Caged. Captured. Confined.: The Illicit Romance Reader’s Dark BDSM Collection Page 3

  He lit a small lamp, the glow it cast played along the edge of the razor. Literally paralyzed with fear she watched him come closer, the razor in one long lean hand and a small bar of soap in the other. “I’m going to shave you. You have two options, stay still and enjoy iy or fight and risk death from an opened vein. Do you understand?”

  Her voice was dead in her throat. She nodded her head, her fingers clutching desperately at the sides of the tub. He never took his eyes off of her face as he took off his suit jacket and shirt to reveal an incredibly muscular chest and arms, a taut and lean waist and abs that looked like corrugated steel. His pants showed his flat thighs and narrow hips and firm ass.

  He pulled a small stool up to the side of the tub. He reached into the water, drawing one of her legs out of the steaming depths and over the side. The porcelain was cold and she gasped at the sensation but his hand ran slowly from the ball of her foot to her ankle, stroking her. Her violent shivering stilled and she slid back into the water, the fear still present but tempered with excitement.

  The soap smelled of jasmine and lilacs. The aroma filled the air and she sighed as he rubbed the rich lather up and down her leg. The razor lingered above her flesh for a heart stopping moment then it slid across it. The steel was cold and she had to deliberately control her breathing to keep from hyperventilating.

  Down the razor came, wiping away the lather to reveal freshly shaven skin, it dipped into the water and came back. His skill was obvious and a certain eroticism born of fear and the knowledge that at any moment that razor, and the man holding it, could turn brutal overtook her senses.

  Her nipples hardened. She crossed her arms over her breasts in embarrassment. If he noticed he gave no sign. Her pussy pulsed and throbbed, she had to fight the urge to reach down and rub it. He finished both legs and, with one hand, lifted her out of the tub so that her back was arched and her pubic mound exposed.

  “No!” she gasped as she read his intention in his handsome face. The soap rubbed into her labia, his fingers lingered a little too long on that sensitive flesh. Her hips thrust back at him as he swirled his fingers around her clit in a slow and deliberate circle. She closed her eyes but they jerked back open as the razor kissed her skin. Juices ran out of her coral and pink tunnel. Her ass clenched and her fingers clenched the rim of the tub in a whole different type of desperation.

  The shaving was done. He took up a small bottle and poured some of the pearly liquid from it into his hand. She whimpered in surrender as his strong fingers kneaded the fragrant stuff into her scalp. Her eyes closed and she lay against the tub’s sides, oblivious to everything but him and the sensations he was bringing to her. Finally he told her to stand. She did and he turned a knob, hot water sluiced out of a small attachment and he used it to rinse her skin and hair before turning off the tap and drying her in one of the long thick towels he had laid out.

  She followed him, her nude body still loose and languid from the heat, to a small table that had been set up close to where the mattress had been. She could tell someone else had been in the dungeon, the missing mattress and the table were proof of that but she had no idea of when or who.

  The table was set with small cups and a pot of strong coffee, empty plates and a large serving dish that held a variety of delectable foods: feta cheese, hummus, pita breads stacked up neatly, kofte, slices of juicy melon and aubergine salad. There was only one chair and he took it. She stood there, unsure of what to do.

  He indicated the floor beside the table and she sat down, her face burning with humiliation. She wanted to ignore him and the cup of coffee he pressed into her hands but she couldn’t. “Here,” he said and held a tiny morsel of food out to her. She thought of saying no but hunger won out. She opened her mouth and he slid the melon inside her lips.

  For nearly half an hour they sat there, him eating from his plate and feeding her from his hand. The humiliation of it mingled with the weirdest sense that she was being cared for in an incredibly intimate and loving manner. It was too confusing to understand so she pushed trying to comprehend away and just savored the spicy, flavorful food, the hot and aromatic coffee.

  The dinner ended and he spoke. “You may wonder why you’re here.”

  She stared up at him, “Yes.”

