Carnal Slave (4 page)

“I sure as hell don’t want to touch you the way you are.” He roughly brushed dirt off her breasts. “Clean up time.”

He used his hold on her hair to make her go where he wanted. At least he slowed his pace so she was able to walk after a fashion. Intent as she was on not falling, she barely looked around. Several other vehicles were near Damek’s, and she thought she heard a masculine voice in the distance.

He herded her to what might have once been a cattle watering station. The outdoor faucet was still there, but there was no trough. A coiled hose with a spray attachment was connected to the faucet and someone had placed a metal pole in the ground nearby. A wooden pallet was next to the pole and gravel had been spread around the area. The gravel and pallet looked wet.

“Not the Ritz.” Damek chuckled and turned her so her back was to him.

Gratitude mixed with an intense burning sensation when he unlocked her handcuffs.

Her numb arms dropped to her sides. The useless robe slipped off, leaving her totally naked. He spun her toward him again, lifting her hands as he did. She looked up to see two lengths of leather dangling from chains attached to the pole. Even though she understood what he had in mind, memories of her recent abuse kept her from trying to break free. In seconds he’d secured the thick, stiff leather around her wrists. She couldn’t lower her arms.

Smiling a smile that made her think of a mountain lion, he lifted her onto the pallet.

Then he left her and slowly unwound the hose. He turned on the faucet and triggered the nozzle. A hard spray shot out, catching the sun’s rays.

He was going to
shower
her.

“There’s warm water in there.” He jerked his head at the ranch house. “But it’s not for the likes of you.”

She’d tensed before the cold water struck her, but being prepared didn’t help. The spray pounded her breasts. Squealing into the gag, she turned her back to the attack. Laughing, he directed the water at her buttocks and between her legs. This was no gentle watering. Instead, she felt as if a million tiny knives were striking her.

Lost in pain and cold, she jerked left and right. The onslaught striking different parts of her body helped a little, but he showed her no mercy as he directed the water over every inch she unwillingly presented to him. She kept pulling on the overhead chains which made the leather cut into her wrists but couldn’t stop herself. Twice she lost her perch on the pallet only to crawl back onto it to so gravel wouldn’t dig into the bottoms of her feet.

The earlier kicking had bruised her in countless places. The cruel stream further abused those spots until she became a pain-filled mass. Her throat throbbed so from screaming that she stopped. Her sopping hair nearly blinded her. She realized he was aiming the nozzle at her crotch. Whimpering, she started to again turn away.

Why try? It won’t do any good.

If this was the voice of reason, she didn’t want anything to do with it. Just the same, she was shaking so violently she couldn’t think how to make her legs move. Spent, she faced her attacker. Water dribbled off her nose. She tried to lap at it, but the gag stopped her.

“Getting the message, are you?” He dialed the nozzle until a broad, fine spray replaced the earlier stream. “There you are surrounded by water but unable to drink a damn drop. From now on slave, I control the most basic things about your existence.”

Slave?
Oh God, what hell was she in?

No matter how she tried to get past the horrible word, it expanded and expanded until it became everything. She barely noticed when he turned the water on her face.

Slave.

Weeping, she sagged.

#

He’d left her to drip dry, Willow belatedly realized. She was still trembling from the cold so it couldn’t have been that long, could it? Maybe. After all, the sun had dried her shoulders and back, and her hair had stopped dripping.

She was done in. Beyond exhausted. Hungry and thirsty. Unable to move.

Maybe the sun was responsible but maybe being alone for the first time in what felt like forever was doing something to her. Whatever the reason, she found the strength—or maybe it was survival instinct—to lift her head and look around. The air smelled of earth and grasses and other things she didn’t recognize. She hadn’t noticed that Damek had taken her deep into the cyclone enclosure. Looking at it now, she had no doubt that this was it felt like to be in prison.

The only things lacking was coiled barbed wire at the top and a watchtower with an armed guard.

Slave.

Shaking back her hair, she forced the horrendous word aside. What had Damek said, something about her learning more about her situation when he decided. She’d listen, look, learn.

And when the pieces had fallen together, what then?

