Carnal Captive

Carnal Captive

By

Vonna Harper

Copyright 2012 Vonna Harper

Author’s note: Carnal Captive is pure fiction. I sincerely hope no organization like Carnal Incorporated exists. Writing such an edgy and dark story
took
me out of my comfort zone
but what’s life without some challenges?
If you’re uncomfortable with the idea of powerful men and helpless women, I
encourage you to
go elsewhere for your reading.
Otherwise,
I’m glad to hav
e you along for the ride
.

Chapter One

Bay
Dennan
wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, a dungeon
most likely.
Then
the
four
women
shuffled in
and
he no longer cared where the hell he was.
Muted lights in the large living room
h
ighlighted
their
exquisite
nude bodies
. Just like that,
his cock tighten
ed
.

Pulling out a neutral expression he sure as hell didn’t feel, Bay tightened his hold on his brandy sniffer and turned toward his host,
a
slim, middle-aged man who’d introduced himself as Thomas Smith.

“Interesting
.
”
Bay
spoke quietly so the three men gathered around the mahogany bar at the
back of the room
couldn’t hear. 

“That’s all?”
Thomas
questioned from where he sat across from Bay in a
deep red
leather recliner identical to the one Bay had been offered. “I encourage my guests to speak their minds. That’s what Carnal Incorporated is about, at least it is for the members. The slaves—“ Thomas shrugged his bony shoulders. “
A
s I’m sure you’ve concluded,
their opinions and wants don’t
factor in
.”

“
Do
they have opinions
and desires
?
”

Thomas sipped delicately, then extended his sniffer toward the silent and unmoving women. Their arms were at their sides, toes digging into the plush white carpet, heads and eyes downcast.

“
I’m sure they did
, before
the organization
took possession of them. Take your time, Bay. Study them. Then let me know your conclusions.”

Study them. Hell, as if he could take his eyes off the
lovely creatures
. Just because their breasts and pussies were exposed didn’t mean some parts of their bodies weren’t covered. All four—three
brunettes
and a blonde—had metal collars around their necks. Leather straps with rings imbedded in them circled their wrists and ankles.
T
wo foot lengths of chain
were
connected to the ankle
jewelry
.

Faint perfume, something flowery, emanated from them. Their uniformly shoulder-length hair shinned. Their eyes were heavily made up. In contrast, their lips were bare. All four were slender with full breasts and deliciously rounded hips. There wasn’t so much as a shadow of pubic hair. As a
just retired professional football player
accustomed to having women throw themselves at him, he
’d seen his share of
shaved pussies, but there was something
o
bscene about this display. Bottom line, the broads had had no say in the denuding. This had been done to them.

Same with the slim rings through their nipples and sex lips.

“
Well?
”
T
he older man caressed Bay’s knee. “I believe I’ve given you ample time to draw your conclusions.”

Congratulatory hugs, slaps, and punches on the football field were one thing. Being pawed by a scrawny man old enough to be his father was another. Still, Bay didn’t
pull
away. He’d come here for one thing, his own slave. Whatever it took, he’d play Thomas’ game. Besides, Thomas needed him—or rather his money—as much as the other way around.

“They’re in prime physical condition.” He made himself sound as if he was talking about a car he was considering buying. “Damn good muscle development. No fat. And their boobs
look
real.”

The blonde lifted her head enough for Bay to realize she hated being described this way.
N
o one had herded them in here.
However, they sure as hell
hadn’t
willingly
entered the room. They
’d
simply accepted they had no choice.

No choice. He liked that—as long as it wasn’t happening to him.

He’d had enough of that for a lifetime.

Time for the tables to turn and for him to call the shots.

“
Are you sure about the breasts?” Thomas asked as he removed his hand from Bay’s knee. “There are some really good plastic jobs out there.”

“I’ve handled enough knockers to know fake from real.”

He was a little lit, just enough that his eyes took too long to refocus
when he turned his head
, not enough that he didn’t know exactly what was going on. The three men who’d been fixing themselves drinks were heading toward the broads.
Sudden anger laced through him. The bitches
had been brought here for him! They were the come-on, a sample of the merchandise he
intend
ed to buy.

Stomping down on his
irritation
—something that had never come easy—he leaned back and watched as the heaviest of the men stepped behind one of the
brunettes
and wrapped
an
arm around her waist. Holding out his liquor glass, he pulled
her
against him. With her arms trapped against her sides, she’d have a hard time fighting the man who weighed more than twice what she did. The way she stared at the far wall told him she didn’t want this. To her credit—or the credit of whoever had trained her—she rubbed her ass against what Bay had no doubt was a
n engorged
dick
.