  “I’m Dante, the Master of the men who took you and the ones who tested you last night. We are a tribe that was once mighty but over the years our numbers have decreased greatly. We…we had mighty women in our tribe once but that was long ago, now no women remain with us.”

  Without pause, he held out another morsel of food and placed it in her mouth.

  “That means we have no children. We have to have children in order for the Tribe to remain on the earth, we need warriors and protectors. And we need them now, before we are all gone. That is why you are here.”

  “I’m sorry…I don’t understand. What do you want with me?” Incredulity laced her words. “Do you intend to force me to have children with you…for you?”

  “Just one. We would never force you to have more than one. After the birth you will be released, your memory wiped and you will be able to go back to your life.”

  Her mind grappled with her rage and shock. “Are you serious? After a year I can go back to my life like nothing ever happened?’

  “Our kind is not like yours. You won’t be pregnant for months, only a few weeks. You will return home from your vacation a little behind schedule. You don’t have a job lined up and your rent won’t fall behind at your apartment that I can promise you.”

  “Your kind?” the memory of the wolves came back. Horror made her mouth dry, “You…you aren’t human!”

  “To be fair many of your kind are not human either. You have only to read the news to understand that.” Dante replied dryly.

  That wry logic effectively silenced her for a few seconds anyway. “You were watching me!”

  “Yes, from the time you arrived.” Dante replied.

  “You can’t make me do this.”

  He flew up from the chair and his strong hands gripped her upper arms as he yanked her to her feet. The dungeon blurred around them, his movements were so fast she could not even comprehend what was happening until he stopped in front of the long chains that dangled from a massive hook set deeply into an old beam high in the ceiling.

  The manacles she had worn before were light compared to the ones that dangled from the ends of the chain, she cried out in pain as her arms were hoisted high overhead. Her breasts were forced outward; the stack of her ribs prominent and her ass was yanked backward and upward. She fought but the chains were too heavy, too solid. Her arms ached within seconds and her feet barely touched the floor. Beneath her toes grit and dust swirled and crunched.

  “I can make your body do anything I want it to do.”

  Dante’s breath blew across her cheek, hot and too close. She shivered, her nipples growing taut. The desire and the humiliation of her position combined with rage and she howled, rattling the chains, shaking them despite the toll it took on her body.

  Fingers pressed into her spine, teeth sank into her neck. Icy hot pain drilled into her flesh and she screamed, strong fingers moved around her body, his thumbs and index fingers twisted her nipples painfully.

  A finger slid into the cleft of her ass, sliding away just as the pleasure it brought registered. The teeth left her neck and breath blew across the tiny sensitive spot right above her tailbone. Then he bit her, his teeth grinding into her flesh once more and eliciting another scream from her.

  He yanked her backwards, his fingers dancing along the ridges of her ribs, moving upward until he was back at her breasts. He kneaded them and trickles of slippery juice ran down her legs unbidden. His fingers rolled her nipples, making them tighten almost painfully. He dropped his hands caressing her concave belly and hipbones. One finger stroked across the cleanly shaven mound of her pussy.

  Her thighs shook and her breath was a hard pant. The finger stroked her labia, ran along the sea
m and then thrust inside her. She shuddered and sobbed as her pussy became even wetter. He kept up the pressure, his fingers sliding inside her and then stroking up onto her clit. Squirmy little sensations shot through her spine and she whimpered and tried to hump his fingers but he slapped her ass, hard, and told her to stay still.

  “You don’t like this, remember?” Dante taunted.

  He moved to the front of her body. He stripped away his pants and shoes, revealing his gorgeously sculpted legs and long hard prick. The head of it was swollen and shiny, and the shaft was heavy and full. A large vein throbbed across the smooth surface and a thick nest of coarse black curls lay at the junction of his thighs.

  He stroked his cock with his long fingers, watching the flush that crept across Gia’s face as she watched those movements with a helpless fascination. He moved closer, the hard cock poking into her upper thigh and she gasped. She wanted him to fuck her, wanted it more than anything she had ever wanted. Her legs parted and her ass shot forward, raising her pelvis in a wordless plea.

