Acquired: Angel

Author's note:

This story features themes of drugging, manipulation/mind control, and degradation. See below.

I wrote this story as a sort of partnership with Angel Provocateur after she floated the challenge of writing a non-con scene for a woman too tall for the stereotypical 'threw her over my shoulder' trope. Angel provided the tone of the fantasy, her irresistible physical presence inspired me to flesh out the details, and I tried to do justice to both through my writing.

Angel reviewed the draft and made a few suggestions, mostly to make the story more sinister and degrading. The plot, writing, and characters (other than Angel) are entirely my own. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Thank you for reading!

=======

*** The Men ***

"She

is

a goddess, isn't she?"

"All six foot of her."

Zane, Max, and Cooper watched beach volleyball through sunglasses that failed to conceal their interest in Angel. They were in good company. Of the spectators, most of the men and no few of the women were obsessed with the brunette who was dominating the game.

Angel stood, her body loose and knees bent as her eyes followed the ball sailing toward her side of the sand court. As it arrived she strode and leapt, intercepting the ball well above the net. But instead of spiking it as the opposing team expected, she tipped the ball back to a waiting teammate to deliver the shot.

"Twenty-one to fourteen," someone called out. "Game!"

With a whoop, Angel turned to her teammates, grinning and collecting high-fives. Then, as the others walked off the court she punctuated the victory by performing a leggy cartwheel, hair flying and breasts bouncing heavily. Once back on her feet she flashed a bright, benevolent smile and brushed the sand from her hands.

Cooper, the oldest of the three men, said dryly, "She certainly knows how to get attention, doesn't she?"

Zane nodded. "Yep. She's got it and she flaunts it."

Angel hugged a female teammate, grabbed drinks from the cooler, and with her friend in tow trotted toward the surf where a banner proudly proclaimed "Epikk Consulting Retreat 2024."

"You said you went after that, Max?" Cooper asked.

Max groaned, jabbing restlessly at the sand with a twig. "Yeah. Did it right, too. Got her away from the office, hung out a few times first, all friendly, drinks... thought I was her type but, ah, no."

"Down. In. Flames!" Zane said dramatically.

"Suck my fat balls Z-man. Didn't see you take a shot."

"Fact," Zane said, his eyes following Angel as she pranced into the waves and back, laughing. "I like the fun-sized ones."

"You saying you wouldn't climb that mountain?"

"I didn't exactly say that. I mean, if the mountain came to Moses..."

Cooper watched the exchange with a smile. Max and Zane were more alike than not, each over six feet tall, around thirty, and fit. Cooper doubted that either one had trouble with women, so it amused him to see them so fruitlessly besotted with Angel. "Is she bitchy about it?"

"No," Max said. "I mean, maybe a little. Lots of guys hit on her. She must get tired of it, but a week after I asked her out she invited me to a party she was having. Like nothing had happened."

"Anyway," Cooper said, his eyes taking in the scene around them, "thanks for inviting me this weekend. Wish I worked for a company that could shell out for a retreat like this every year. Beach resort, food and drink, activities..."

"You aren't hurting, old man," Zane said. "You just got back from Italy, remember."

"It's true that it doesn't suck to be me," he acknowledged, "but you enjoy a freebie differently. And I'm glad I got to see Angel in person. Up to now I've only heard your stories."

"Wish I had more intimate details to share," Max said. He shook his head. "Chica is something else."

"She is," Zane agreed, his eyes still fixed longingly on Angel.

Cooper showed a sly grin. "What if I said there was a way for you to acquire those 'intimate details'?"

*

"Okay, Zane and I volunteered for cleanup duty," Max said, handing Cooper a flyer.

Bonfire Tonight

7:30 - 10:00*

Drinks and Snacks

Boathouse Amphitheater

1/4 Mile North (left) Along the Beach

*Remember! 8:00 strategic planning session tomorrow morning

"There's a bonfire every year?" Cooper asked.

"Yes." Max and Zane joined Cooper where he stood on the beach, waves just reaching to lap against his toes. "Usually on the second night like this. Families with kids will come and leave early. A few of us hang out until later, but it will be clearing out before ten."

"And you can convince Angel to stick around for one more drink?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," Zane confirmed.

Max shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. "Are you sure this will work?"

"It will." Cooper plucked a shell from the soft sand, shook out the water, then flung it back into the surf. "I've used it before."

