Number's Up

The four men who Sylvianna had once called her colleagues had not kept her in her own home for long.

Once they'd used her to satisfy themselves, they'd taken a short break to use the shower facilities in her underground cell system and returned. They hadn't bothered to dress.

They'd put her in a far less comfortable position, too, though that said little when she was already so far out of her comfort zone. Helplessness went against her very nature, and now she felt nothing but. She was vulnerable. Exposed. A beast in a trap.

They'd put her on one of her other bondage tables -- this one equipped with a raised set of scaffolding that she'd been forced over, a bar propping up her hips which were then roped in place -- and her collar was clipped to an O-ring set in the table so her arse was humiliatingly presented to them. With her ankles already roped to her thighs and her hands bound behind her, she was going nowhere.

Left unattended while they showered, she'd fought and struggled, half in disbelief that within a matter of minutes she'd been overpowered and raped. For all her military training, she felt weak and defenceless. It was wrong.

They'd returned and used her again, instead taking it in turns to fuck her arse until they each filled her, leaving her dripping with hot, sticky cum between turns. It was as though they no longer had any interest in her pussy and her mouth.

When they were done -- well over an hour later, considering how they'd reached their climax once already -- they'd gone through her drawers and produced a plug. She leaked no more.

It was that plug she wore now, in this new place. Usually she was adept at keeping track of her location, going by terrain, turns, landmarks she could recognise. She didn't have the opportunity to witness anything. She'd faded in and out of consciousness on the journey, having had her panties and trousers pulled back on. With her arms still bound, they'd strapped her to the rings screwed in the floor of the van, drugged her and taken her away from her one safe haven on this earth. Safe no more.

Her eyes opened to the awareness that she was somewhere dim and not alone. Something twinged in her hand and she looked up to see an IV hanging above her.

They must've tried to keep me sedated but I burned through more of the drug than they--

Something crashed against the opposite wall.

Sitting up -- a little too suddenly, she realised too late, when the plug in her arse sent an unwanted spike of sensation through her -- she looked at where the noise had come from.

She was in a cell, she realised instantly. Two bright, yellow eyes looked down at her from an impressive height, set into a wolflike face. His lips were pulled back on his muzzle, revealing sharp teeth designed to rip and tear. Strings of drool dripped from both sides of his elongated maw. One of his hands -- easily big enough to span across her back -- was wrapped around a thick cock already dripping with precum. The other reached through the bars, grabbing for her ankles.

Swiftly realising that with a little perseverance, he might just prevail, Sylvianna jerked her feet away. Again, the buttplug sent a pulse of unexpectedly pleasurable heat through her that coiled in her belly.

A werewolf,

she thought to herself.

Allowed to shift...

"I see you met Julien." A small, masculine laugh. "He seems to like you. That's nice. It's giving me some ideas."

"As though you didn't already have those ideas, Aron." With a groan, Sylvianna struggled to sit up. With a shake of her head, she realised that the drug was still in her system, meant to keep her docile and pliable.

She felt neither.

It was then she realised that her situation had changed again. Though she was still dressed, her hands were now cuffed together in steel, and the manacles were chained to a heavy collar around her neck. It was loose enough that she could move it easily up and down, but there was no way it was coming off of her without the key. Still, she sat up on her unfettered heels, feeling the plug shift in her arse as it tried to reject it. It failed.

"You got me. Here, pretty kitty. I brought you presents." Aron held his hands up, and it was then she caught the glint of metal in the dim, fluorescent lighting.

There wasn't much to see of where she was. By the closeness of the air and the faint smell of damp, she knew she was underground. From the way their voices bounced off the stone walls, she knew there were a dozen or two cages just like the one she was in. She still couldn't think where she might be. She didn't even know how long they'd been driving. All she knew was that it couldn't be London... It couldn't be.

"Yeah? Why don't you come in here and try those cuffs on me?" She flashed her teeth, her own canines longer and thicker than his own. Her cat trumped his vampirism.

"I plan to. First, I need to know where you'd like them secured." He nodded at the opposite wall to where she sat -- the bars dividing her cell from the wolf beast's. "I quite like the idea of locking them in those two rings in the floor. That way, Julian will be able to grab you, pull your arse back and... Well. I'm sure your imagination can fill in the rest." He waved an idle hand. "Or I could just... you know... cuff them to the floor so you don't kick me when I try to talk to you."

