiority must be acknowledged and rewarded by the weak.” Leaning down, he gripped the rod behind her back and righted her. His next move was to slide the rod out of the crook of her elbows. Her shoulders caught fire. “I’ve no doubt that you’ll see what I’m about to do as circumventing your rights of ownership. However, before we can go further with our possible association with you, we need to be assured that she is indeed your possession.”
“Are you asking my permission to question her?”
“After a fashion.” Wrapping Saree’s leash around his hand, Ty tugged, forcing her to strain toward him. Behind her gag, she silently begged Reeve to come to her defense. “You can leave any time you want if you object to what’s about to take place. She just won’t be coming with you.”
Reeve sat upright. “Go on.”
“Quite plainly, she’s our bargaining chip. You’re a wealthy man and, as such, powerful. Despite our research of you, it’s possible that your motivation for responding to our invitation isn’t a simple matter of wanting to hook up with kindred souls. It could be—a desire to blackmail us perhaps.”
“Let’s see if I have this straight,” Reeve said. “You want to explore the possibility that she and I are partners in, what should I call it, our scheme to extort you.”
“Reeve, none of us in this association wants this aspect of our nature to become public knowledge so, yes, we are vulnerable. However, determining the truth is a simple matter, a short test. Our relationship with our possessions is both complex and simple. Anyone who joins our association must have the same relationship with his possession. I’ll demonstrate in a moment but first—”
Ty’s hand snaked out to grab the chains between her wrists. An instant later he’d hauled Saree to her feet and was dragging her over to the nearby alcove with the cage and bondage equipment. Reaching up, he pulled down a hook attached to a cable and slipped her chain through the hook. As soon as he had, the hook started to retract, forcing her arms up over her head. It stopped when she was on her toes. A few feet away, whoever was in the cage lifted her head.
Instead of coming to her rescue, Reeve remained seated. He looked more curious than alarmed.
“Despite the progress you’ve made in her education, she needs to become accustomed to being under someone else’s control,” Ty explained. “Feels different, doesn’t it, slave? You believe you know what to expect from your master, but you don’t know what the hell I might do.”
The way he stared at her, he obviously expected an answer, so she shook her head.
“You’re about to be interviewed. I suggest you answer promptly and honestly, do you understand?”
This time she nodded. Fear and something else kept her in the moment. She felt alive, so terribly alive.
“At least she’s a quick study,” Ty told Reeve. “Captivity sometimes turns a bitch stupid. When that happens, she’s useless. First order of business, making it possible for her to respond.”
Ty was probably a hair over six feet tall. Despite the belly that lopped over his belt, his arms were well-muscled and his chest thick, probably the result of hours spent in a private gym. He wasn’t as strong as Reeve, but given the situation she was in, that didn’t matter, did it?
Besides, there it was, that gathering of energy between her legs at the thought of being at a man’s mercy. She supposed she should have been alarmed when Ty drew out a knife, but he had no reason to harm her—at least not now. He easily dispensed with her gag, even massaged the sides of her mouth.
“I trust you noticed that, gentlemen. She made no attempt to bite me, proof that the veneer of civilization hasn’t been stripped from her. Either that or her master has broken her of that impulse. Which is it, slave? Has he beaten you?”
“Yes.” Talking felt unnatural.
“Hmm. For biting?”
“No.”
“His reasons were?”
This wasn’t a simple question any more than the situation was simple. “Master? Do I have permission to answer?”
Her question obviously impressed the three men, who exchanged nods. There wasn’t enough light there to bring everything into focus, but then nothing really matter
ed except for her up-forced arms and the men who shared the room with her.
“Answer,” Reeve finally said. “And if your responses displease me, I’ll punish you later.”
Jeffrey laughed. “The slave needs to understand how essential honesty is. I suggest an example of the consequences of lying.”
“I agree,” Paul chimed in. “And since its my slave who prompted the issue, I suggest we make that clear to our guest and his property.”