"Shit! How did it go?"

"Just like I told you. Takes maybe ten minutes for it to take full effect, but after that they'll believe almost anything you tell them."

"And then forget it all in the morning?"

"Not exactly." Behind them, people were starting to emerge from the resort and walk down the beach toward the bonfire site. "They remember fragments, but they'll be mixed with whatever suggestions were implanted. That's why it works so well to use it when they're drinking. They'll just think they drank too much."

"You got this from your doctor?" Max asked.

"Not my doctor,

a

doctor. A friend of mine who has a sexual wellness practice told me about it and gave me a few. Says the FDA will never approve it, but until then he's stocking up."

"Smart man."

*

The bonfire went as they always did, according to Max and Zane. A company VP made a few welcoming remarks then discretely left so her presence wouldn't inhibit the staff from enjoying themselves. There were marshmallows and roasting forks, sodas, beer and wine, and a few light snacks. Someone had brought a Bluetooth speaker and organized a three-song playlist competition that generated as much dancing as it did debates over conflicting tastes in music. The fire popped and crackled.

Angel didn't disappoint. She wore a pair of skin-tight jeans, flip flops, and a midriff-baring cotton top. In acknowledgment of the cool evening she had brought a flannel shirt but soon threw it aside to dance, giving the crowd a tantalizing view of her breasts bouncing and straining, seemingly eager to escape.

"Legs that go on for-fucking-ever," Cooper said, eyeing Angel's ass and thighs packed into the tight denim.

"Amen," Max added.

*** Angel ***

As they always did, the event began to taper off before ten. Families left early, followed by anyone who had a role in the next morning's strategy session. A few of the more footloose younger employees stuck around to grab another beer, but when Zane and Max made a show of beginning to clean up they got the hint and cleared out. Angel turned to leave with them but Max called out to her.

"Angel, hey, can you help out with litter?"

"Oh, sure." Angel smiled, took a bag, and began foraging for dropped cans and snack wrappers. The other three joined her, and in fewer than fifteen minutes they had tidied up the clearing.

"Thanks." Zane sat down on a bench and waved a bottle of bourbon. "Join us for a nightcap before we head back?"

"I do need something stronger than beer," Angel said. She sat next to Zane while Cooper poured the whiskey into paper cups and distributed them.

"How long have you three worked together?" Cooper asked.

"I've been at Epikk for about seven years," Max said. "Angel, you joined us two years later, right?"

"Yes." She was still slightly flushed from dancing, the heat of the fire, and the alcohol. "Epikk is okay. Cool people," she added.

"We are!" Zane said, hoisting his drink. "To cool people and a steady paycheck!"

"A steady paycheck!" Angel echoed, and the four toasted. After Cooper poured them each another generous splash of bourbon she waved her hand. "That's enough, thanks. No more after this."

"Right. We all have to be respectable corporate citizens tomorrow," Max said with a wink.

Angel nodded, then peered at the fire, its light reflected in her large, dark eyes. "What about you three," she asked. "How did you get to be friends?"

"Gym," Cooper explained. "These two Neanderthals took mercy on me and let me work into their routine."

"You seem fit," Angel said with a polite smile. She rubbed at her face, feeling suddenly flushed. "What kind of whiskey is this?"

Max peered at her. "The bourbon kind. You okay?"

Angel stood, fanning herself. "Fuck. This shit is strong or something."

"Maybe you should sit back down?" Zane suggested.

She did. Angel seated herself, looked into the empty cup, then at the others. Something wasn't right. She felt flushed, half drunk already, but the other three seemed unaffected, peering at her curiously. "You guys don't feel anything?"

"Not me," Cooper said calmly. "You're probably having a reaction to the bourbon. It should pass."

Angel sat for a moment longer while worry seeped into her. "Nooo," she said slowly. "No, I think I'll head back." She stood, shot the men a suspicious glance, and then looked for the path back through the woods.

To her alarm, the men rose, too. "We'll go with you," Cooper said, loping ahead of Angel, while Max and Zane fell in behind her. Angel glanced in both directions, but when none of the men appeared to threaten her she relaxed a touch and headed back toward the hotel.

After half a minute Zane asked "Are you sure you didn't drink too much?"

"I'm not drunk!" Angel insisted, turning back to glare at her co-worker. She turned forward again but the interruption had disrupted her stride and it took a moment for her to reorient herself. What was wrong with her?