Sylvianna's imagination

did

fill in the rest, so it was in her best interest that she didn't provoke Aron into the former. She smiled sweetly, manoeuvring onto her backside -- a feat she congratulated herself for, given how much the plug caused that nauseating pleasure-pain in her -- and waited. "By all means, my sweet, beloved Aron, come and chain me up some more."

The gate clicked open and swung inwards. It closed and automatically locked behind the vampire. When he got close enough, she kicked him.

Or, at least, she'd

tried

to kick him. He dropped the cuffs and caught her ankle, quickly swinging his free fist in towards her thigh.

Hot, screaming pain, shooting down to her foot and up her spine, dazing her.

The bullet wound. It hadn't healed.

By the time she came around, her ankles were cuffed and fastened to rings set in the floor, over a metre apart. She'd slumped onto her back and was panting for breath. At some point, the IV had ripped out of her hand. Hands which were held at her chest, still bound to her collar.

Aron crouched between her legs, leering down at her. "Even in pain, you truly were the most beautiful woman I knew." She didn't like the way he referred to her in the past tense. She wasn't dead yet. He stroked a hand across her hair. They'd kept it down, and the slippery, navel-length strands were tangled around her. "I've never seen such white-blond hair, so witchlike." He roughly grabbed a handful and lifted it to his nose, drawing in a long breath with a pleasant groan. "Delicious." Dropping the handful, he then traced the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. "Such full lips, so perfect for sucking dick. And those 'fuck-me' silver eyes." He cupped the side of her face, his thumb then brushing across her cheek. "It's all so startling when your skin is so dark and smooth, begging me to mark it."

He slapped her. Hard. It whipped her head to the side. Her only response was a fragile moan. She could barely focus on his words when her leg trembled with the aftershocks of pain.

"And your tits..." Hands gripped her chest and squeezed to the point of pain. "They ruin it all. Perhaps we can fix that. I'll get them full of milk, don't you worry, Sylvi."

An uncontrolled whimper slipped out of her. She heard a small hiss of released pressure from a canister and the werewolf in the next cell gave a snarling grunt and fell to the floor. When she looked up, she saw Aron holstering a tranquilizer gun.

"This time, I don't want an audience," he explained.

"Please don't drug me again," she found herself whispering. "Just let me go."

Was there any point in pleading? This was it. Even if she got free of her bindings, even if she broke out of the cell, Aron alone was too much of a match for her. That wasn't all. She recognised the smells of this place. Her colleagues were here. To add to that, there were vampiric scents she

didn't

recognise. Other supernatural beasts were thrown into the mix, too. Even if she got past Aron... they'd get her. It was what they did. It'd been what she'd done, until this.

Aron leaned his head sympathetically, reaching a hand up to tuck her hair out of her face.

"I can't, sweet kitty..." he spoke on a hushed voice. "I wish I could, but I can't."

There. A display of weakness. Of vulnerability.

"But you can, Aron. You can get me out of here. I'll even pay you. You've seen my house, my cars. You know I have money."

"But Sylvi..." He cupped her cheek again, running his thumb along her bottom lip once more. "I can't." He tugged it down and pressed gently, a lover's caress. "Because then I wouldn't be able to hear you beg." His voice turned as glacial as his scent, his lips pulling up to one side and his eyes darkening. "And you

will

beg."

She'd dared to hope and he'd played on her vulnerability. Everything she knew about him came rushing back. Vile, manipulative psychopath. A sadist, given free reign by those who'd provided the assignments.

"I was so heartbroken," he murmured, "when you ended things with me. Did you really think I would slink away to the shadows and let you get away with hurting me as badly as you had?"

"Hurting you?" Even in despair, anger and disbelief bled through. How dare he try and manipulate her? "Hurting you, Aron?

This

isn't because I

hurt

you. You're incapable of feeling hurt. You're a psychopath. I knew that, but I decided to dance with you anyway. You were dangerous and I liked that, I'll admit it." She continued even when he went to interrupt. "This is because I

humiliated

you. I broke up with you before you had the chance to ditch me, like you do every other girl who made the dumb mistake of getting too close. I got the jump on you, you got embarrassed and now you don't know how to handle it."