This
ranch
belonged to the shadowy and ominous Carnal Incorporated—for what purpose?

For turning you into a slave.

From earliest childhood, she’d been told that a parent’s role was to mold a child in His image. There was only one way to think, a single way to act. Rules were stringent and any deviation was a sin. She’d never mindlessly bought into her parents’ fundamentalist beliefs, but she’d been a teenager before she found the desperate courage to tell them they were wrong.

She hadn’t seen her family in five years and considered herself stronger for it. Her only regret was that they’d never acknowledge the kind of woman she’d become. She wasn’t perfect. She still lacked confidence and didn’t question authority, but at least she wasn’t a puppet.

Or rather she hadn’t been one before today. Now chains and leather controlled her every movement.

She vaguely remembered seeing Damek go inside the ranch house. Eventually he’d come back for her. Until then—A hollow-sounding scream coming from the closer of the two barns killed her thought.

Alarmed, she strained to listen. Seconds marched on. At length she managed to relax a little.

Maybe she’d only thought she’d heard a woman cry out in pain.

She’d started to turn her attention to the house when another scream sliced the air. The crier was indeed in the barn. Even with the structure distorting the sound and making it echo, she recognized despair. More silence followed. Then, maybe ten seconds later, the woman shrieked. She sounded lost. Overwhelmed.

Get me out of here! Please, someone, before that’s me!

The ranch house door opened, and three men stepped out. They were a good two hundred feet away, but she recognized Damek as the one on the right. Watching him descend the porch stairs along with the others, she fought an insane need to laugh. She’d just begged for someone to rescue her, but that wasn’t why Damek was coming.

Looking for all the world like prison guards approaching a prisoner, they walked over to her. Damek looked tired.

“I was doing fine until I had breakfast,” he said. “Then the sleepless night hit me.”

“I know what you’re talking about,” a muscular man who looked to be in his mid-forties replied. “I did the all-night drive last week. You want us to
entertain
her while you get some sleep?”

Damek shook his head. “She isn’t ready for the kind of entertainment you have in mind.”

“In other words, she has to earn being fucked. Any idea how she’ll take to that?”

“I gave her a bit of a taste on the way here. I already knew she’s hot to trot.”

How did he know that? Had he somehow gotten Mitch to talk about their relationship?

“She’s all right,” the other man said, staring at her. “Nothing spectacular. That blonde hair’s a plus.”

“Those are her own boobs. These days they go higher with most buyers than the fake jobs.”

The man who’d said she wasn’t anything spectacular nodded. He had a full head of gray hair but didn’t look much older than Damek. If she’d seen the three on the street she’d think they were businessmen who regularly hit the gym, but they weren’t that at all, were they?

“It’s going to be an interesting auction,” the one who’d had a long dive said. “One of the bigger ones. Anyone know who came up with the idea?”

“My guess,” Damek said, “is foreign investors. Oil wealth makes them think they own the world.”

“Yeah, they do.”

“As long as I get paid this well to do something I love, I don’t give a damn.”

They didn’t care that she heard everything they said. That wouldn’t be happening if they thought of her as an equal. Equal? No, she wasn’t that.

A long, thin sob coming from the barn jolted her. She couldn’t stop herself from trying to put distance between herself and the evil structure.

“What’s going on?” Damek asked.

“Cliff’s been having a hell of a time with his slave. Sounds like he’s finally getting her attention.”

Damek frowned. “Cliff’s impatient. He’s always rushing his subjects.”

The gray haired man lightly punched Damek’s shoulder. “None of us are perfect. How’s that temper of yours?”

“None of your damn business.”

“Maybe. The thing is, we saw what you did to this one when she fell.”

Damek looked at the shoe he’d kicked her with. “I told you, I’m tired.”

The other two men muttered something under their breaths. Between that and the look they exchanged, she guessed Damek’s short fuse concerned them. If her falling because she couldn’t walk enraged him, what—Another distant sob froze her thought. What kind of hell was she in?

“You don’t need us?” the gray haired man asked. “If you’re sure, I want to see what all the screeching ’s about.”