"They're just worried about you," Cooper said, his voice soothing. "If you're feeling unwell you should go back and rest by the fire."

"I'm fine." Angel eyed Cooper warily while a disturbing idea crept into her mind. "Did you drug me?"

"With your boyfriend so close? I wouldn't dare!"

Angel stopped again, her head snapping back. "Boyfriend? Who...?" she mumbled, uncertainty creeping into her voice. Then she rallied. "No, this is bullshit!"

Cooper had to backpedal as Angel picked up speed. She was taller than his five-foot-ten frame, two decades younger, and spiking with adrenaline. Mahogany hair swayed wildly around her shoulders, sometimes spilling forward, gleaming in the moonlight, sometimes falling back to reveal her pale neck and bosom.

"Wow, seriously?" Max closed the distance, pulling almost even with Angel, his wiry beard jutting forward aggressively. "I know we've only been going out a couple of months, but it's kinda cold to say I'm not your boyfriend. Have we just been fucking for fun?"

"Nooo," Angel said. She glanced at him sideways without breaking her stride. He was tall enough... she could remember considering dating him but no, he wasn't her boyfriend. "You... this isn't right."

She might have outdistanced them then. Where Max and Zane were solid with muscle, Angel was lean and leggy, with an endurance athlete's build. But uncertainty tore at her. The drug, she was sure that they had drugged her whiskey, was clouding her mind. She hesitated.

"Why?" Angel asked, still making progress along the poorly lit trail, but unable to shake her pursuers. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Zane caught up with Angel, touching her shoulder. "We're just worried about you. Come back to the clearing."

"No!" Angel slapped Zane's arm away. "No, get away." She lurched forward again, but with Cooper slow-walking in front and Max and Zane close behind she couldn't maintain momentum. "Leave me alone!" She pushed on, trying to keep her focus. Under ideal conditions it would have been no more than a ten minute walk back to the hotel. In the near complete darkness, and with the men pressing in and distracting her it would take Angel twice that.

Cooper spoke again, his voice rich with calm assurance. "It's so dark here. Let's go back to the clearing. Your friends are there."

Fear surged within her. The men had drugged her, and they would rape her if she returned to the clearing with them. Except her friends wouldn't let them, would they? And the clearing was so close and the fire so warm. No... that was a lie. Everyone else had gone back to the hotel. It was the only safe place.

Angel pushed ahead once again, shouldering past Cooper. He smiled benignly at her, then once she was past him signaled for the other two to move to the front. Soon their order was reversed, with Zane and Max heading along the path toward the hotel, followed by Angel, and then Cooper.

"I'm glad you decided to come back with us," Cooper said after a moment. "We can all rest at the clearing."

It took a long moment before Angel felt the words sink in. Cooper was lying. She was heading to the hotel, not the clearing. But... Zane and Max were in front of her now. Had she turned around? Angel stumbled to a halt, her mind weakened by the drug and splintered by the competing realities on offer. Which direction was which? Where were her friends?

"Angel, dear." Max took her hand gently, looming tall and protective next to her. "Come with me. I'll take you back."

So she let him lead her along the path, no longer sure which way they were headed, and not sure it mattered. Was Max her boyfriend? They had gone out for drinks; she remembered that now. But was it as boyfriend and girlfriend, or just as acquaintances? He was handsome enough, standing two inches over Angel, which was nice. And his beard jutted darkly forward, suggesting a confidence that she found attractive. Maybe they were a couple.

Meanwhile Cooper and Zane walked ahead, eventually disappearing into the night. Zane she liked. He had always been funny and kind, or at least Angel's befuddled mind could only remember kindness.

It was Cooper that troubled her. Angel usually found older men attractive, sexy even, with a relaxed confidence that younger men hadn't yet earned. But she found Cooper unsettling. His gaze was too direct, too possessive. There had been no concern in his eyes, only patience and hunger.

*

Angel wasn't even surprised when Max escorted her not to the safety of the brightly lit hotel lobby, but the dim clearing next to the bonfire. She remembered not wanting to return to the site, but couldn't reason out why. It was warm from the heap of still glowing coals, and Cooper was busy laying out an oversized wool blanket. Angel sat down, wrapping her arms around her knees, and Max sat behind her and gave her a shoulder rub. It was nice. When Zane brought her another serving of bourbon she took a sip, letting its warmth mingle with that of the fire.

