Carnal Series 1 - Carnal lesson by Harper Vonna Page B

she’d take what she could. Much more important, she was able to drink—after a fashion. Like an animal.
    He pushed the cloth between her legs and against her labia. “Keep it there. Let it drop and you’ll regret it.”
    Pick your battles. Even as the warning sunk in, she loathed herself for giving in so easily. He waited until she’d pressed her thighs together, then grabbed her bound wrists and backed her out. Water continued to sheet off her hair, making it impossible for her to see what he was doing. After what felt like an eternity, she shook her hair out of her eyes and looked behind her.
    His erection tented his wet shorts.
    “ The more excited a man is,” he said as he cupped himself, “the more you’ve always liked it. You figure you have him right where you want him. The power’s in your hands. Well guess what, not anymore.”
    Several times now he’d hinted at the reason behind her capture, and she no longer wondered if he’d taken her to feed his own warped desires.
    “ Have you ever fucked a washcloth?” he asked. “That might be interesting, but it’s going to have to wait. You want to know why?”
    Despising both of them, she nodded.
    “ Because lesson number two is coming up.”
     
    Chapter Eight
    She’d thought he’d take her into the bedroom and rape her. Instead, he’d ordered her out of the shower. In a fog, she’d started to walk past him when he pulled the washcloth out from between her legs, leaving suds to dribble down the insides of her thighs. After attaching the chain to her collar, he’d pulled her, still dripping, into what had probably once been a second bedroom and dropped the chain.
    A dungeon. A cage.
    Bars marred the view from the single window. The bed consisted of a single mattress and a frame with metal rings welded to the head and footboards. A couple of times Norman had paid her to pretend to be his sex slave—something his wife refused to have anything to do with. The first time he’d approached her with his kink, she’d turned him down, but he’d persisted. Realizing she could turn things to her advantage, she’d insisted on proper compensation in exchange for playing his game. Truth was, she’d been looking forward to the experience, but Norman’s imagination and courage hadn’t gone beyond padded cuffs. He’d spread-eagled her on his bed when his wife was out of town, leaving her with so much freedom of movement she couldn’t get into the scene.
    Norman couldn’t possibly be behind what was happening now, could he? The pussycat would never want Reno to beat her.
    But if not Norman, who?
    She’d barely noticed the night stands on either side of the bed, but as Reno started toward the one on the left, she knew she didn’t want to see what they contained. One corner of the room was taken up with something resembling a saw horse. Cuffs attached to the four legs near the floor left her with no doubt of its use. Hating doing it, she nevertheless pictured herself cuffed to the restraint with her ass high and head low. A heavy, floor-to-ceiling metal X dominated another corner. More cuffs and chains were affixed to the ends of the X, perfect for restraining a captive—her.  A large half barrel that reminded her of pictures Medieval torture racks took up a third corner. She’d fight being stretched over it on her back, but in the end Reno would have her where he wanted her with her limbs immobilized and breasts and belly exposed for whatever sick punishment he had in mind.
    Whimpering, she whirled and ran for the door. The chain slapped against her legs.
    “ What good do you think that’s going to do you?” Reno asked. “In case you’ve forgotten, your hands are useless.”
    Groaning, she pressed her shoulder against the unyielding door.
    “ Don’t chicken out on me. Given what a ball buster you are, I figured you’d have the guts to face your lessons head on.”
    A few hours ago she would have given him a thorough tongue lashing and called 911.