captive

Zac opened his eyes at the sound of the door opening and lifted his head as much as possible with his arms still tied firmly in place. When he saw who was at the door, his knees gave out, and he would have fallen to the floor if it had been possible. As it was, his loss of control only resulted in the metal bar that was keeping his legs apart digging into his ankles, once again reopening the deep gouges that had begun to heal since the last time his captor had decided to pay him a special visit.



Hardly daring to look, Zac craned his neck to see what his captor was holding this time. Last time it had been a beer bottle — he had thought the fragility of the glass added to the excitement. This time it was…



Zac’s mouth went dry. If the opening of the door had been enough to make him want to fall to his knees, it was nothing compared to how he felt when he saw the ceramic flowerpot clutched in his captor’s latex-gloved hands. The ceramic flowerpot containing a rather large, spiky cactus.



All the blood rushed out of Zac’s face, and he gulped. “Th-that?” he asked, looking down again.



“Why, yes,” his captor drawled, and Zac could hear the grin. He grit his teeth. “You have been noticing our progress, haven’t you?” his captor went on. “When I first came to see you, I would never have dreamed of this. But you’ve improved so much…” Zac heard the sound of footsteps, and then his captor’s grimy bare feet were in the centre of his field of vision. He felt the familiar blindfold being tied around his eyes, his wrists were detached from their holds on the roof and attached to ones on the wall in front of him, forcing him to bend over, and then some more footsteps placed his captor behind him.



Zac knew what was coming, and squeezed his eyes shut beneath the blindfold. But even though he was expecting it, he jumped when the first spikes of the cactus touched his bare arse. His captor chuckled, withdrew, and trailed a single spike softly down his back. Zac fought not to shudder.



And then the cactus was returned to his arse. He clenched his teeth at the now-familiar feeling of his most private orifice being invaded for the umpteenth time, and tried to relax it. It took all of his willpower not to squeeze his arsecheeks together and fight off the assault, but he had been through this before and knew how to best survive it.



The first few times had been bearable enough, and had he allowed himself to, Zac might even have enjoyed it. But he had been so focused on not giving his captor the pleasure of a reaction that he hadn’t let himself respond to the fact that the toothpick, pen, and plastic dildo that the captor had shoved up his arse in turn actually felt good. But then the instruments had grown in size, and the only reaction that he was covering was pain. But he had never let a sound escape his lips while his captor was playing his games, and he wasn’t about to start now.



This cactus, though… after the first minute of teasing, the captor truly began his mission of getting all of it inside his powerless captive. Zac could feel his skin begin to tear, could feel the blood begin to trickle down his legs — and through the pain, there was a bizarre voice telling him “hey, wait, this… feels good?”



His captor kept pushing in short, sharp bursts, making Zac move forward in a spasmic motion with each shove. The voice in his head kept clamouring, and when it was all too much for Zac to take he let go of his desperate determination to remain silent and let out a strangled, breathy moan.



With one more shove, the cactus was in as far as it would go, and his captor let out a victorious shout. “I knew you’d submit to me one day,” he leaned over to whisper in Zac’s ear. He gave the cactus a small push, and Zac moaned again, louder and with less abandon. The captor laughed and grabbed his own cock. Assaulting Zac had already pushed him closed to the edge, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling the cactus out of his captive and replacing it with the soothing warmness of his cum. Zac wilted as the cactus disappeared and sighed with relief as his captor’s seed filled him and spilled onto the floor, where it mixed with his own that been coaxed out of him by the cactus with him hardly even noticing.

Ricks vision began to lighten; the world around him a kaleidoscope of pale swirls. His hearing was coming alive the hum of electric light tubes and a strange ventilation sucking noise filling the air. He sensed the passage of time-was it still evening? He didn’t think so.



His mind tried to retrace his steps.



He remembered sat in his father’s car; Beth was next to him. Beth was his all star girlfriend; going steady for ages now he still couldn’t believe his luck. With her curly blonde hair; tight sweater top and those thrusting tits she was a dream. She had that sassy hipped wiggle and was a diminutive teen angel. Maybe too much the angel he sometimes thought.



“Where are they?” Rick had asked scanning the car park for his friend. Then seeing an uninvited guest approaching added, “oh for fucks sake Beth you didn’t ask him along did you?”



Beth shrugged her shoulders seeing her boyfriends face wince and then gave him that seductive cow eyes that made everything ok.



“Sorry,” she said with an apologetic smile, big blue eyes fluttering under stray blonde locks, “he’s not that bad is he?”



Eagerly waving at the couple was Scooter, Beth’s nerdy neighbour. The young man wiped his flat grease hair in place his tank top looking inappropriate for clubbing.



“Danny will screw.” Rick said under his breath. “You know how that smuck fawns over Sadie when he meets her.”



“Oh please,” Beth said holding his hand giving him a serious questioning stare. “Are you sure its not you being the over protective brother?”



Rick gave the nerd a grunt as he climbed in the back of the car. He’d only just got to terms that Danny was with his precious sisters. The idea that this jerk had aspirations along the same lines was almost beyond comprehension.



Suddenly there was an old high school battle cry from the darkness and Danny and Sadie appeared arm in arm. Danny was impressively big choosing to go the wrestling way back at school rather than Rick’s glory charge on the football pitch and along side Sadie with her waif body and pony tiled blonde mane he looked like a bulldozer.



Rick leaned out to shake his friends hand the blonde skinhead teen giving him a solid grip.



Danny smiled with his cheeky grin then looked into the back of the car. His face then said it all but he still added a pained,”fuck!” Rick just shrugged his shoulders in resignation his younger sister also giving him daggers as if to say, “that’s all we need bro.”



Back in the present in the brightening expanding box Rick could now raise his head. He felt like he’d been kicked by a horse; his brain still spinning in his skull. There was a high pitch voice close by the shrill tones echoing in his new world. His vision tried to make sense of the merging images however the nasally cater hollering was unmistakable.



It was Trilly! “Why, how did she?” Then he remembered.



The club had accepted them with ease, no need for ID or arguments. Even nerd boy had got in looking like a 50′s maths professor. It must have being a quiet night. They danced and partied Beth looking fantastic; a bootylicous babe, his sister also a heavenly sight in her figure hugging dress.



That was when Trill arrived.



Some girls have that knack. The one that turns the boys knees weak. Rick saw many men admiring her great figure as she sauntered up to him. Trill was Beth’s older sister and so different from her it was hard to imagine them as siblings. Beth was so sweet and straight laced; Rick had bluffed his way out of many conversations about how hot she was in bed. That was because even after six months of dating he didn’t know. Trill on the other hand could provide an impressive list of satisfied boyfriends.



Tall with legs to die for Trill gave him a smug smile as she approached. Beth gripped his hand as her red head sister approached. She knew only too well her penchant for boyfriend stealing. Trill cocked her head to one side seeing the possessive gesture her eyes lighting up in delight.



“Oh come on Beth,” she said hands on hips in a look at me stance; “as if I would?”



She them waved her hand dismissively. “Rick’s really not my type, don’t you worry.” And in that quick glib remark made both her sister and her boyfriend feel diminished in some way. Rick gave a snort half in anger half feeling insulted and as he turned away caught Danny eyeing the woman’s long heeled legs.



“Hey duffious,” he said nudging his friend hard in the shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be keeping your eyes on my sister?”



Danny looked sheepishly away but Rick couldn’t blame him. He knew how difficult it was not to be interested in the teen bitch. It was even harder when you went out with her sister.



That’s when the night had started to turn sour. Trill had slapped a boy, no wait Danny had, shit it was hard to remember. They all been thrown out and it had been a struggle to get six in his car; Scooter pressed up against Trills body Danny like a mountain guarding Sadie who in turn was pressed against the far door. It was no surprise that cop car had stopped them. Then Rick remembered was it a cop car, he hadn’t been sure? It had flashing lights but it was more of a van.



Trill’s high pitch wail was like a siren stirring his body. He felt the need to kneel up his vision firming up. His left hand was above his head and he realised it was tied to something. His other wrist felt strange his shoulders tingling in the air. A moment later he realised he was naked.



The voices overwhelmed him, his friends all talking, moaning, and shouting. He took a depth breath his head finally clearing. He recalled that shadowy figure at his driver window, the canister of acrid gas. As he looked around he felt like pinching himself, his stomach turning as he realised fate had conjured something evil into his world that night.



They were all imprisoned in a windowless concrete room.



High above long strip lights glared down a large seamless steel shutter door closed, the walls a mixture of white tiles and riveted aluminium panels. Rick could see two cctv cameras high in opposite corners, the lenses rotating and extending as someone unseen manipulated them. On the far wall from Rick were large scrawled letters.



Everyone must play



Everyone must come.



He took the scene in and in a very short time he understood. How long would it take you to understand you were in the grip of a mad man?