Max pushed Angel's hair to one side and kissed her neck. She tensed. There was nothing familiar about it, no comforting memory of his beard tickling her, how firmly he gripped her shoulder, or of how eagerly his mouth sought her skin. Angel parted her lips to object but Max was already turning her, kissing her mouth with the same ferocity.

Though he noticed her discomfort, Max only grew more insistent. "Just a kiss," he said, "it's been so long."

Angel tried to endure his advances. Max was forceful, gathering her up in his arms and pulling her toward him. He kissed her neck again, then mouth, then down her chest until the fabric of her top thwarted him. He was a blur of activity, his hands as busy as his mouth, clutching at the hem of her shirt, tugging it up even as he held her close against him.

"Oh, Max!" Confusion washed over Angel, a bewildering confluence of desire and uncertainty. Her body was already responding to him physically even as the last shreds of rational thought warned her,

This is not a good man.

As she tried to form the words of a protest his fingers found her bra snap, popped it open, and began to tug it up along with the thin cotton top.

"Fuuuck," Zane groaned as the men were treated to the first glimpses of Angel's tits. They were gorgeous, bouncing free of confinement, soft and jiggly. Max didn't even bother to pull the bra or top all of the way off. He dove straight to a nipple, beginning to lick and suck sloppily while jolts of confusing pleasure shot through her.

Meanwhile Cooper continued to prepare the scene. He pitched more logs onto the fire, kicked off his shoes, and replaced the Bluetooth playlist with one more urgent and driving. He watched with interest, but unhurried, like a man who knows a meal will be kept warm for him.

Max picked up the cue carried in the pulsing beats of the song. With a grip that would not be denied he tugged Angel's breast to his mouth, sucking harder and rougher.

Angel sagged back, leaning her head away from Max. Lustrous, wavy locks fell behind her, leaving the pale expanse of her neck highlighted in the firelight. She groaned as Max devoured her breasts, yielding to his assertive tongue and teeth. She swatted at him, intending to push him back but only ended up giving him an indecisive embrace.

"Sit her up," Cooper said.

Ignoring Angel's surprised gasp, Max guided her upright, tore off her top, then steadied her. He fished out his cock, letting it hang, engorged. "I'm ready for that mouth," he said huskily.

Things were moving too quickly for Angel to process. Max was her boyfriend, right? So it was okay to give him a blowjob, she supposed. But with the other two men looking on? "Can we go somewhere private?" she asked.

"It's cool." Max brushed Angel's hair out of the way. "They're friends."

Fighting back her misgiving, Angel opened her mouth and let Max stuff his cock past her lips. She usually enjoyed giving head. When a man's cock is in your mouth you're the one in control, giving him pleasure that he craves. You get to decide how far you take things and even how creative you can be with your lips and tongue. But this was different. Max was already curling his fingers tightly into her hair, urging his cock deep as it swelled and hardened. She gagged, but he didn't ease up.

"Yeah, that's good," Max groaned. "Gonna use that mouth. Use it like a cunt."

A jolt of alarm rang through her. This rough man couldn't be her boyfriend, but he was directing her with such confidence. She placed her hands against his hips, limiting the force behind his thrusts and for a time took a sort of pleasure from the sensation. Whatever their relationship, Max's cock was real, hot, and hard. Each overeager thrust validated her womanhood, her ability to please. She took him again and again, cock head, bulging veins and shaft plunging into the inviting, wet warmth of her mouth.

Zane approached, fumbling at his fly. Like Max, he was familiar to her, a vaguely comforting presence. Also like Max he pulled his cock free to slash the air. Was he also her boyfriend? That couldn't be right, but his eyes were alive with expectation, and as he closed in Angel knew that it was her duty to please him. Max pulled his cock back and Zane took his place. The head of his cock was more pronounced than Max's, and Angel explored it while Zane let out a series of happy sounds.

"Lick the head. Yeah, lick it, put your tongue there. Like that, fuck!"

Angel pushed her lips over the head, enjoying the sensation of the velvety hardness. Zane hadn't grabbed her hair like Max had so she had more liberty to vary her strokes, pulling back to tongue his shaft before popping it back into her mouth. When she teased his sack with her fingers Zane rewarded her with a groan and soon she was bobbing on his cock while gently tugging on his sack. She felt his cock twitch in her mouth.

"Don't cum, bro," Max laughed.