Her Submission (10 page)

“
Please, oh god, please.”

“
There’s no god here, slave. Never was, never will be.”

She knew that, but the word had escaped anyway.

“
A little more and then I need to—damn.”

Was he in pain again? She was the one who was—was what? Her body was beyond her reach or control, drifting between good and bad. Wonderful and hated. Holding her breath, she tried to concentrate on the good. He hadn’t touched her clit lately but she forgave him because his fingers provided what her pussy craved. Her captor had skewered her, invaded that private and fragile place. Maybe, hopefully, his attack would continue until she lost all awareness of her tethered hands, the tight leather around her waist, the collar.

Her pussy wasn’t selective. Almost any stimulation between her legs would get her off. Left to her own devices, she got down to basics by pressing a vibrator to her clit but—

Where had she gone? How had she managed to dismiss the punishing fingers clamped around her sex lip for even a second?

“
Shit, mmm, shit.”

“
What’s that, slave? I can’t hear you.”

More pressure. Her pussy flesh being relentlessly pulled. Desperate to escape, she twisted one way and then the other. It did her no good. He was still there, fingers clinging to her and inside her, his larger body looming behind her.

“
Oh please. Oh shit, please stop!”

“
Begging won’t get you anywhere, slave. Ever. Get used to it.”

She couldn’t, especially not with two powerful male hands between her thighs. Claiming her sex. Owning her.

“
What do you want? Oh g—what do you want?”

“
Your surrender.”

No! Never.
She kept twisting, fighting what couldn’t be fought. “Damn, damn, damn you.”          

Someone was grunting. At first she thought she was responsible for the harsh sounds then realized they were coming from him. Sensing her sanity and maybe her life might depend on what she did now, she forced herself to stop her useless struggle. Between his grunts and her rapid-fire panting, they sounded like a couple of boxers at the end of a match. Her pussy was on fire, invaded by an overwhelming mix of what was good and bad about her body. Her rock-like nipples pressed against her bra, and she couldn’t close her mouth.

“
Enough,” he hissed. “Shit, enough.”

His fingers slid out of her. The awful/wonderful sensation on her labia eased and then died. She dimly realized he’d backed away but couldn’t concentrate on him, not until her body mended itself. Found a moment of peace.

It happened one nerve ending at a time until finally she no longer stood at the edge of a cliff. Sometimes when her directionless life became more than she wanted to think about, she engaged in a long night of self-stimulation. Climaxing over and over again wiped her mind clean and left her tired and satisfied. She felt a little like that now which shouldn’t be since there’d been nothing pleasurable about what her captor had subjected her to. Her reaction had to be, she told herself, a combination of fear and helplessness.  

The pressure around her neck lessened, allowing her to stand upright and swivel toward her captor. His nostrils were slightly flared and he was squinting. Harsh lines between his eyes coupled with his clenched jaw made her conclude he indeed was in pain. He grabbed her chin and forced her head to the side.

“
What I’m dealing with is none of your concern, got it? I pushed myself more than I should have, that’s all.” He briefly closed his eyes, then shook his head as if trying to reconcile himself to what he’d just revealed.

She waited him out because she had no choice, and because she sure as hell wasn’t going to express sympathy. He’d hurt her, not the other way around.

But had he really caused her pain? She couldn’t say.

“
I’m going to catch a nap,” he said almost conversationally. “But before I do I need to park you so you won’t get into mischief.”

Still neck tethered to the post, she watched as he slowly walked away from her and through a door to the left of the living room. She felt ridiculous and exposed standing there with her clothes hobbling her and her ass sticking out. He was going to rape her, it was just a matter of time. Over and over again until he grew tired of her and then—

Slave.
He’d called her a slave.

His sex slave?

Sick and afraid and something else, she stared at the door until it opened again. He was carrying a length of rope. Something bulged from his jeans’ pocket. If anything his pace was even slower and was he dragging his left leg a little? Maybe it was her imagination, but his lips looked paler than earlier.

A fresh wave of helplessness lapped at her as he wrapped the new rope around what was already on her wrists. When he’d secured her to his satisfaction, he released her arms from the belt and drew them down until her hands were against her mons.

“
To state the obvious,” he said, “I strongly suggest you not fight me. You might believe I’m at a bit of a disadvantage right now.” He ran his hand over his left thigh. “But I’m still stronger than you. Besides—“ He slapped her cheek. “You don’t want to make me angry.”

The blow didn’t sting as much as the earlier ones had but she got the message. She wouldn’t resist, at least not now.

To her shock, he threaded the loose end of the new rope between her legs and then drew it upward so the strands settled against her crack. Positioned the way she was, she couldn’t see what he was securing the rope to behind her, something so high he had to strain to reach it. He tugged, forcing her arms even lower and making her lean over. Cotton pressed against her pussy.

He stepped away from her. “That should hold you. It won’t be comfortable. In fact the longer you have to stand there, the greater the strain.” The corners of his mouth lifted. “Think on the reasons behind my actions while you wait for me to return. It’ll help you pass the time.”

When he extended his hand toward her, she winced and tried to move away. However, instead of slapping her again, he patted her cheek.

“
Sometimes I want to hear a subject’s vocalizations, sometimes I don’t. Right now I want it quiet here.” He frowned. “I didn’t have to tell you that, I could simply…”

Still frowning, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a red rubber ball with leather straps attached to it. Having seen several online BDSM sites, she recognized it as a gag.

“
Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” he told her. “Depending on my mood, I get major turned on when a subject struggles, but this isn’t one of those times.”

I hate you, I hate you,
she chanted as he pressed the ball into her mouth. When it was in as far as it would go, he fastened the straps at the back of her neck with her hair trapped under the leather. When she started drooling, she shook her head trying to dislodge it.