  Dante grabbed her hair and yanked her face to his. His mouth plundered her own; his tongue opened her lips, tangled against her own tongue and probed the corners of her mouth in a demanding kiss that left her breathless and shaken.

  His hard thigh slid up between her legs and his hands held onto her hips. She cried out as those hard smooth muscles rubbed against the fragile flesh of her wet slit, abrading it. An orgasm loomed close but he sensed it and yanked backward, leaving her dangling from her chains and on the precipice of the orgasm.

  “I can make you do anything I want.” He said into her ear. “I can make your body do anything I want it to do. Don’t ever forget that. In this place I am the Master.”

  Gia whimpered. Her body was at war with her mind, all of her emotions were tangled and her thoughts were too erratic for her to force them into any kind of sensible chain. All she knew was that she wanted him, wanted to feel his hard cock inside her, no matter what the cost.

  Dante moved away. There was a low whispering in the air and she felt a soft little brush against her hair, it parted and moved over her shoulder.

  “This is a whip,” Dante said in a conversational tone. “I am going to teach you a lesson and if you learn it then I will give you what you want. Do you understand me?”

  A whip? Horror and terror made her fight the chains once more but he waited until she her desperate attempts failed and she hung there, silent and waiting. The whip was a beauty: six feet of hand braided leather with a long thin popper made of nylon. It was that end piece, the popper, with which one was supposed to hit the target and Dante had long since mastered that skill.

  The whip brushed her skin again, lightly. Gia, recalling the movies she had seen that had shown people with ripped open backs and bleeding skin, relaxed without thinking about it as the whip continued to dance lightly across her flesh.

  “It’s not so bad,” she thought and just then he applied a harder stroke, one that stung as it landed. She screamed but her skin, warmed up from the whip’s kisses, tingled enjoyably below the pain. Again and again the whip cracked through the air, the hard sharp noise making her jump and the strokes making her groan. Her thighs rubbed together as she tried to put pressure onto her clit, to ease the unbearable need there.

  Finally the whipping stopped. The sound of Dante’s footsteps across the distance between them was very loud. His hands rubbed at her flesh, lessening the pain there. “Have you learned your lesson?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was it?”

  “That you can hurt me or please me, at your will.”

  “Yes,” his fingers soothed her hurts and his voice calmed her. “I am going to take you down now.”

  The chains rattled and exquisite agony flooded into her as her arms fell back to her sides. The pain that she had endured from the weight and the position had left her nearly numb and pins and needles itched and burned in her hands and shoulders.

  “On your knees,” he said and she dropped to her knees, looking askance at him. His hand guided his cock into her mouth. She opened her lips eagerly, her tongue flickering along the smooth surface of his head and down the shaft. He waited as she positioned herself and teased him for a bit before bobbing her head and taking him all in, tightening her throat and lips as she did so to provide the maximum amount of pressure for him.

  The only sounds were the eager slurping of her efforts and his occasional grunt or sigh. She dipped her head lower, licking at his balls. He lifted his weight onto the balls of his feet and she sucked his balls into her mouth, running her tongue across the surface of them as she suckled.

  His balls began to tighten, move up and his hands pushed her away. She landed on her back in the middle of the floor. He reached down and picked her up as easily as if she were a child’s toy. His strength was breathtaking and a little frightening. Her legs wrapped around his waist automatically and his cock teased at her lips before he thrust upward and into her.

  He filled her completely. Her wet channel opened further, wider, to accommodate the long heavy weight of him. He pumped harder, his hands grasping her hips and moving her up and down, sliding her along the span of his prick. Their breath mingled as he kissed her savagely, his mouth matching the rhythm of their fucking.

  Gia cried out, an orgasm exploding from her. Her sticky sweet juices drenched her inner thighs and his cock. He slammed her down onto him faster, harder and she clenched and unclenched the muscles of her thighs as a second, then a third orgasm broke over her.