***************************



At the far side of the rectangular room on the left wall was a 12 foot wide Perspex box. The material like you might find in a squash court. The box had a multiple bolted door fastened by padlocks. Inside the box Scooter was able to stand uncomfortable with his stark naked skinny body. On the floor was Rick’s sister; Sadie. The lithe blonde girl was bound with manacles, arms behind her back ankles tied together her mouth forced into a continuous yawn; a leather ball gag tied around her head. Each bondage restraint was held by a 6 digit barrel padlock.



Her eyes were wild in panic and embarrassment, her body so elegant and slim, totally naked apart from leather restraints; curled on the floor. Scooter looked wide eyed around his Perspex cell an embarrassed, “oh my,” coming from his lips as he noticed a collection of sadomasochistic paddles and ribbed dildos hanging by hooks behind him.



Opposite these two on the right wall was Danny. The big bear was forced to squat his arms behind his back attached to the wall his bare feet were in manacles and he was held in position by a neck brace. He was bellowing in protest his jaw able to move but Rick could tell that metal wings held his head rigid his face pointing straight back towards the Perspex box where Scooter and his bound babe lay captive and trussed. Danny naked cock and balls were pressed onto the end of a big Perspex tube fastened around his groin so he couldn’t wriggle it free. The tube end finished with a protruding cable leading to the wall.



Between Ric and his friend the central part of the room had a strange half cylinder on the floor. About 6 foot long it was like a sawn in two tree trunk, a single hole cut along its length. Beth was kneeling near by her hands behind her back a chain around her ankle allowing her some movement around the long tube; but not enough to reach the far group or come to aid him. She stared at her boyfriend her chest rising and falling; her fabulous big breasted hourglass shape like an upright bottle as she knelt erect. Rick was on the near wall his hand above his head chained to a ceiling hook and Beth looked horrified back at him and beyond to her wailing sister.



To his side in arms reach was Trill. The stunning girl was like everyone else naked her fantastic waist and legs straining as she lay on an inclined metal table. Her big kissable lips were drawn back as she held a continuous open mouth expression of horror and discomfort. Her hands were tied tightly under the cast iron seat back her ass slightly hanging over the lower end of the table.



Trilly’s thighs were parted a little as her leg were out at slight v angles to each other, her ankles attached to fat steel stirrups, looking like roof beams. The beams seemed to be attached by cogs and rods under the table to some sort of machine.



“Get me off this fucking thing.” Trilly squealed



But Ric could do nothing. He just looked at the naked stunner noting a strange circular hoop of metal over her shaven pussy held tightly in place by leather straps



He looked at his free hand then at Trill in confusion. Although he could reach her waist his hand was bandaged tightly by tape and rubber into a black pointed stump. He couldn’t move a finger his digits now covered by this bizarre bandage. Down his fore arm he had a similar hooped steel bracelet bound to his skin his wrist passing through the middle. It was the same as Trill’s pussy hoop with 3 copper points around the rim with a wire leading off under the table. He could see the girls hoop also had the 3 copper points and a wire too.



Trill screamed again in frustration again Rick telling her to calm. His mind was trying to understand what the hell was going on. He could see his naked girlfriend close but unable to help. He looked down at his body. His balls and deflated cock were a deep royal blue, painted for some unknown reason. And all around then tying him, Trill and the rest into bizarre positions were 6 digit barrel padlocks. There must have been dozens in the room.



“Oh Jesus,” Beth moaned,” What the hell’s happening?”



Danny was less reserved at his predicament and the view of his girlfriend laying all bound up next to a naked nerd was unbearable.



“I’ll fucking kill the bastard who’s responsible,” he yelled. “Get this fucking thing off me now!” And staring back at the Perspex box (he had no choice his head fixed), he snarled.” Keep your fucking hands of my girl!”



Scooter jumped back his attempts at unfastening Sadie’s binds met with a menacing rebuke.



Scooter shook his head horrified, “I’m just trying to help her.”



Danny snarled back,” no you aren’t you fuck not unless you know the combinations to the locks! Do you?”



Scooter shook his head pathetically.



“We’ll keep the fuck off then,” Shouted Rick finishing Danny’s line of argument also appalled that the fucking geek was pawning the naked Sadie.



“Never mind her! “Screamed Trill her big long lashed eyes rolling in disbelief,” what the fuck about me?”



Rick shrugged his shoulders embarrassed but also perversely delighted with the view. His girlfriend’s hot sister spread eagle and table bound in front of him. Beth saw his eyes linger and she gave a frustrated muffled scream at her letching boyfriend.



“Rick!”



He snapped back into concentration looking around the room.” Look up behind the Perspex in the wall, it’s a TV!”



“Oh great,” Trill moaned closing her eyes in growing embarrassment, “let’s watch the fucking game then!”



That moment the TV came alive a black screen with a few lines of words on it. The group stared at the flickering image the words remaining there allowing Beth to read them slowly aloud.



“The stirrups will bend back all the way, ten minutes, hurry before she splits, make the connection.”



Then the screen went dead.



The group were silent for a moment then they jumped in surprise as a mechanical clang echoed in the room.



The machine attached to Trills bed had come alive. The stirrups were on a huge ratchet wheel the massive metal beams drawn together in tension by some missing heavy machinery. Now as the cogs turned eventually they aligned creating a missing tooth and at this point the tensioned steel bars suddenly jerked with great power slightly wider apart.



Clank!



Trill screamed her ankle and thighs a few inches more opened now. “Oh my God! My ankles! It’s spreading my legs!”



As they all shouted Rick looked under the table the big cogs rotating the stirrups suddenly springing another inch or so wider, Trill giving another yelp of horror



“Oh shit the girders look like they will bend almost all the way back,” he cried.



“Jesus its going to keep opening,” Scooter coughed looking from inside his Perspex cell. “Oh fuck Trill, Rick it’s going to snap her in two!”



“Shut the fuck up,” Rick screamed seeing a bin under the table. He used his leg to pull it closer. It was full of axle grease?



Clank! The stirrups opened another few inches Trill sliding a little down the table her legs needing to bend slightly her groin now rising the metal hoop thrusting up; her bare slit like a cats eye staring from inside a metal eyelid.



“It said make the connection.” Beth spoke out loud Rick looking at the metal hoop around his wrist. It had copper connections with a wire leading away.



Rick pushed his bandaged hand towards Trill’s sweaty flat tummy the metal clanking against its girl strapped counterpart. But as much as he tried the hoop would not touch at the 3 points at the same time.



“It’s just too far up my wrist I can’t press them on at the same time.” Then he looked at the greased bucket then back at his cone shaped bandaged wrist



“Oh shit I know want he wants me to do.”



Click! The two girders sprang another inch or so wider Trill groin rising as much as the pitch of her voice.



“Oh shit! Please do something; hurry.”



Rick looked at Beth the beautiful woman standing wide eyes her mouth open not understanding why her boyfriend was looking so torn.



“Oh please Rick help her,” she begged. Scooter suddenly realised what needed to be done.



“Jesus Rick you need to put your hand up inside her. Inside her pussy then the rings will connect.”



Trills scream was half in horror at the suggestion half in terror at yet another inch of opening stirrup



“No Rick that’s not,” Beth floundered on her words seeing her sister’s face as the stirrups widened; her knees straining inwards her back arching thrusting her domes skyward.



“No you dirty fuck!” Trill gasped looking down over her fine turned body to the man between her legs. She shook her head mouth open wide but speechless as Rick dipped his hand in the axle grease and then wiped his stump along her slit.



“Jez Trilli I’ve got no choice,” he explained Trill still shaking her red head but also groaning as her legs clicked open a little wider.



Danny was hollering but he couldn’t see his head locked in position, Beth, the bound Sadie and Scooter however could and all watched in disbelief.



“Oh fuck no Rick,” Beth moaned as his stump pressed on Trilly’s sex.



The teen bitch gave a groan gnashing her teeth thrashing her body, her opinion the same as her sisters.



“No ugggggg no you fuckkkkkk!”



Her leg were now impressively splayed her knees bending a little pulling her butt down the table as the girders continued on their 360 degree journey apart.



Trill felt his stump pushing her tight young hole and as her thighs ached she realised it was her only chance.



“Push Rick uggggggg push harder eeeieeeeeeeee!”



Rick was pushing, pressing his stump the grease foaming around her shaven hole the skin been forced back. His biceps bulged as she screamed but he couldn’t stop, no time to waste. He pushed with all his might.



“Eieeeeeeeeee!” Trill gave an amazed scream, Beth with her hands over her mouth, Scooter and Rick now hardening.



“You fucking bastard,” Trill groaned the fist sliding into her hot tunnel her body feeling like it was swallowing a fence post, “you’re fucking loving this uggggg!” And she glared down at his royal blue erection.



Red faced Rick twisted his wrist pushing deeper Trill looking at him in the eyes her teeth gritted her legs widening still. The hoops were now very close and she thrust forward with her groin giving a sensation filled grunt. The hoops touched; the copper nodes fashioned in such a way that they interlocked and with 3 simultaneous clicks the connection were made and the machine suddenly came to a halt.