Aron hit her again. This time, she expected it. She spat out blood and turned her head back to face him, features set. "Go on, Aron."

"

No.

" A snarled word, heated with rage. His hand settled above her collar and squeezed until her surroundings darkened. She waited.

"That's it," she gasped. "More."

He released her. "No. You're not in a fucking position to make demands, you little bitch."

He sat back, forearms resting on his knees. He lifted a foot and pressed the boot to the V of her legs. In her bound position, she couldn't clamp her thighs together. With the bullet still lodged in her leg, she wasn't sure she even wanted to try for fear of pain.

The sole of his boot ground against her bruised sex. "You still haven't asked me why we used you. Why we're going to keep using you until we get bored of you or you're too useless to fuck anymore."

"I don't need to ask, Aron. I already know." She cried out when his boot pressed harder against her clit, but he said nothing. "You think I didn't go looking when you and the boys went quiet like you sometimes did? I found out where you were, Aron. I'm not the first colleague you've done this to. I know I won't be the last."

She watched how his eyebrows lifted in surprise, the way his impressed smile crossed his lips. Lips she'd once found so inviting. "Clever girl." The praise sounded so genuine, it struck fear in her. "So you'll be familiar with some of the shit that's coming next." It wasn't a question.

Just as well. She had no intention of jumping through his hoops and obediently playing her role in his games.

He came back up onto his knees and suddenly yanked her trousers down, taking her underwear with them. She was used to the exposure now. Then he tugged again and she both heard and felt the ripping and tearing. Her trousers fluttered to the floor in pieces. He then removed her boots and socks as well, leaving her lower half in just her underwear... somewhat. They were tight around her mid-thighs.

"Oh!" Aron's eyes dropped between her legs, a gentle chuckle shaking his shoulders. He reached down and tweaked her plug, tugging it gently before shoving it as far as it'd go. She jerked her hips and groaned, hoping against hope that her cunt wouldn't show the results of the disgusting, unwanted pleasure. "I completely forgot you had this in you. Still full to the brim with all our cum, Sylvi? You fucking slut."

She would've sworn and cursed but he ripped her underwear away from her and shoved the tattered fabric in her mouth. Then, holding it in place with one hand, he pulled out a roll of tape with the other. "I don't want to hear your voice anymore. You'll listen to me, now."

Ignoring her muffled protests, the way she shook her head, he taped over her lips and tossed the roll aside. She had a million things to say, now completely unable, her tongue rasping against the lace and tasting the remnants of her and their juices on the fabric. She hated it. She hated them.

"I'm going to fuck you, Sylvia. I'm going to fuck you and fill you until I get you pregnant. Nod if that sounds good. Shake your head if you can't wait. Do nothing if you need my cock in you right now."

With a groan, Sylvia turned her head to the side and stared at the far wall. She did nothing. She could do nothing.

"The lady's wish is my desire."

She heard him unbuckle his belt. Heard how his trousers were pushed down over his thighs. He spat on her, then his fingers were massaging the saliva into her arousal-swollen folds.

"You're already so wet for me, Sylvia. I feel bad for making you wait."

She wanted to beg him to get on with it. To get it over. Instead, she remained mute, tears welling in her eyes and spilling over as his fingers pinched her clit, rubbed circles around her wet and used hole, as her hips bucked against him and he slid two fingers into her, up to the knuckle. All the while, his other hand tweaked the plug in her arse, pulling, pushing, twisting.

"Still so tight, Sylvi, but we'll change that. I'd have thought all that dragon dick would've loosened you up, or did he only use your arse?" He removed a finger and pushed it against the metal of the plug. It gave, slightly, then he retracted. "I'll use that, too. Or perhaps I'll let Julian have a go." He began pumping his fingers in and out of her.

Against her will, she moaned, huffing. Her eyes rolled back into her head. His other hand gripped her chin and turned her to face him. With a snarl, he demanded, "Open your fucking eyes. Look at me."

She didn't. So he pressed his claws against her inner walls painfully. Her eyes snapped open.

"You're so wet for me, Sylvia. I'm going to put my dick in you now and you're gonna cum for me. Then, when I'm done with you..." He pulled his fingers out of her cunt and began stroking his cock. "Well, we'll see."

He positioned his round, hard and now lubricated head to her slick folds, then shoved into her in a single thrust.