“Go on. We’ll be in in a minute.”

All too soon it was just Damek and her. Dread wrapped around her as he headed for the SUV. Seconds ago she’d stood naked before three strangers and yet her nudity had barely mattered. Now every time she turned in a different direction, she felt overwhelmed all over again. Somehow, some way she
had
to get control of her emotions. Otherwise, she was lost.

When Damek didn’t immediately return, her thoughts went to the poor woman in the barn. She wasn’t making any noise now, but that could change at any time. What was it the man had said, something about the woman doing something Cliff didn’t like.

Do whatever Damek tells you to, anything to stop him from hurting her.

Damek returned carrying a gym bag. The way his arm hung, she knew it was heavy.

“Tools of the trade,” he said and lowered it to the ground. He yawned. “Every trainer has his own favorites.”

Trainer?

He dug into the bag and pulled out a thick length of leather with metal rings imbedded in it at different places. The moment she saw the collar, she knew it wasn’t for a dog. Staring at her as if challenging her to stand her ground, he approached and put it around her neck. She whimpered.

“Getting the idea are you?” He used a key to lock it in place. The maybe four-inch wide collar pressed against her chin so she couldn’t lower her head. Mitch and she had played around with bondage a few times using items they’d bought at an online sex toy shop. Mitch had been interested in a position collar much like this one, but she’d said nothing doing.

What would her former lover think of her now?

Damek hooked a chain to one of the O rings in front. He threaded the chain between her legs and pulled up until she was forced onto her toes.

“Just giving you a hint of what can be done with a few simple tools. What if I gave it a yank and hooked it to your collar in back? Think of it as the ultimate in chastity belts.”

He wouldn’t do that, would he?

An instant later, she answered her question. Hadn’t he already imbedded a dildo in her vagina?

Not taking her attention off him, she mentally slipped back to last night when the relentless vibrations stimulated her. She’d repeatedly lost her ability to concentrate, the forced stimulation had helped keep her sane.

Or maybe the truth was all that stimulation had driven her crazy because otherwise reality would have destroyed her.

“Too bad I’m so tired.” He let up on the pressure, allowing her to stand flat footed again.

“I like to get started on the training right away. Oh well.” He slapped her breasts one at a time.

“Gives you more time to anticipate.”

He let go of the chain, but it remained between her legs. It had slipped down a little so it no longer touched her pussy. Insanely, she longed for the unnatural caress.

“I’ve enjoyed your silence. Just because I’m going to take that gag out of your mouth doesn’t mean I want to hear a word from you, got it?”

No more nasty tasting ball pressing against her teeth and stretching her jaws?

Desperate for the relief, she nodded.

Frowning, he shook his head. “Yeah, right. I’ve learned not to believe anything a slave-in-training tells me.”

Slave-in-training? Truly a nightmare.

He reached behind her and started in on the strap. He seemed to be taking a long time, maybe because he wanted to impress her with his power. Didn’t he know that wasn’t necessary? Finally, thankfully, he pulled the ball out of her mouth. Drool spun a web between her mouth and the red ball.

She started to close her mouth but stopped, afraid to move her jaws, as circulation roared back to life. A moan escaped.

“Damn it!” He slapped her cheek. “What’d I say about not wanting to hear your voice?”

Now in addition to the other pain, her cheek stung. Because of the collar, she’d had no choice but to stand there and let him hit her.

When he opened his mouth, she readied herself for another curse or command, but he only yawned. Weary as she was, she was too tense to think about sleeping.

After rubbing his eyes, he unhooked her hands from above her. She was trying to comprehend what he’d done when he pulled her arms behind her and cuffed them. Next he unfastened her ankles but left the restraint around her right ankle. He pulled the chain from between her legs and struck off for the barn the screaming had come from. Dread slowed her response. He jerked. “Resistance really pisses me off. Believe me, you don’t want me mad.”

Besides, fighting him wouldn’t accomplish anything. Much as she dreaded discovering what was in the barn, she needed to comprehend all she could. If someone was watching her trudge behind her captor, that person probably believed her spirit had been broken.