“Oh shit oh shit!” Trill groaned her legs an impressive v shape her groin slightly off the table Ricks stump swallowed deep underneath her flat tummy. She gave a lip biting moan her eyes rolling realising the situation she was in.



**********



Rick took a deep breath then tried to slowly pull out of the babe. She gritted her teeth but as soon as a single electrode unclipped the engines began to whine again, Trill screaming in panic and before it could click another notch on the wheel he pushed hard back in the node relocking. He would have to leave it there for the time being.



Rick was panted in relief, his face turning to his girlfriend.



Beth was also panting her breathing audible now the machine had been stopped. Danny was still complaining no one was telling him what was happening. Beth certainly didn’t want to say her boyfriend was standing with his fist all the way inside her own sister. The girl spread like a gymnast minutes from snapping in two.



“Oh Rick you…” Trill voice trailed offunsure if she should be pleased or not. He’d just saved her life. Beth shuddered hearing the pleasurable undertone to her sisters lament and gave a frustrated screech of impotence



“Aggggggg why, why us?”



Rick then heard a new noise. “Wait listen the table stirrups have stopped but what that hissing sound?”



They looked toward were Danny was knelt. No one had noticed a Perspex box up at the side of his clamped head. It had been full of a grey grain which was now emptying to the floor



“It’s sand, pouring out!”



The box slowly emptied the sand in a pile on the floor and as it did they saw the shape of a silver revolver come into view within the box. It was fastened inside, the barrel pointing inches from Danny’s clamped skull.



“What is it what do you see?” The big bear wanted answers realising something was happening to him now.



The sand drained to the final granules and they could see a big hand clock ticking down. It was a special dial maybe only counting fifteen minutes on the full face. The clock and trigger seemed connected in some way. Scooter babbled in a nervous voice.



“Oh shit Danny it’s a gun shit its going to go off when the timer finishes.”



“When.?” He shouted.



“I don’t, know maybe fifteen minutes.”



Danny began to scream and thrash Scooter and Beth shouting over his rants. “Danny! Danny! What’s the writing say on that tube?”



Danny looked to his cock encasing tube. At the tip of the tube inside there was a red stop button. On the outside was a label.



It said, press to stop.



“I need to press this button,” he gasped looking down the 6 inch tube. “Oh fuck!” He wriggled about trying to knock the tube. The end had a cable leading away tacked to the floor it bent around towards the box.



“Oh fuck I need to get hard,” he gasped realising his cock when erect would nudge this stop button. But at present he was limp even Trill sensation filled groans had not been enough and he couldn’t even see the curvaceous body of Beth. He could only see his bound and trussed girlfriend staring back in panic and the awful skinny Scooter his cock semi erect after watching Rick fist the teen queen.

“Oh no,” he said again knowing the gun was counting down, “you fucking bastards.”



He knew what would do it. Shit he had no choice.



“Fucking do her man!” Danny cried looking at his girl and Scooter. Sadie shook her head in horror, Beth also shocked. Rick looked to the ceiling realising that Scooter would have to fuck his sister. Then was distracted by the movement of Trill as her eyes flashed in sensation, his hand so warm inside her



Sadie wriggled as she was pulled onto her knees bent double; Scooter mumbling unsure what to do.



“Do it man. Fuck! I need to see. I need to get hard.”



Scooter stroked Sadie’s back unsure and nervous the girl wriggling and bleating through her gag. But Danny didn’t want that.



“No for fucks sake! Slap her! Spank her fucking ass.”



Scooter mouth opened in surprise, Beth giving an indignant yelp of horror. Rick gave a cry, “what the fuck!”



Slap!



Scooter hand connected with Sadie’s butt the girl bucking a little. Danny frowned not satisfied. “No you fuck harder. Harder, use the paddle!”



Scooter grabbed the thing from the wall hammering down on Sadie’s bucking ass. Beth, and Rick hollering to stop as the fleshy slaps resonated in the room.



“You fucking little shit leave my sister alone.” Rick spat his words as his sister grunted in her gag, rocking to and thro on her knees as she received her backside punishment. But Danny had a different opinion, he was encouraging the geek; egging him on groaning as he saw Sadie’s eyes rolling with the hard sensation.



“The dildo man,” The big teen gasped his cock hardening growing up the tube. “The big ribbed black one; ram it in! Fuck her hard with it!”



Scooter looked back as if to be reassured; Sadie shaking her head in protest.



Scooter coughed his words aware of Ricks protests bitter and vengeful from across the room. “Danny I don’t think I…”



“Fucking do it! Plug the little bitch.” Danny screamed almost feeling the trigger about to pull.



Scooter shook with fright grabbing the awful ribbed rubber baton shaped device from the wall hook.



The big black dildo was rammed up the young girl snatch her eyes crossing her body jerking back and forth on her knees as the bondage babe was hammered in her hole. Danny was grunting in satisfaction Sadie’s groans audible through her gag, her body rocking like a shivering dog.



“Come on come on you bitch you know your place ugggh! That it all the way in; yeah baby. Fucking take it like you always do!”



Beth’s hands were over her face she sensed this was not the first time Danny had talked to Sadie like that.



“You fucking shit Danny,” Rick shouted seeing his sister pounded by the massive ribbed cock hearing Danny aroused and eager to see the abuse. “Is that what you fucking do man, slap my sister you fuck?”



Danny was desperate his cock still couldn’t reach and the timer it must nearly be up.



Scooters cock was fully hard now his body covered in sweat the effort at spanking and ramming more exhausting then he imagined. His bound beauty was glistening in sweat her cute face flushed her eyes wild as she felt the dildo blur in and out of her moistening hole.



“Uhhh slap her more, spank her ass hurry hurry.”



Scooter himself was getting into it. He pulled the black monster from her pussy and thundered down with his palm lifting the slim waist girl up onto her haunches her ass an inviting target for his spanking. The room echoed from flesh on flesh a muffled yelp from Sadie each hit, Beth saying no over and over Rick swearing on his life what he would do to Danny when he was out.



Danny was covered in sweat himself his cock now expanding to the sides of the tube the red plunger tip was near but he still couldn’t thrust high enough.



“Come on come on!” He gasped, get up her you skinny fuck. Ride her! Fuck her, now!”



Scooter pulled his body behind the girl pressing his cock between her ass cheeks as she writhed in protest.



“Pull her around I need to see it,” Danny gasped; Sadie struggling as Scooter dragged her the other way and in open view of Danny slid his cock to the hilt up into the pony tailed blonde’s pussy.



Rick was thrashing in frustration Trill bouncing on the metal bed still held tightly. The room was full of gasps, butt slapping pelvis movements and disbelieving voices.



Scooter was groaning in delight his hands on Sadie’s shoulder his cock all the way in the slim beauty. He gripped her tiny waist; she was like a doll. But this doll was gagged and bound her muffled gasps and screams sending him to climax



Danny knew he was so near any second and the fucking greasy geek would shoot up inside his cute ass spank girlfriend.



Scooter was slapping her ass now like a ye-ha cowboy Danny demanding he “whoop her good.” Scooter grunts had turned to full blow shouts of delight as he was caught up in the sexual frenzy.



“That it yeah, yeah, take it, take it oh Sadie. Oh yes you fucking hot bitch ugkkkkkkkkkkkkk I coming! I’m coming up you!”



He went stiff the girls face one of frozen shock as she felt him unload.



“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh oh I’m filling you yeahhhhhh!”



Danny was fully hard and as he heard Scooter rant over and over about how full Sadie was with his come the big man gave a massive thrust his bulbous rampant cock tip reaching the stop button and the gun clock instantly froze.



*************************



Sadie fell onto her side panting through her gag in total disbelief her body spanked and fucked in full view of her boyfriend and brother. Scooter fell back his face red his cock deflating come hanging in strands between his cock head and Sadie’s rear. Rick was cursing him Beth shaking her head in disgust seeing her neighbours character laid bare. Trill was opened mouth a little surprised by Scooter’s demented dog technique.



Danny was sobbing his cock stiff inside the tube the button pressed but unable to reach climax. Beth gripped her head in frustration. “Danny you piece of shit!” She hissed. The big man didn’t reply his sexual preferences now quite evident to all.



Suddenly the room was plunged into darkness. Everyone screamed then their eyes began to play tricks. They could see a shape. It was Beth. The girl was a glowing orange. Not all of her just parts, her tits, ass, the spine of her back, hands and her eye sockets were glowing.



“Jesus Beth you got fluorescent paint on.” Beth lips were a neon oval as she took a depth breath, then pointed.



“Look on the wall.” The TV was black but for a few words and some numbers



-The room must stay dark for ten minutes or you will never leave-



“What the hell does he mean? It is dark.”



On the wall the black screen was counting down in small yellow numbers 9.59, 9.58, 9.57…



As if to answer the obvious question there was a clunk and a fountain of white light shone from the hole in the silver truck shaped object near Beth. It appeared as a shaft of brilliant light reaching up like a column to the ceiling. There was a whirring noise and machinery going through the motions as steadily the light widened then gave a amazing starburst effect as a humming glass vibrator rose up out of the cylindrical base.