16
Even before Paul walked over to the cage, Saree had guessed what he was talking about. She wanted time to stop. Hell, she wanted to go back to before Reeve had stormed her world. But that wasn’t going to happen. And she couldn’t prevent whatever was going to happen next so only turned and watched. Paul unlocked the metal door, snapped his finger, and stepped back. After several seconds, a slight brunette crawled out. She made no attempt to get to her feet but cowered as low to the ground as she could. Saree wasn’t sure but she might have seen her on the video Reeve had made her watch. She wore a brand.
“Reeve,” Paul said. “Because you were so good as to share your training techniques with us via your video, I have no doubt that you insist on absolute honesty from your slave, right?”
“Right.”
“And if you caught her in a lie—”
“She’d be punished.”
“A punishment designed to teach her the error of her ways while providing you with pleasure and entertainment, right?”
Reeve grinned. “I don’t need to remind you that the creature I brought here just recently became my possession. I’m still refining my mythology.”
“Which is one of the most pleasant aspects of slave ownership, as I’m about to demonstrate.” Paul stepped toward the cowering woman, then kicked her in the side, knocking her off balance much as Reeve had done to Saree a little while ago. As the woman fell sideways, Saree saw that she was wearing a crotch rope. Tight strands hugged her belly in front, pulled down by the strands stretched over her cunt before being tied to the rope belt in back. Other than that she was free. Or was she?
“I allowed her to sleep at my feet after servicing me the other night,” Paul explained. “Instead of waiting for her orders in the morning, she slipped off the bed as I was waking up. I asked what she was doing. She said she was afraid she was taking up too much room, but she hates taking me in the ass, don’t you?”
The poor naked woman tried to curl into a ball the way she’d been in the cage. Answer him, Saree silently begged.
“Don’t you?” He kicked her again.
“Master, please.”
“Don’t you!” A third kick.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“There. What the hell was so hard about being truthful?”
“Because—because you punished me for admitting that earlier.”
Smiling a little, Paul shrugged. “True, true. Kind of puts you in a bind, doesn’t it? Either you’re in trouble for telling the truth or for trying to get away with a lie. The point it, punishment for lying is far worse.”
What was she hearing, a ticking clock? The longer the horrid scene went on, the more Saree feared the outcome.
“Tell us, slave,” Paul went on. “What were the consequences for lying?”
“You—you forced your cock into my ass three times that day. And when you weren’t doing that, you made me wear a plug there.”
“And are you wearing one now?”
“Yes.” Saree could barely hear her.
“Hmm. And when do you anticipate that corrective device to be removed?”
“I don’t know, Master.”
“But you’d love to have it gone, wouldn’t you?”
“Ye—if it pleases you, Master.”
“Ah, progress is being made.” Paul turned toward Reeve. “The point being made here is that the longer she’s a slave the less important her will becomes. She learns to put her master’s wishes first, foremost, and always because the consequences if she doesn’t can be terrible. Can’t they, slave?”
For too long the slave didn’t answer, making Saree wonder if she was thinking about the death of the woman whose body had turned up on the side of the freeway. “I wish to please you, Master. That’s all that matters.”
“So you say, but that too is a lie. And how do I know that?” Grabbing the woman by her hair, Paul yanked her to her feet. She made no effort to free herself but stood with her arms dangling at her sides and her head downcast. Saree couldn’t be sure but didn’t think she was crying, proof she knew how hopeless her situations was?
A thought rocked Saree, one she’d never once considered during her fantasies about being the pampered possession of a powerful man. Quite possibly slavery in its rawest form destroyed one’s will. If that was the case, what was the point of a golden cage and a collar made of spun silver?
Distracted by a soft moan, Saree clamped down on her thought. Paul must have ordered his slave to lean over because she was bent low with her hands on her knees and her buttocks offered to him. Although Saree couldn’t see his hands, she knew Paul was doing something to the butt plug.
“Just as I thought.” Paul slapped the woman’s buttocks. “A piece of information I withheld from you, slave. When I inserted this, I made sure that a red mark I’d made on it was at the rear. It’s now off to the side, proof that you tampered with my work.”
“I’m sorry, sorry.”