“
Fight it if you want to, but I suggest you save your energy. Believe me, when I gag a slave she stays gagged.”

Slave. That word again.

He unsnapped the chain from her collar but left it dangling from the post. After studying her for a moment, he ran his hand from her wrists to her fingers.

“
Your circulation’s intact. Fight this little contraption I’ve set up and the rope will dig into you more than it already is. In other words, the amount of discomfort you experience while I’m gone is entirely up to you.” He slid a hand between her legs, pushed up on the stands flattening her labial lips. She whimpered into the gag.

“
Not the most enjoyable thing that’s ever happened to your pussy, but that too is part of today’s lesson.” He withdrew out, took hold of her hips, and turned her away from him. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered. “A little adjustment needed here.”

Her head sagged and she repeatedly tightened and relaxed her fingers as he repositioned the rope until it was between her ass cheeks. He slapped her right buttock, then her left, the right again, followed by the left.

She didn’t want to move, damn it. He wasn’t hitting her that hard, more a tease than a spanking so why did she jump and fight her bondage with every blow?

“
I’ll return.” He grabbed the rope and jerked up, forcing her onto her toes. “That’ll give you something else to think about, I
will
return.”

By the time her captor started up the stairs, she was exhausted. His footsteps faded, letting her know she was alone.

He’d secured the rope against her pussy and ass hole to a high stair railing. If she had use of her arms, she could have reached up and untied it, but of course he’d made that impossible.

She couldn’t call for help, couldn’t move from where he’d placed her. Tight as the bonds were, she couldn’t straighten. Until he returned, her sex would remain trapped and sensitive. Her shorts and briefs were still around her knees.

He could and would do whatever he wanted with her for as long as he wanted.

She belonged to him.

Chapter seven

By the time he reached the loft where his bedroom was, Reno had reconciled himself to taking a prescription pain pill. Damn it, except for the occasional night, he’d been able to stay off the heavy stuff. Of course, he unnecessarily reminded himself as he went into the adjacent bathroom, he hadn’t asked this much of his body since before the accident.

After swallowing the pill and using the toilet, he kicked off his shoes and eased onto the bed. He didn’t pull a blanket over him because if he was too comfortable who knows how long he’d sleep and he didn’t want to damage the merchandise.

He’d given into crazy impulse, brought a captive here.

Captive? Not a slave in training?

Damn it, he wasn’t going to let stupid word choices get between him and a nap. He was what he was, and she was—something.

What was her name?

Why had he brought her to his retreat, his place of peace?

And what was he going to do with her?

#

“
You want the truth? I’m not surprised.”

Resisting the urge to hold his cell phone away from his ear so he could glare at it, Reno mentally replayed what his co-worker had just said. Damek and he had started working for Carnal around the same time and had collaborated on several slave trainings. Damek had been the first person to come see him in the hospital, the only one to show up more than once. More importantly, Damek’s expression had said he realized something had changed about his co-worker but he knew not to press the issue.

“
What’s she like?” Damek asked. “I take it you chose someone without a support system and has the qualities we look for.”

We? What about me?

“
I don’t know much about her,” he admitted. He’d been somewhere between asleep and awake when Damek called and was still trying to get with the program. “You’ve done it yourself. When you come across a broad with the submissive qualities you’re looking for, you know it.”

“
What makes you think she’s submissive?”

“
I know, damn it.”

Damek chuckled. “Yeah, you do. I’ll hand you that. So you brought her to the cabin. That surprises me.”

Me too.
“What else could I to do with her, keep her in some damn motel? Maybe rent an apartment and hope the neighbors don’t hear?”

“
You didn’t have to grab her.”

No, he didn’t. “Go to hell.”

“
Don’t get on my case. I’m just pointing out the obvious.” Damek cleared his throat. “No, I’m doing more than that. The cabin’s your sanctuary. What is it you told me, that you never bring anyone from Carnal there because you don’t believe in mixing your business and personal lives.”

“
You’ve been here.”

“
Yeah.”

As he waited for his fellow slave trainer to say something, he picked up his shoes only to drop them and reach for his slippers. Going by the clock near the headboard, he figured he’d slept about an hour. His body was humming, proof that the pain pill had kicked in. He was still a little groggy but that was fading.

“
I picked up on some gossip involving you,” Damek said. “Sounds like you agreed to take a look at a couple of new hires. Were you coming back from that when you grabbed her?”

“”
Yeah. What did management say?”

“
A couple of things. You look better than they thought you would.”

“
What was the other thing?” he asked even though he was pretty sure he knew.

“
Paul and Dwight both asked what drugs you were on. They said you acted like you didn’t give a damn about the operation. You didn’t ask about the improvements going on at the West facility.”

“
Right now I don’t care,” he admitted. He trusted Damek to keep his mouth shut. Otherwise he wouldn’t have said a word. “Management asked me to comment on the two apprentices and that’s what I did. I told them to get rid of one because he’s a damn sadist. The other has possibilities.”

“
For the record,” Damek said, “they took your advice. The last thing Carnal needs is a trainer who ruins the merchandise. By the way, management asked me if you’d said anything about when you might come back to work. We need you.”

“
I’m not ready.” He rubbed his leg.

“
Physically or emotionally?”

“
Go to hell.”

Damek sighed. “That’s what I thought. Maybe grabbing her is proof that you’re getting ready to get back in the saddle.”

“
Maybe.”

Working for Carnal Incorporated paid more bills than anything else he’d ever done, not that he had much of a resume. All of the facilities were first class and for the most part he could pick when he wanted to be on the clock. As for the work itself—hell, what man wouldn’t want to spend his life pawing and endless succession of naked female flesh?