The thing was shuddering intensely the curved ridged shaft a cork screw effect’ the thing ten tall glowing inches. The centre had some type of powerful optic fibre and the group looked in awe as it rose like Excalibur from the lake; finally clicking into place sparkling in the room.



Rick looked at the TV screen the timer had reset to 10 minutes and was holding. Somewhere in the room maybe in many places sensors reacted to the light holding the clock at 10 minutes as rigidly as the log tube held the buzzing cock.



Beth looked appalled,” oh shit its… It’s…



“It’s big,” Murmured the impaled Trilly. “It’s like a fucking light sabre.” Scooter added.



Beth looked at the timer then at the vibro cock. “Maybe if…” She bent down gripping her hands around the buzzing length. It was like holding onto a jack hammer at full tilt her fingers tingling uncomfortably. The light spewed from between her digits so she gripped harder the light fading, but it didn’t make much difference the base and tip still glowed brilliantly.



The group shouted instructions Beth getting more and more desperate. She tried to pin it between her thighs but no matter which way she attempted or what part of her body she used not even the briefest moment of full darkness could be achieved.



Beth was grunting trying to wrestle with the humming rod until eventually she fell back in despair. “



I can’t cover it,” she moaned looking into the darkness at Rick then back at the timer.



She took a deep breath. “Rick,” she sobbed, “the things all slimy and greased. I know what it wants me to do.”



“It?” Rick said realising what she was suggesting.



“It! Him! Whatever is doing this to us!” She screamed frustrated that it seemed to matter which.



Slowly, tentatively Beth straddled the vibrator, everyone who could watching in silence.



“OH, ohhhhh uggggggg!” She gave a series of uncomfortable, impaling grunts as the blonde beauty slid onto the tip; the glass cock feeling cold but alive with light and power.



“Oooooooooooooo!”



They watched as her hips slid lower the shaft now more stunted, shrinking slowly, even the humming becoming duller.



“Ohhhhhhhhhhh shittt.”



Her inexperienced pussy sucked the cock in the shaft now a glowing 3 inches the other seven inside her dark body.



“Oh God it’s ugggg tooo.” The gang encouraged her to try harder, “push Beth push!”



She gave an animal roar as she forced down to a final brilliant inch of ringed light.



She pushed her hands down trying to cover the remaining parts and suddenly the room was plunged back into black



They could hear her moan the timer instantly beginning to descend.



Rick watched as the fluorescent paint came alive again and he could see his babe rocking on the fuck log glowing like some sexual demon; neon lips parting her big tits like beacons emitting the soft pink glow.



Her teeth where chattering the vibrator like a twisted glass vase battering her insides the light contained by her expanded and deeply explored pussy shaft.



Scooter managed to take his eyes of the girl long enough to see the timer had reached 9.



“Shit Beth you have to keep going any light and it will reset.” He coached.



Beth seemed to nod but it was hard to tell the girls eyes close her hands now on the trunk no need to help cover the light; she had swallowed the whole ten humming inches inside her.



Then Danny shouted. He couldn’t see the floorshow but he could see large letters appearing above Scooter and Sadie’s Perspex box. It was more fluorescent paint work.



The letters said – Under the blue paint is the lock code-



“What paint,” Danny shouted. “What the fuck, there’s no blue paint.”



Rick looked down into nothingness the faint shape of his hardening cock below him. The erect blue painted cock.



“Yes there is,” he said solemnly,”yes there fucking well is.” And with that Beth gave a cute whimper her back arching neon tits thrusting; and Ricks cock stiffened further.



It was down to five minutes when Beth began to groan louder and unashamedly. The thing had been a constant powerful vibration but now she didn’t care about hiding her embarrassment. The sensation was too much and she grunted and wailed like an alley cat.



“Oh fuck ugggggggg its fucking ugggggggggggg!”



She didn’t have the words to describe her feelings. Her neck was straining like a tensed tiger the shouts from the others in her ears. She had to ride it and keep riding it. If she pulled off it would only mean another attempt later. They could starve to death waiting for her to finish ten minutes on this beast!



“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!”



She was rocking in total frenzy now all watching in amazement as the prim girl gyrated and bucked. Beth was keeping her pussy locked down on the cock her clit on fire her inside feeling like a drilling bit digging to the core of the earth



Two minutes left.



“Oh shiiiiiitttt it’s ugggggg!” She was nearing climax her body writhing fabulous tits swinging her painted ass bouncing. With only parts of her body painted she looked like a puppet Halloween skeleton dancing in the night. Their captor had concentrated on her feminine assets, ass, tits, wriggling spine, high check boned pouting face. With her eye lids shut her sockets glowed like big alien eyes.



“Oh fuck oh no! No!” She realised she was coming. She couldn’t hold any longer she have to ride the last minute in hypersensitive climax.



Her clit exploded her nails biting at the metal trunk her ass hammering down as she grunted like a pig over and over until she screamed in ecstasy and burning tickling sensation.



But as the after shock set her clit on fire she needed to remain in place. The room echoed to screams of discomfort her body electric her head swimming bedraggled blonde mane whipping like a demented woman. She was nearly out cold, “oh God if she fell off now oh oh ohhhhhhhhhh!”



Click! As suddenly as they had faded the lights sprang back into life Beth glistening with sweat rolled from the rigid glass pole the light now extinguished, the machine silent, its job done.



*******************************



“Oh Beth,” Rick choked his words his cock as hard as nails and looking across the room he could see Scooter and Danny were also showing their appreciating of his girlfriends performance. Scooter stiffy was covered by his hands as he saw Rick eyes narrow, Danny had being listening to the moans his rock cock tapping uselessly against the press to stop plunger.



Rick spat venom at his ex friend “Fancy spanking the fuck out of my girlfriend too? You bastard!”



He then looked to Trill with her legs wide apart the machine halted but not finished with its evil expansion. His wrist was numb from the bandage and the deep pussy fisting he had been forced to do. His cock was like a pole but he knew the grease pussy plugged stump would never be able to scrape the paint from his cock. Well definitely not before he saw the long legged Trill split in two on the operating table.



Her legs were fastened by barrel locks the same as his hand. He would need to read the code unfasten his useable hand then free Trill. All this before the stirrups did their job.



“Oh no don’t please,”Trill shouted seeing him look at his cock then her plugged slit.” There not enough time!”



He began to twists his hand Trill screaming for him to stop, desperate for the leg splitter not to start working again.



“I need to rub the paint off” Rick said in a rasping voice his hand pulling from the stunning babes pussy the mechanical device springing back into life, intent on opening a whole 360 degrees. “You need to help me.”



He used his stump to angle his rampant cock then he thrust into the hot dripping pussy. Trill gave a disgusted grunt and then another high pitched yelp as the stirrups sprang another few inches wider. Her mound rose up to meet his pelvis Rick still chained with his hand above his head his hips thrusting back and forth trying to rub the blue paint form his aching shaft



“Oh Rick, Rick, Rickkkkkk!”



Beth moaned over and over not in ecstasy but horror. She stood hands on her head watching him bang into her sister. Trill was open mouthed gasping at each fiery thrust her leg splitting predicament apparently forgotten for a few moments.



Then the stirrups sprang again and she screamed.



“Jesusss Rick hurry!”



Beth saw her sister was now at a full 180 split; something she not performed for years since she was head cheerleader. But even her athletic body couldn’t part further than this. Beth shrieked herself realising what see was about to see.



“OH my God hurry she’s going to die!”



Rick was hurrying his breath laboured his balance faltering. His cock ached with passion her slippery hole making it difficult to rub. But the paint was coming away he knew he still had a minutes before the next and final split but his balls were tightening.



As he hammered in he realised he was about to come. A limp cock might not show the numbers in time.



“Oh shit oh no fuck ukkkkkkkkkk!” His cock shot his desperate load up the young bitch adding to the lubrication. Trill gasped feeling herself flooded then gritted her teeth shaking her head as she sensed the final tooth would miss and the stirrups would spring all the way back.



“Oh shit, shit!”



He made a few final thrusts pulling his cock out praying he could see the numbers, already the blood was draining from his rod and he knew he only had seconds



564421



He could see it, he was sure. He shouted the words out loud as his chained hand fingers gripped the barrel lock. Everyone was shouting and screaming but Rick shut them out turning the barrels until…



Click!



Free he instantly turned to Trill; Beth was already there her own barrel lock now unfastened.



Each fiddled with an ankle as the device began to clatter and….



Snap! Snap!



The stirrups jumped the final notch both heavy girders springing all the way back to the head of the table exerting enormous pulling forced. But Trill’s legs remained in place both her ankles now free of the horrid manacles.



Rick collapsed to his knees Beth helping her sister up the girl now able to begin removing the fuck ring. Rick picked at his bandaged hand the grease and juices still present. Scooter was unfastening Sadie using the same barrel code the girl beginning to curse and yelp once her mouth gag was free pushing him away in revulsion.