“Are you ever going to learn!” He yanked her upright. “This is my ass, not yours. I do what I want to it when I want.” Forcing her elbows together, he herded her over to one of the walls. Saree fought a cry when she realized he’d chosen cuffs that were connected via a metal bar some two inches wide and maybe four inches long. She clenched her teeth while Paul locked the woman’s slender wrists behind her in the harsh restraints. Unlike cuffs made with chain, these allowed absolutely no movement.
“What’s the point of this?” Reeve asked, sounding bored. “Your treatment of your slave is none of my concern.”
“The point”—Paul hauled the woman back to the cage—“is the issue of honesty, and proven methods for ensuring that nothing is held back.”
Already tense and wary, Saree became even more so. Despite what she and Reeve had just witnessed, this wasn’t about Paul’s slave. Instead, the scene had been choreographed for her and Reeve.
Speaking as if he were training an unruly puppy, Paul ordered his slave back into the cage. Although she struggled to comply, the metal cuffs made her awkward. Finally an impatient Paul crouched beside her and shoved her into the small confinement. “My point,” he said to Reeve as he stood, “is one shared by other members of our association or fellowship. A number of signs indicate that you would be a good fit. However, an equal number or even more considerations prompted tonight’s meeting. Before we truly open our doors to you, we need assurance that our trust is warranted.”
“That cuts both ways.”
“True. However, you are on our turf, your position more vulnerable than ours.” Walking over to Saree, Paul forced his hand between her legs. “She certainly is vulnerable, and if we can believe the effort you went to getting possession of her, she’s one of, if not the, most valuable commodity you own. You don’t want to jeopardize that, do you?”
Even with the distraction of those knowing fingers on her flesh, Saree locked her gaze on Reeve; it was important for the others to believe he had so much control over her. For his part, Reeve’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the chair arm. “I’d never touch your slave without permission,” he bit out. “I expect the same consideration.”
“I’m not going to fuck her. But I’m going to ask her some questions and want to make sure I have her full attention and will hear the absolute truth. Have you given her a new name now that her old life no longer exists?”
“Hasn’t been a need. There’s just the two of us.”
“My suggestion, don’t. That way she gets the message that you don’t consider her a human being.” With his
free hand, Paul spread her labial lips and slid two surprisingly soft fingers inside her. “Wet,” he announced. “What is it, slave? Being handled this way turns you on?”
Her throat felt rough. “No, sir. I mean, I’ve been, he hasn’t—”
Paul’s fingers dove deeper, forcing her to strain against her ankle cuffs. “He’s been teasing you? Keeping you on the edge.”
Act, damn it. Much as you hate it, do this right. “Master.” She addressed Reeve. “May I have permission to answer him?”
Something, approval maybe, flickered in Reeve’s eyes. “Go ahead.”
She made a show of swallowing. “My master—I recently displeased him. He has been punishing me by bringing me close but not allowing me to climax.”
“A sometimes vital training tool.” The invading fingers were in constant movement, and, unable to stop herself, she pushed her pelvis at him. “So,” Paul continued, “how did you displease him?”
Why had she said what she had? Now she was going to have to lie and somehow get away with it. “We—he fucked me. I came before he did.”
Reeve’s head nod was so slight that she doubted the others had seen.
“And for that crime, he’s been forcing you through the wringer, has he?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which can be delightful to observe,” Ty said, “as long as the master isn’t subjected to the same frustration.”
Jeffrey chuckled. “How right you are. Paul, are you going to get to the point or are we going to have to sit here and watch her dance on your paw?”
Paul’s answering laugh lacked warmth. “A bit of both. She indeed is sweet in there. If I didn’t know it, I’d never guess you were well used.” He withdrew his fingers, but instead of leaving her, he closed his thumb and forefinger over her clit. Trapped and on fire, she rose higher onto her toes and then stood as still as possible. He couldn’t squeeze—please, he couldn’t! “I have no doubt that you’re furious,” he told Reeve. “If someone took these liberties with my possession, I’d be entertaining cutting off his nuts. I hope this part of the evening’s interview won’t take long since it’s going to be hard for her to concentrate. To that end, I must insist you say nothing while I ask her a number of questions.”