She arched back to the point of pain. She revolted at how pleasure drove through her, mingling with the hate and the fear in a wild cacophony of sensation. Her fisted hands pulled at her collar and she moaned. Because Aron's dick felt good. He was raping her and she was enjoying it. It was enough to make her want to vomit.

And when he began thrusting into her, paying no mind to her comfort or how slow he should go, she felt only more pleasure.

"Ungh, fuck, Sylvi. You're so tight." Aron's hand came down beside her head, his weight supported on it as the other grabbed her breast until she grunted out in pain. At that, he squeezed harder, shoving himself brutally home inside her. "I've missed this little cunt."

The hand on her breast lifted, tugging her collar down so he could grip her throat. He squeezed, cutting off her air supply as he fucked her, until her body cried out for air. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, trying to pull him free but finding she didn't have enough slack in her short chain to do so.

She couldn't even gasp for air. "Don't fight it, little cat." He punctuated the last word with a particularly hard thrust.

Her eyesight dimmed. Her body went slack. Still, Aron squeezed.

She hadn't realised she'd passed out until she regained consciousness to the sensation of his cock ramming in and out of her without relent.

The pain came back. With it, the pleasure. Her muscles tightened, her cunt throbbing on his dick.

"Ugh. Ungh. That's it, my pretty little whore. Grip my cock." As Aron's groans and grunts and moans began to pick up, his stamina unwavering, Sylvianna felt herself driven closer to orgasm. His hands were on her hips now, lifting them from the floor and pulling her onto his thick cock with each thrust. Sweat ran from his brow onto the blouse she still wore. One hand released her, only to begin toying with her clit with determination. "Cum for me, my darling. Please, Sylvi. Milk my cock with your cunt."

It was too much. With the pleading, the perfect pattern of pressure and circling, Sylvianna could no longer fight her growing climax. She came in a violent, shuddering wave, her muscles spasming with urgent need. She flooded around the cock impaling her again and again in rhythm with her convulsing muscles. Her abdomen tightened and her breathing panted out of her in harsh puffs. She pinched her eyes shut, the pleasure so intense for all the release it brought her in this place of horror and fear. She had to fight off unconsciousness again.

Aron gave a loud, relieved moan, his own cock twitching. He thrust again, once, twice. He twisted her clit then returned his hand to her hips. "Fuck!" He slammed into her completely, holding their bodies together as he came, filling her with hot seed that filled and flooded her.

He stayed there for several minutes, collapsing over her, his face buried in her neck. His sharp teeth grazed her flesh as he let out an exhausted, pleasured growl. "Fucking whore," he snarled, suddenly biting, hard enough to draw blood.

She arched her back and moaned as he drank from her, sucking long, heavy mouthfuls that he swallowed down greedily. When he was done, he licked over the wounds, sealing them. "You're my good girl. My little whore. Ugh, fuck." Straightening, he pulled out of her, leaving a wet trail across her leg. "Let's make sure it stays put."

He stood slowly, pulling his underwear and trousers back up and walked around the side of her. She'd briefly glimpsed an array of tools and items on one of the tables by the door, but she hadn't had a good enough look to decipher exactly what they were. When he returned with a plug just like the one in her arse, she wasn't surprised.

Neither was she surprised when he slotted it all too easily into her cunt.

Thinking it was over --

hoping

it was over -- she opened her eyes and looked at the vampire crouching beside her, a satisfied smile on his infuriatingly handsome face. He gave her plugged sex a gentle pat and shook his head. "Keep being a good girl, Sylvia, and I'll keep you for a very long time."

She'd been good. Here she lay in sweet bliss. Her eyes looked unseeingly up at the ceiling.

She'd been good. He wanted to keep her for longer.

He unclipped her ankles from the floor. She would've kicked him but the fight had gone from her. He wanted to keep her for longer.

He picked her up and yet still she didn't fight. Not even when he unceremoniously threw her over a table. She only let out a weak groan of protest. Could it get worse? Was this truly her fate? To be used for pleasure, humiliated for her own?

He forcibly parted her legs, her plugged holes exposed to the room. Her ankles were clipped to the rings at the bottom of the table legs and then Aron came around to the side of her. "So, clever girl, do you know what's going to happen next? You can just nod or shake your head."