“Get me out of the fucking box!” She screamed as Beth and Trill opened the Perspex cages door. Danny had to wait until they unclipped his head and just in time he was able to pull his neck away and move before Rick managed to release his fist and rained punches down on him.



“You fucking shit!” He screamed Danny rolling on the floor trying to protect himself from the barrage.



The group pulled them apart all now oblivious to their naked bodies.



Beth hollered above everyone.



“Pull yourself together we’ve done it.”



Rick looked back fire in his eyes, “done what? We’re no further out of this fucking place than we started.” Beth was lost for words it was an awful truth. She looked up at the cctv high in the corner and grew angry.



“We’ve done it you sick fuck we played your game and won, now let us out.”



A few seconds later the TV screen flickered and she saw the answer.



Only 3 came



You have to play again



The room began to fill with acrid gas the party floundering around in desperation choking and wailing. The mist grew thick the gas overwhelming them Beth just standing looking like a fantastic statue as the gas swirl around her hips. She was frozen in disbelief refusing to accept the answer. Suddenly the room was a white out and then there was silence.



*****************************



Rick awoke slowly his mind once again confused, had he been dreaming? For a few thankful minutes his world was a soft swirling half consciousness time to feel safe and reassured. Only when the moaning and crying filtered through to his ears did the cold sharp reality kick in.



He was in the concrete cell.



Rick was on his back his legs strapped to the massive girder stirrups. His neck was locked in place and as he looked down over his chest his flaccid cock was a dark blue again. Standing looking at him her arm chained above her head was Sadie. Her other hand was bandaged and she stood legs slightly apart uncomfortable with the harness and big ribbed dildo belted between her groin.



He looked away from the obscene sight across the room.



Scooter was now clamped in the revolver stocks his cock inside the tube. Beth now rolled around in the Perspex box bondage gag and shackles in place her sister standing hands on mouth an array of funnels, pipes, bladders and pump ball devices hanging from the wall around her.

Gemma hugged her arms around her knees and gazed out of the tall, deep window across the broad valley to the sun sinking beyond the mountains. A beautiful, tranquil scene that should have calmed her inner tension. Her wool-clad toes were tucked in close on the soft cushion of the window seat – it was cold up here in the mountains with the window open, but less oppressive having the gentle breeze curling around her, shielding her from the cloying opulence of the suite.



After annoying her for three days, her guards had finally stopped coming in to stare disapprovingly every time she touched the window catch. What did they think she was going to do, jump? she thought broodingly. Then shivered lightly. The view was breathtaking in more than one way; the first time she had looked down, her stomach had lurched sickeningly and head had begun to swim, and that had been with the window closed. On that first day, when she had still been overawed, amazed at being transported into a palatial, elegant suite in a Bond-villain mountain-crag fortress.



Three days later, her main feeling was irritated boredom. The sleek madam – Louise – had even taken her phone from her that first night. “For security,” Madam had explained smoothly as she deftly extracted it with a sweet, false smile – and without permission – from Gemma’s shoulder bag, before waving her involuntary, unwanted guest into the suite and leaving with a brief, “Ask the men for anything you need,” tossed dismissively over one silk-clad shoulder.



That was the last Gemma had seen of her, thankfully. The silence in the back of the car on the way down had been glacial, Madam staring out into the night, and Gemma wondering what on earth had happened to her normal life, where Mac was, and what was nigglingly weird about the car they were riding in – although the vehicle suited Madam. Plush, silent and sneeringly superior. The cubs had since filled her in – apparently Madam -Gemma always drawled the title sarcastically inside her own head – hadn’t appreciated Gemma introducing her to the novel experience of having a mere girl – a human – argue with her. In front of four alphas, Dr. Maynard and half the senior pack members, no less. And then Marsh himself had listened to what the girl said! The cubs couldn’t hide their glee. And Madam hadn’t even attempted to hide her acute, violent dislike.



Gemma wrinkled her short nose.



Mutual.



The men weren’t much better. The guards. Most of the time they just rooted themselves in the knee-deep carpet in the corridor outside the door to the suite, and ignored her varied polite and less polite requests to let her out to explore. She had sensed their pleasure at the futility of her physical, furious attempts to get out – it had been like trying to squeeze between two warm, immovable rocks, or a rock and the door jam, and their warmth had made her hairs stand on end and an uneasy churning sensation pool in her stomach, making her back off abruptly.



They did fetch on demand, as Madam had stated – that’s what the guards called her, “Madam Louise,” or, “Madam Marsh,” and Gemma had spent a bad-tempered, bored period yesterday afternoon thinking up the most bizarre and pointless fetch-errands she could inflict on them. A Frisbee. Strawberries and champagne. Ten orchids. A zebra. Her favourite DVDs. Fish and chips. Chocolate and ice cream. A piano. A Picasso. Ostrich steak (she’d never had it – Gemma thought she may as well make use of this). Her old teddy polar bear from home. A BlackBerry. One of them silently stalked off after each request, or merely stated after a brief pause, “I’m afraid Madam would prefer you not to risk your security with that, Dr. Smith.”



She got the piano though, to her amazement.



She hadn’t really thought she’d get a BlackBerry. But when the dark haired one had returned with her fluffy old toy, BigWhite, she’d dried up and retreated, unnerved, to her favourite seat. This one, here in the window. How the hell had they gotten into her flat?



She didn’t want to know.



“Anything more, Dr. Smith?” the craggy one had drawled sarcastically after her as she’d retreated.



Gemma wrinkled her nose again. No way were those surly hulks allowed to call her ‘Gemma’. Especially not when she needed anything to keep them at a distance. To keep her cool. Her courage. Her distain. Every day. Every morning.



Every morning they checked her neck.



It was unnerving, unsettling, the worst part of the day. They came in a pair each time – for protection against her contaminating human presence, it felt like, in the increasingly tense unease. They requested gruffly that she stand in the middle of the living room, loosen and fold down her collar, and let them, in turn, scent the fading mottling. Their breath against the tender spot made her skin writhe and tension clench in her stomach. She could feel the tautness of dislike oozing off them also, the shudder of their skin as they sniffed, the wrinkle of their noses, and the hardness in their eyes as they had to bring themselves to approach. And they shimmered with increasing antipathy and disappointment each day as the colour slowly faded – she could tell that they wanted her to get worse, wanted Mac tried and convicted.



Dogs.



She hated them for that. Her skin was so tight, tense even at the thought of the impending inspection tomorrow – made worse after another long, lurid night of Mac visiting her dreams and whispering to her skin what he’d like to do to her in that damned massive four poster in the luxurious bedroom, rolling her under him, pressing her down into the soft mattress. She knew they could smell it on her – the heat from the dreams. Eugh.



Damn him. Damn she missed his touch. Missed it more every day.



She used the opportunity, their enforced interaction, to question the guards – it was also a useful distraction from the revolting, real reason they were there. But they never said any more than they absolutely had to, never answered her questions about Mac or the trial, infuriatingly, which was why she’d ended up playing that stupid fetch game with them like the dogs they were. They liked keeping her in the dark. Madam liked it.



Luckily, Mac didn’t.



Here it came.



Silently, twirling on the breeze, lowered on the spindly, almost invisible fishing line, today’s offering spun gently into sight. She grasped the line, tugged lightly, and it stopped. Swiftly, sparkling with pleasure, Gemma unclipped it from the karabiner on the end of the line, hooked in place her own reply, and then tugged twice, gently. She breathed more easily as she watched the little packet disappear silently back up the cliff face. The guards came in at any moment and she really did not want to get the kids into trouble. They were so proud of themselves for working this out. Even if they couldn’t get her a replacement mobile phone, which would’ve been a damn sight easier. Apparently wolves didn’t use cell phones much, and they had no chance to buy one, especially without any of the Marsh wolves noticing.



A small smile was playing around her mouth. Megan, the youngest of the trio, had explained in her first note. Mac knew why Madam Marsh had taken Gemma’s phone, but he’d wanted to check that she was OK himself, not rely on the reports, so he’d set up this relay with the MacKeld trainees at Marshmont.



There were three of them, up there in the dusk, perched on the wall of the roof terrace, the two boys hanging onto the legs and waistband of Megan so that she could lean out far enough to get the fishing line lowered past the rocky outcrop above this window.



They loved doing this, the excitement was evident in their scrawled messages – and the pride, the pride that the Alpha had given them this assignment, trusted them to work out how to get a message to Gemma. Which they had. He’d been right.



Today’s package held four notes. The one dictated from Mac she saved until last. James, the eldest of them, had drawn her a meticulous, detailed map of the fourth floor – the floor below – to go with the one sent yesterday of this floor, with the position of her suite. She’d explained in her first note how frustrating she found it, seeing only these four rooms when she’d been dazzled by the bewitching array of lights shimmering down from above as the car purred its way up the valley on the night of her arrival. So he’d decided to map the place for her.