“This one’s new
.
”
T
he big man
bit the slave’s shoulder
, making her gasp
. “At least I’ve never seen her.”

“I b
rought
her
in
last week,” Thomas explained. “Not sure whether I’ll keep her. Depends on how well she scratches my itches.
”

Another man laughed. “Hey Cliff, let’s see her ass.
Has
Thomas marked it yet
?
”

Grumbling, Cliff pushed the slave away, turning her as he did. Maybe sixty watts of light settled over sweet buttocks striped with at least a dozen thin slashes. A scab on two
of them
said
Thomas had drawn blood.

“Yeah,” the man who’d laughed said. “No doubt about it, you’ve been playing with her.”

Playing.
That’s what the world called what he’d done for a living
until his contract hadn’t been renewed
last
year
. He’d known th
e
day would come, that a constantly pummeled-on body could only take so much. What he hadn’t been prepared for was no longer having an outlet for
his
ferocious
energy
.

No
w, maybe, he’d found it
.

“I’ll tell you what, boys,”
Thomas said. “We’ll let our newest guest take his pick of the merchandise. The rest of us
can
fight over what’s left.”

“I should have brought my slave,” Cliff grumbled. “You know I don’t like sharing.”

Thomas
shrugged
. “Your slave bores you. Time to trade her in on a new model.”

Cliff’s harsh laugh made the slaves start. “I can’t get shit for that piece of meat and you know it. She’s worn out.”

“Because you don’t know how to pace yourself. Stop being so cheap and fork over for
unspoiled
merchandise. You can afford our prices.”

Cliff muttered something, but Bay didn’t give a damn. He’d
cooled his heels for nearly two months
while
whoever
handled security at
Carnal Incorporated investigate
d
him. He’d met all their requirements, passed all their tests. Now he could put in his order for his own
merchandise.

Finishing his drink in a gulp, he stared at the
naked quartet
.
His introduction to Carnal Incorporated had begun
when someone sent him
a video
following a night at a strip club
. He’d figured the video had come from the club owner, probably a thank-you because he’d brought a half dozen heavy tippers with him. Instead of more of what he’d seen
at the club
, he’d been treated to a half hour of a naked and bound woman
giving a faceless man a blow job
while another
man
systematically lashed her
lush ass.

She’d
perched high
on her knees
with
her wrists tethered
prayer-like
to the band around her slender throat. Her ankles had been crossed one over the other and held in place by another band.
Most of the time t
he man she was sucking on kept her face smashed against his crotch via his grip on her hair. No matter how frantically she worked him, his companion kept up the steady cadence of blows. Finally the
recipient of her skills
shoved her
away
, slapping her cheek
as he did
. She started to fall only to be jerked back in place via the hair hold.
White, sticky cream shot from the jerking cock and
coated
her
face.

The s
ounds—a man grunting like a stuck pig, a switch striking vulnerable flesh, a woman trying not to cry—
had been
Bay
’s undoing
. Freeing his painfully swollen cock, he’d jerked off.

Th
at
video
and the ones that came after it
had
changed
him.

“You make up your mind?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah.” Bay had to work at not licking his lips. His earlier assumption that the
brunettes
were pretty much interchangeable
had changed
. Two were probably within a few months of the same age, early twenties while the third
didn’t look
old enough to drink legally. She had the largest and most erect knockers with a waist he could get his hands around. No way did she weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds. He jerked his head at her. “How old is she?”

The slave shivered but kept staring at the carpet.

“Nineteen.”

“Not younger?”

“What do you care?”

Standing, he walked over to he
r
and gripped her breasts in his massive hands. Perfect. “Go on, bitch.
T
ell me how old you are.”

An
other shiver wracked her body
. “Nineteen, Master. Nineteen.”

Master. Was there a more perfect word?

He tightened his hold on what belonged to him for the rest of the night if he wanted.
“She’ll do.”

“We get to watch,” the man who hadn’t yet spoken said. “Make sure you’ve got the technique right.”

“Not a problem.” Bay had figured it would be like that. After all, the slave belonged to Carnal Incorporated. No way would the
organization
risk a newcomer harming the merchandise. “But we’ll do it my way.”

“Which is?” Thomas asked.

Damn but he loved holding onto breasts and not having to think about whether the woman
was
into being pawed
. All those years of coaches, owners, and leagues throwing rules at him
no longer mattered a shit
.

“Putting her jewelry to use.” He pressed his palms against her ringed nipples. Her arms twitched but remained by her sides.