  She felt him tensing up, his hands locked down on her hips and his belly went even tighter. His prick gave a few hard twitches and then his seed spurted inside her walls. She held onto his neck and shoulders as he groaned and thrust a few more times, emptying his seed totally.

  Slowly he withdrew from her body and let her down. Her feet hit the floor and she moaned in protest. His body heat was still imprinted onto her skin. She could smell the musky scent of him in the air; feel the soreness inside her that was the last remnant of their passion.

  He held her to his chest for a long moment and when she lowered her head she could hear the heavy slow beat of his heart. That surprised her. He had a heartbeat. So, he wasn’t human but he had a heart. For some reason that made her feel infinitely better.

  “I could stay with you.”

  “No, you can’t. The others are not able to create children with human women. That is why they didn’t enter you that way. They had the right to take you according to their tastes and they did but if you stayed you would be bred repeatedly and that is not our intention. We need children who can grow and mate with the others.”

  Tears stung her eyes, humiliation flooded through her.

  “You are not the same person you were when you arrived here and you will carry those changes forward with you in your life, even if the memory of this is gone.”

  “Maybe I won’t want to forget.”

  His face was stony. She knew that he would not let her go back to the world knowing of his existence, the existence of the child she would bear for him. He was the Master of his tribe and his tribe was dying, he would do whatever was necessary to assure its survival.

  “It isn’t your choice.”

  She turned from him angrily, as he gathered up his clothes, dressed and left the dungeon. The fair-haired man came back in a few minutes later, a clean mattress on his back and a plate of food in one hand. The bar of sunlight had widened and grown even more brilliant. She stared at it, wondering how much of this would filter back in, if it were possible to keep some memory despite his efforts to erase all of them.

  She sat at the table and began to eat, her eyes on the sunlight and her body craving his touch. She found herself wondering if he would take her again, if it would be necessary. She found she rather hoped it was.

  When I Get You Alone in a Secluded Shed:

  A BDSM Fantasy for Women

  By

  Alpha Dom

  Good evening, ge
ntle reader. Sit, be silent, and prepare to be told what I will do when I get you alone.

  Firstly, before you’re even sure if you wish to play this game of wills, I tie a blindfold over your eyes so you can’t see a thing. The fabric feels soft against your skin, but it’s thick enough that you can barely see light through it. Not that there’s much light to see. Outside, the sun is setting.

  Dusk closes in as I undress you, stripping off every layer of clothing until you’re naked from head to toe. No silky blouse to caress your arms. No bra to support your full, luscious breasts. No skirt to cover your shapely legs or panties to hide your eager pussy. Why are you so wet, my pet? You’ve barely felt the brush of my fingers against your bare flesh and already you’re gushing like a schoolgirl? You should be ashamed of yourself.

  Are you ashamed?

  No, I see that smirk on your lips. You’re proud of your arousal and now that I’ve noticed it you’re anxious to show me what you can do. Hold up, little pony. We’ve a long way to go before nightfall.

  As I tie your hands behind your back with a rough length of rope, you wouldn’t dare struggle against me. God only knows what I might do. I might leave you naked, alone, and bound. And then you’d never discover the pleasures I can give to you.

  When I take you by the shoulders and lead you, shoeless, out the door, you whimper like a sick puppy. You ask if the neighbors will see. Your gait slows because you’re concerned they might spot you in the altogether.

  Rather than pushing you from behind, I put my mouth right up close to your ear and I whisper, “What are you so afraid of? You’ve got the best body on the block.”

  You giggle nervously before I put you out of your misery. “Don’t fret,” I say. “I’m taking you through the garage.”

  Your shoeless feet move easily now, as I lead you down two concrete steps and into the garage. You stand perfectly still as I open the trunk. You must know what’s coming. Your body goes limp the moment I heave you into my strong arms. There’s no fight in you as I fold your body onto the itchy synthetic material. Your poor soft skin doesn’t know what it’s in for tonight.