Kyle drew people, mainly pictures of her guards, there was one today of the two hulks who’d been outside her door at midday – he didn’t have great talent, but she could tell who they were, and appreciated the short notes underneath.”Lars – he’s a bit irritable, but not bad. Teaches us restraint.” “Mike – he works in the North quad usually, but I’ve never seen him come in empty handed, he can run like the wind.” Kyle’s notes left a lot of questions, but apparently all of her guards to date – they rotated three pairs during the day, and someone new had been substituted in yesterday – all were high-ranking and awesome and seemed to be snappy about being dragged in to guard a human.



Megan was the chatty one, explaining all about them, their classes, extra training, the Marshmont and how hard it was to get into the academy here. She reminded Gemma of her cousin Tina’s daughter, and her notes had her smile with their joyous enthusiasm for life.



Then there was Mac’s.



“Picchu, please try not to take out your irritation on the guards by making highly skilled warriors run after candy, flowers and teddy bears. It might come back to bite you someday. Although your demanding errands are already legendary and there was some joking around the council that I’ve obviously gotten you pregnant.



Before you panic, that’s impossible.



I’ve been acquitted of endangering you, as the evidence clearly shows that you are healing. The Argen charge is still open but I’ve been released on condition that I leave you in Marsh custody and don’t come near you. I said some slightly disrespectful things to the council in response to that, and they got snippy and demanded I promise to stay on the Range until you’re fully healed or they’d stick me back in a cell. Wish you’d been there to shut me up – you excel at it.”




That was it. Her hit for today.



Megan had told her that as kids – cubs – they weren’t old enough to distance communicate in words easily, wolves worked more with impressions, feelings, and images sent mind to mind – “conveying”, they called it, and the concentration required to receive words was exhausting, requiring a lot more control – they wouldn’t be able to exchange words with even their parents at this distance. Only the Alpha, and it took the three of them the whole day, taking turns, to receive that many sentences even from him.



So a wolf only conveyed in words when he had feelings or images that he didn’t wish to share, that were liable to leak through. Gemma had blushed scarlet when she’d read that explanation for why the dictated notes were so short. If Mac had any of the same feelings and images in his mind as cavorted repeatedly through hers whenever she thought of him, then she was damned glad he was sticking to dry words for these kids to write down, even if it left her aching for more and gave them a bit of a headache. And it’s not as if he was that reticent! She snorted, blushing again. Pregnant. HAH. She wished she could shut him up.



Her nipples tingled and her mouth watered lightly.



The cubs had been astonished and immensely proud when Mac first spoke to them – they’d only each heard from him once before, mind-to-mind, when he congratulated them on gaining entrance to the Academy. But even then, he’d conveyed in words – their parents said that now, since the start of the third invasion, four years ago when they were only little cubs, the Alpha only ever conveyed in words. With everyone.



Megan’s notes also left a lot of questions.



Gemma stroked the short pieces of paper, over and over, as she re-read the notes and studied her new map. Then with a little sigh, she went and hid them with the others, as instructed, in the empty, rinsed shampoo bottle behind the other toiletries in the bathroom cabinet. Scent masking, it was called.



The long night stretched ahead. What wouldn’t she do to have the opportunity to shut Mac up.



Again.



And again.



Bedtime. Dammit. Her pulse was racing and she was so, so wet. Maybe a boring tome would cool her thoughts.







Later, much later, Gemma lifted her head and stared at the wall, unfocussed, mind working furiously with the book open on her lap.



Unbelievable.



Impossible.



Unthinkable.



But…




Distantly aware of the cold slowly spreading through her veins, she re-focused on the formula scrawled in the workings box at the chapter end. She’d only started flipping through the old textbook out of sheer boredom. When she’d demanded her own clothes as part of her frustrated game yesterday, the jailers had somehow retrieved the other girl, Anne’s, rucksack, together with her own coat and gloves from the lab. No doubt they had thought it was hers. If she hadn’t been skulking, unnerved, in her windowseat by the time the hulky one had dropped it in, she might have pointed out his mistake, and would never have found –



This.



It was a standard chelation chemistry textbook, she assigned it to students herself, and the scribbled workings in the boxes would not have held her interest if she hadn’t begun to notice the predominance of silver in each working. In fact, in all workings. And once she’d begun to look, she found that the formulas had little to do with the questions, although someone was developing the knowledge shared in the chapters for their own use. And that use seemed to be -



Unthinkable.



Gemma checked again, feeling the cold dread deep inside her hardening. The moon was glowing softly on the peaks opposite, lengthening the silver shadows, echoing her mood.



Mac had mentioned poly, when talking about the chemo he was taking to rid his body of the residue silver. She had brushed soft fingers over the cold, shiny, stretched skin on his stomach. And the standard polymer for silver cleansing was right here, in these formulas. And…



She was staring at the wall again, shivering as her brain raced through the implications.



Poison.



Here, unless she was very much mistaken, was the painstaking working out of a method of coating silver, sealing it away, hiding it inside another compound. It was meticulous. It was fiendish. The majority of the calculations estimated how much of the coating compound would react with any of the standard cleansing polymer added to the body to eradicate silver. And the reaction would free the additional silver hidden inside.



So. Gemma found that she was shivering lightly. Was this Argen? True Argen – the silent killer? Or something else entirely? What had Anne been doing with this knowledge?



Here was a poison which hid silver inside it. If you mixed it with a little pure silver – there were calculations as to how much was a good mixture – then any time a wolf tried to cleanse out the visible silver with the standard chemo polymer, more of the hidden silver would be released, making matters worse, not better. Poisoning himself.



There was even a rough table of results of some experimental live tests. Survival rates noted coldly. Gemma wondered briefly, bleakly, who the guinea pigs – the guinea pig wolves – had been. If they had volunteered. Yeah, like Nick’s wolf-girl Anne had volunteered for sex.



Gemma’s blood was aching in her taut skin as she lifted her head to stare again at the wall, fingers clenching and unclenching, brain settling into cold certainty.



Anne, chemistry postgrad, had been, however involuntarily, part of Nicolas’s pack.



Her heart was pounding hard inside her chest as her conviction deepened.



Mac’s stomach was taking longer to heal than it should – the wound from the silvery spear that Nick had driven through him that first night still frozen into his abdomen. She suspected that it had spread, grown larger since she had first bandaged it.



No. No. No. No. No.



Unless she was very much mistaken, Mac was poisoning himself further every time he tried to heal himself. This would be the sixth day.



How much silver did it take to kill a wolf?



How much time?



Cold, cold clenched muscles ached throughout her body. A shiver of fear, and a wrenching-tight knot in her stomach. Memory of warm green eyes, the gentle touch of his lips brushing hers. Gemma flinched away from the idea of the cold wound spreading, spreading, leaching the heat from his skin, his eyes. No.



She had to get in touch with him.



Now.



Somehow.




After another long, long, pause while her thoughts echoed around her aching skull, Gemma padded through to the bathroom, and pulled out the packet hidden behind the shampoo, riffling through for the maps.



So.



Marsh’s office was downstairs, two windows to the right. Or to the left, if you were looking out of your own window, deliberately not focusing on the distant, distant specks of trees marking the base of the cliff.



Gemma felt slightly light headed, divorced, like she was ludicrously part of a fictional children’s adventure story as she hauled spare sheets out of the ornate chest at the foot of the bed, and knotted them together. Enough of them to make a long enough rope. With checked and double checked knots.



Not looking down.



Not.



That’s long enough now.



One more for luck.



Thinking resolutely of Mac slowly poisoning himself, Gemma tied her makeshift rope to one of the bedposts, turned her back to the window, and wrapped the ridiculously silky fabric around her arms and across her back for a classic abseil. She leaned against it, testing, in the comfort of her room and took a deep breath.



It held.



Another deep breath.



He’s killing himself. You’re the only person who can tell him. Stop him.



Gemma shut her bedroom door to pretend she was asleep, and with careful footsteps, backed out of the window, walking slowly down the wall, resolutely only looking at where she carefully placed her feet.



For some reason, the lyrics, “On a rope, on a rope, got me hanging on a rope” were echoing repeatedly in her head with each slow step. She smiled, her heart lightening as she became more adept at moving smoothly, carefully with the sheet-rope– Mac would like the idiotic aptness of the words. Although, actually, it was probably a good job he couldn’t see this. He was overprotective anyway, and Gemma wasn’t sure that objecting to this activity qualified as “over”. Her Dad would also ground her if he could see her now, having made her swear to always act sensibly on the rock before he even took her up that first boulder with her brothers. But this was sensible. In light of the alternative.



It’s worth it.



She smiled softly, wryly, to herself again.



There was a phone on the desk. Hurrah! She could see it through the glass, a beautiful, sleek white model quietly waiting to be used.



And the next-door window was open.



Stealthily, Gemma edged herself closer, and peeked in.



The decadence of this bedchamber – it definitely wasn’t merely a room, it was a chamber – surpassed even the outrageous opulence of her own. It was staggering, the vast, mountainous silk-hung four-poster dwarfing even the looming shadow of the heavy gothic carved wardrobe. Mirrors and beautiful, sumptuous tapestries vied with each other for wall space, and the dark red carpet looked as though it had been planted years ago, sprayed with hairgro, and left to run riot – while the drapes – hmmm, the drapes. Handy.



Gingerly, Gemma reached in and hauled herself behind the fall of heavy, dark red velvet, as silently as she could. She stood, unnerved in the heavy silence of this arrogant, masculine room, and listened carefully, heart hammering.

Nothing.



Silently, she untied the sheet-rope from her waist and fastened the end to the tie-back behind the curtain, hidden from the room.



Her heart was stuttering. Even as a human, she knew whose room this was. She could practically scent him, sense him in the air. And he scared her. Sent her heart into overdrive and a shimmer of aching tension across her skin, her scalp creeping back towards the window. There was just something so powerful, so predatory sheathed under that smooth exterior. If he found her in his room… She stood frozen, shivering, breaths short and fearful.



Mac.



The thought of her wolf, of the cold, poisonous scar on his stomach, jolted her, and she pulled herself together, cursing herself inwardly to impel movement, before edging carefully out from her hiding place, heading to the door of the empty study.



To the phone.



Luckily, Mac’s number was one of those she had memorised – from the old days, when she’d just lusted after him quietly, drooling on her own in her room at their flat. Mmmm.



Happy days. Although there was definitely something to be said for putting thought into action. Like licking – she could never have imagined how damn good he tasted, or how his skin shuddered lightly under her lips… or – Not now, she cursed her stupid, wayward thoughts as the blood began to rush heatedly through her veins. The Wayward Ones, hauled to an abrupt halt in their abandoned, heedless rush into liquid fire memories, looked back at her with melting, reproachful eyes as she folded them up, stuffed them back in a mental drawer and turned the key.



That deep voice’ll be whispering in your ear soon anyway, the smug murmur oozed disobediently out from behind the lock, causing her nipples to harden and the ache to tighten in her belly. Shut up.



“Marsh?” Mac’s voice was deep, a slight rasp of sleep to the surprised tone as he picked up.



“Mac. It’s me, listen.” Gemma didn’t dare speak above a whisper, hidden crouched in the knee space under the desk.



“What’re you doing in Jon’s rooms?” Mac’s voice shot to an aggressive rumble, hackles audibly rising down the phone. Irritatingly, liquid heat pulsed between Gemma’s thighs. He cares! squealed the insatiable corner of her mind. She ignored it, concentrating on why she was here, and fear for him dampened the heat rushing through her.



“I snuck in,” she whispered back. “Shut up and listen.”



“Gemma, get out of there – you’re – you can’t be found in his private rooms, he -.”



“I know, listen to me,” Gemma hissed at him, “They may find me any minute but I had to contact you, had to.” She was almost in tears, worry tightening her throat, and abruptly she heard silence on the other end of the line. Then, “Listening, Picchu,” he murmured softly. His tone was dangerous, poised, alert.



She explained swiftly into the silence echoing down the phone. His breath became slightly less angry, heavier with every word, while Gemma slowly became miserably aware of how far-fetched, how ludicrous it all sounded. She could feel her own doubts creeping into her tone as she faltered to a halt, and could hear him thinking what to reply through the calm breaths in the silence.



“I had to tell you,” she whispered forlornly, “I know it sounds stupid, but I’m so scared, what if it’s true?”



“It doesn’t sound stupid, Gem,” he breathed quietly back. “In fact, it explains a lot.”



Her heart clenched – fear and relief, and she leaned silently against the polished hardwood side of the footwell, tears rolling down her cheeks. He really was being poisoned. Maybe. Oh please let him get better.



“Can you tell me the compound? Or actually, Will’s just picking up, can you speak to him? – he’ll understand better.” There was a click and abruptly, another voice, brisk and calm, was on the line and Gemma heard herself reciting her theory again – a woman also cut in occasionally, posing additional questions, asking for clarity, sifting alertly through what Gemma could recall of the complex formulation.



There was a resounding silence after she had told them as much as she could, and promised to write out the formula for the MacKeld cubs as soon as she got back to her room – apparently they’d just been woken up and told to go and get ready to collect it.



“Can you use another treatment?” whispered Gemma. She heard the woman sigh, and then the silence down the line echoed ominously. “Mac, please!”



“Will?” Mac queried softly.



“There’s the old method,” murmured the male voice, his tones clipped with held-back feelings, “but it was never reported as very reliable, and I’ve no idea where we’d get hold of half of the ingredients nowadays. I’ll look into it.”



“I can find something,” said Gemma determinedly, “I’ll head back to the lab and sort out an alternative that will leach out this Argen, so –.”



“This isn’t Argen,” murmured the woman, worriedly.



“And no way – don’t you dare move from Marchmont, Picchu.” Mac’s voice was deep, harsh. “The Grey is definitely after you, and if he finds out you know this – they already killed Anne.”



Gemma’s breath stopped in her lungs. “What?” she murmured, sharply, shocked. That poor, prostituted young girl. “But I – I thought she’d be safe as a MacKeld!”



“Ambushed on the way back to the range with Sam – he barely managed to stay on his feet until Mark’s squad arrived in answer their SOS, but the girl …” the growl was rising in his voice, deepening, “She’d had her teeth filed. Torn to pieces. Defenceless.”



Gemma gasped softly, a shudder of revulsion, “Why would a wolf do that?”



“For blow jobs,” Mac’s growl was disgusted, “Some yips wear caps, some idiots grind their teeth to blunt stumps to please their mates,” his voice darkened again. “Then some – some I don’t think have a choice, but that’s an idea so alien to wolf culture that it’s unthinkable to most.”



Caught in hot memory, Gemma murmured, “So if I were a wolf, I couldn’t have -,” then suddenly recalled the other two listeners, and flushed scarlet, falling silent.



The silence echoed. Then she heard Mac rumble huskily, “Get off the line, you two.” He wasn’t talking to Gemma, and she heard the slight ping of a replaced receiver, her heart picking up as his soft breathing deepened. A long sigh sounded in her ear, and her blood tingled.



“Thank-you, Picchu.” She had never heard or felt such warm depth of feeling in his voice, and it spread through her, warming her, heating her. He would be alright. She waited, peaceful now, despite her vulnerable position crouched under a desk in a forbidden room half way down a cliff. Some things were unimportant.



“Are you alright?” he murmured in concern.



“I’m worried about you – what’s the alternative method?”



“No idea, Will’ll let me know. Don’t worry, I won’t get any worse now, and we’ll find a solution in time – there’s no hurry. How are you?”



“Nick wouldn’t know I knew, Mac,” she pleaded softly, rushing the words out, “If I go and test a few possibilities, he’d have no reason to suspect, no way of knowing I was even there-.”



“Gemma,” Mac interrupted on a sarcastic drawl, “Nicolas has been after you from the start. Whether he suspects you’re on to him or not is pretty irrelevant, I’d say, he’d try and collect whatever. You are not safe elsewhere. Leave it. I’ll be fine – William’ll sort it. You need to get out of that room, stay safe in your own suite – it won’t be much longer now.”



“But -.”



“Leave it,” he growled deeply. “And get going, Gem, you – my blood is seething with the idea that you’re in Marsh’s rooms, even though I saw him in Himlesky six hours ago and know he’d be hard pressed to be back yet.” Gemma relaxed slightly at this piece of information. And the rough feeling in his voice. “Get back to your rooms, Picchu. Jon’ll know that you’ve been there as soon as he gets in, but if he asks, tell him I ordered you to call me. Just don’t be there in his rooms – leave now.”



Arrogant alpha. There was something very stirring in his vehemence. The heat in his demanding voice melted into her blood – she knew how much she loved the demanding side of Mac. But she wasn’t one of his obedient pack. Not going just yet.



Gemma sighed huskily, “Bossy, bossy. You do need me to shut you up. Somehow. Hmmm. Let me think.” And she swallowed, audibly, luxuriously, down the phone.



There was a harsh intake of breath. A pause for two heartbeats. Then Mac’s voice came, silkily dangerous, down the line, “You really, really do not want to provoke me when you’re in such a defenceless position, Gemma. I’m angry enough as it is that I’ve been forbidden to protect you while you finish healing.”



Gemma instantly felt a little ashamed of herself. Although her blood wasn’t cooling down, if anything it was simmering to the boil in response to his tone. She sighed again, her nipples hardening back to aching peaks. “I know, I just – I can’t behave around you. Please, Mac, say something – um. Something to take to my lonely bed with me.” Her cheeks heated to crimson as a pulse of heat surged liquid between her thighs and she whispered, “Please?”



What was wrong with her? Slept with him twice and now she was turning into an insatiable wanton? She never said things like that. Um. Except to Mac. Constantly.



His voice as he replied was deeper, controlled, soft biting words wreathed in silken heat.



“How about this, Gem. If you don’t get off his phone and back to your room in the next fifteen seconds, then when I do get hold of you, I’ll tie you to my own goddamn bed and make sure you learn what the consequences of scaring me like this are. And believe me, I’d make sure you were begging, begging me for forgiveness with every breath.”



Her heartbeat shot to racing in an instant, and her throat dried as a hot wave of lust pulsed through every fibre of her. She trembled uncontrollably, gulped in a breath, and rasped weakly, “Thanks.”



“Ten,” he shot back curtly, she could hear his anger deepening again – her blood was singing in response, heat thundering in her veins.



“I wish I could kiss you goodnight,” she whispered huskily.



“Four. Dammit, Gemma.” Her heart skipped a beat at the soft fury in his tone, but she could hear the tension of worry underneath and murmured softly, “Sorry. I’m gone. G’night Mac.” And quickly, co-ordination completely shot, she lurched out of her hiding place to gently, shakily replace the receiver.



Her breath was heaving and she tried to keep it quiet as she edged back into the bedroom. Hot, hot want was aching between her thighs and she had to bite her lip to keep quiet as she scrambled fumbling back behind the curtain, shuddering. Was she insane? Of all the stupid, idiotic places to beg for phone sex – her cheeks flared again as she began dazedly to knot the sheet end back around her waist.



And she was pretty sure that her final goodnight had pushed her just past the time limit. What if Mac actually did carry out his threat? Oh please, please. Her lips parted and she had to bite hard on her lower lip to halt the moan that rose in her throat. Tied to his bed. Begging. Get a grip, she hissed at herself inwardly.



Gemma was lightly shuddering as she wrapped the sheet-rope back around herself and eased her overheated frame out into the cool night breeze. It played over her peaked, aching nipples, and she lost a little whimper into the darkness. She hauled herself up to the knot above her head as she edged sideways, scrambling back towards being directly underneath her own bedroom window. Her sweating hands slipped a little and she slid down, the silky sheets twined around her legs, until she was halted by the hard jam of the next knot against her aching, wet slit. A bolt of pure, numbing desire thundered through her and before she knew what had happened, she was in freefall, the adrenaline of terror finally shattering the tangle of lust clouding her mind, her scream smothered by the wrenching jolt of the knot around her waist as she landed on it, knocking the breath out of her.



Urg. Uh.



As she swung in a sickening, dizzying arc across the dark and light squares of the windows in the lower floor, Gemma furiously ordered herself to remain silent, regaining her breath, inwardly thanking her Dad for years of practice falls while rock-climbing. Her momentum then began to carry her on in a rising arc, sweeping her past a brief view of soft firelight on warm skin behind a long window– a lot of warm, bare skin, and realisation made her cheeks flare with heat just as she was brought up short, abruptly jerked to a halt when the sheet-rope above her caught on something. Desperately she grabbed at the edge of the next adjacent window to stop herself from swinging back into view as she heard a deep, roughened male voice murmur, “What was that?”



Heart pounding, Gemma stared, incredulous, at the wide open window she had halted just in front of. If she had swung two feet further, she would have gone splat into the pane like a cartoon character. She bit her lip savagely again as she smothered the insane urge to giggle, her toes settling gently on the small ledge crossing between the two windows just below her feet while she turned her eyes gratefully up to the flagpole above the first window that had saved her from such an ignominious discovery.



Then the urge to laugh left her abruptly as she heard the careless, husky silk of Madam replying, “Hmm. Obviously I need to work a bit harder at keeping your attention.”



Damn.



Damn. Damn. Damn.



Mac really was going to kill her for this. Tie her to his bed. Both windows gave onto Madam’s room, and there was no way she could climb up without swinging back past the first. She didn’t know what Louise would do if she found here, but didn’t really want to find out. Damn Mac for making her so damn fluttery just at the mere hint of his tying her to a bed. You asked. Her blood pulsed longingly again. Oh please. Control yourself, woman. What is wrong with you?



A long, low moan drifted out on the night breeze.



That.



“Your musk smells so divine,” the words were interspersed with soft slurping sounds. “Intoxicating, bewitching, and I have never felt you so hard.” There was a touch of awe and – irritation? – in Louise’s breathless voice, colouring her tone. There was also a strange lisp to her words, as though she was wearing a brace.



“Intoxicating,” she repeated, and her voice was muffled on the word, a smothered grunt shutting her off, which was then echoed by the hard, rhythmic breathing of a large, excited male.



Oh-oh. Gemma so did not want to hear this, but she daredn’t move, could only quiver, soundlessly, trying to close her ears. And trying to ignore the damn, unwanted tingling of her blood in response to the breathless sounds. A memory of Mac’s muscled torso arched in pleasure as she muffled herself around his straining cock shuddered meltingly through her where she stood and Gemma again had to bite hard on her sore lower lip to restrain her whimper. Not NOW.



“What do you expect?” she heard the deep, male voice growl in angry reply. “You have to let us fight it out, Madam.”



Louise made a soft, mewling sound, muffled, and a second voice added hoarsely, “Yes, that’s it, take it deeper, Madam, relax.”



Holy cow, there were two guys in there with her!



And – no way did Gemma want to join them, but the sounds sighing from the room made it even more achingly excruciating that she was stuck here at Marshmont, forced to listen to this. She hadn’t seen Mac for days – long, increasingly aching hours. She could practically taste him on her lips. Gemma’s tongue snaked out between her teeth, and licked slowly. She wanted him. Burned to touch him. Hear him make those soft grunts of pleasure as she sheathed him in her mouth. Oh please.



“The Alpha is not back yet,” the first voice interrupted her spiralling thoughts brusquely, “And the alfamme doft is driving us all crazy as she ripens – you have to let us fight for precedence.”



What? a tingle of unease ran up Gemma’s spine, and a little rational thought crept back in, halting her gentle rubbing of her peaked nipples against the rough stone. She hadn’t even been aware she was doing it, lips parted, dreaming of Mac groaning under her soft bites.



“Deeper, deepest. You love all of this fucking huge monster down your throat, don’t you Madam Capped?” growled the second voice, “That’s why you make us each inspect her now, while she’s coming into blood heat. Scent her.” The slapping, slurping gasps increased, tempo picking up as he groaned.



“Oh god, her scent,” he groaned again, deeper, “Remnants of the alpha shiele melding into her doft, that intoxicating mix – .” He began to grunt fast, an impossibly rapid rhythm of muffled little cries, punctuated by squelching slaps drifting out to where Gemma clung, frozen, to the wall, the ache in her thighs still infuriatingly strong, despite the clear, cold thoughts congealing in her mind. Aroused and cold and furious.



What? What if -? When was her period? No. No way. No way.



A loud, gagged female shriek suddenly exploded from inside as a deeper grunt joined the slapping noises.



“You want us this fucking hard all the time. This is what you want.” The first male was growling, breathing deeply, rhythmically as he punctuated his sentences with further, deeper grunts. “Enjoy it while you can, Madam – i’ll give it to you as hard and fast as you want.” A second, muffled moan sounded on the air, punctuated by the pounding noises and both males’ harsh, heavy breathing. “But tonight or tomorrow, she’ll be ripe and then you won’t be able to fucking stop us all from fighting for her any more, we’ll be on the rut.”



There was a shadow of shame in his voice as he continued angrily, breathlessly, pounding, “And you should’ve let us convey to the Alpha so he could come home and have her. She’s not turned – can’t protect herself from one of us, let alone the pack. And the doft is already driving us insane.”



“Fuck, yeah,” groaned the second male, panting feverishly. “I’ve never felt this – I understand the legends of the female weres now. If they smelt like her…”



No way. No way. No way.



Oh.




Gemma was frozen, shivering, holding herself to the rock even as the infuriating pool of heat in her belly swirled and her blood tingled with unbearable, unprecedented lust. Damn. Damn. Damn. No way.



No.



Gemma tried to pull herself together to formulate a plan, tried to ignore the mental images heating her feverish blood from the sounds in the room, memories of Mac’s husky growl, fantasies of being tied to his bed, begging – she just couldn’t, couldn’t cut it off. Except – NO. She wanted Mac. No-one else. Where the hell was he? This explained why she was so damn horny. So damn, damn horny. And why the guards left that uneasy, aching, quivering irritation in her stomach – getting worse these last two days. No. It couldn’t be. She was human, for god’s sake.



Mainly.



What had Mac said? Healed within a week – and that had been three days ago. Her period was due tomorrow. No.



NO.



Damn damn damn.



Trying, trying furiously to ignore the inferno which had ignited inside her at the soft breathless sounds, and the lustful heat in the male voices – heat engendered by her, of wanting her – noGemma suddenly became aware of a soft slithering sound and looked up to see a white thing fluttering in the darkness toward her face. She flinched away, then recognised that it was a piece of paper on the end of a rope. In the shimmer of light from Madam’s windows, she could read the stark capitals scrawled on it.

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