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  How far could he take her?

  What would remain of her by the end?

  He was sliding something inside her. It felt as large and long as a well-hung cock but lacked softness. A dildo! Did it vibrate?

  Shit, how much do you know about my secret desires?

  Sweat drenched the small of her back. Her toes dug into the flooring, and she tried to shove herself away from him. He stopped her miniscule movements by pressing his splayed fingers down on her belly. Heeding the inescapable message, she struggled to relax as the invasion continued its way into her, spreading delicate tissues and promising a mastery that excited her on a deep and primitive level. Excited her and terrified her.

  Although she’d never been crazy enough to do it, she’d imagined placing a remote-control bullet in her pussy and wearing it at work. Occasionally triggering vibrations that would bring her dangerously close to coming, and even when it simply rested inside her, she’d be aware of it. That, like the heady fantasy of having a Dom do it for her, had remained a figment of her imagination. Until now.

  Only when she felt a flared base made from the same material cup her labia did she wrench her mind free of her images and focus on the reality. The dildo filled her, commanded her attention, spoke to her of size and mastery and mystery.

  Out of her hands. Everything that was about to happen would be out of her hands. At his control and direction, his. She hadn’t been auctioned and sold, but close, so close.

  What was coming next? She didn’t dare look.

  She bit her lip when she felt something being placed around her hips. Battling the instinct to cry out in protest took incredible effort. Oddly, it also increased her awareness of how turned on she was. Strange how closely related helplessness and the need to be fucked had become.

  She flinched when he snaked what she thought was leather between her legs and fastened the crotch-binding to the hip harness. Securing the crotch restraint against her, he trapped the large dildo inside her. The pussy invader became as much a part of his domination as the wrist restraints. And like the handcuffs and gag, she’d remain wedded to it for as long as he wanted.

  “Back on your knees!”

  Uncertain and trembling, she fought her way off the ground. The intrusion had no give to it, forcing her to modify her movements and position to accommodate its bulk. Again tears threatened to film her eyes. He held something the size of a cell phone. Oh shit, someone, maybe him, had been reading her mind, maybe for years.

  No doubt, fantasy was about to become reality. Her nostrils flared. She locked her eyes on his and felt herself begin to shrink, becoming less. At the same time, anticipation gripped her.

  “High tech,” he informed her. “On the Earth you’ve spent your life on so far, vibrators are run by batteries or electricity, but here we’ve designed toys run by solar energy.”

  Not on Earth? Where are we? Does it matter?

  “Solar energy outperforms batteries hands down. Let me demonstrate.” He pushed something on the object in his hand.

  Asia immediately felt movement in her pussy. The object was rapidly swelling and contracting. No longer rigid, it began flexing as if multi-hinged. A cock, one hell of a cock! One hell of an improvement on the standard model vibrator, too. “Mmmm,” she mumbled.

  “Just getting started.” He let her see him push again. The vibrations stepped up a notch. Moaning again, she straightened and tried to distance herself from the sensation. But of course she couldn’t. And didn’t really want to. Another push resulted in vibrations so intense she could no longer think of anything else. Frantic to anticipate the pulsations, she began rocking back and forth. Oh God, oh God!

  “It gets better, much better. Although you might not agree with that particular word.”

  The internal gyrations ignited tissues both in and around her pussy. Movement radiated out to her belly, hips, thighs, even her heart. Each vibration prompted a short-circuited reaction in her clit, almost as if she was being assaulted by electrical currents. Because she couldn’t jerk free, she endured, felt, experienced.

  Although she’d wondered what losing her sanity via sexual stimulation would feel like, she’d never let a man take the lead. She’d always been an equal partner when it came to foreplay and intercourse. Not an object. Not helpless. She’d only dreamed. Pretended.

  Zemar changed everything. As effortlessly as he controlled the incredible power locked inside her, he controlled her nerves and flesh and robbed her of intellect. For a brief and confusing moment, he stopped all movement, and she panted out her attempt to manage her body’s reactions. Surely she could weather this! Surely she controlled her system, not him!

  Then he added heat and rolling waves that forced her head back and her legs wide. Holy shit! Sweat ran between her breasts. Her nipples tightened and clamped. She felt the same relentless tension in her cunt. No escape. No relief.

  Torture. Ecstasy.

  Her eyes bulged, and although she hated herself for it, she couldn’t stop from shooting him a desperate plea for relief. He ignored her stare and hit yet more buttons. The invader became hotter, the waves more intense. At the same time it pulsed, promised, demanded. She rode out the fantastic assault. She felt no pain. Instead of fear, her overloaded system bellowed in anticipation.

  Go, go, go! Oh shit, please, now!

  Kneeling tied and mute, stripped naked in a room with no way out, ripped from her life and world, sweating and gasping, under a determined and relentless man’s control, she raced up a mountain and stood ready to catapult into space. She had no parachute and didn’t give a damn. A chasm yawned.

  She fell into it, fell and fell and fell. He continued the assault, even kicking it up until she felt as if she was at the epicenter of an earthquake. The tremors went on and on. She heard herself scream. The gag muffled much of the sound and shoved it back down her throat. The trapped scream helped fuel the explosion and kept it going.

  A rollercoaster. No brakes. No end. Nerves firing and misfiring.

  Stop! Please stop! She started screaming but only useless grunts and sobs tore at the air. The instrument of torture and delight continued to work her. Even the base was in motion. She dimly acknowledged something hard like rubber clamped around her clit.

  Can’t take -- oh shit! Can’t take any more!

  Yes, you can. You have no choice, a voice in her head insisted. Heat licked at her flesh. She wondered if she might catch fire. Maybe she was already burning.

  Heated waves rolled over her, tossing her higher and higher. Suddenly and deeply terrified, she rode the relentless surges. Too much! Too much.

  “Enough?”

  Yes, yes, yes!

  “For now anyway.”

  The instrument of her undoing started to quiet, brakes being applied. She loved sex, loved the sweet, hot feeling that accompanied a climax. But this had been -- been what?

  Not been. It still was.

  She was being brought down slow, her system returning to her bit by bit and yet changed. She felt her tingling toes and fingers. Her clenched jaw ached. Her belly remained knotted and electrical charges nibbled at her thighs. Her pussy sobbed, sex-tears drenching the dildo and flowing out to slick her legs.

  “Live in the moment, slave. Don’t try to be anything else.”

  No choice. No choice. Still melting. Finally, thankfully, all movement stopped. Thank you. Holy shit, thank you.

  Weak as a newborn, she slumped over her knees. If she’d dared, she would have collapsed onto her side. But she had to remain alert, try to anticipate. Relief might not last.

  “A lesson,” he said. “A hard one but far from the last. When I said you belong to me, this is what I meant. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll do whatever your master wants.” He cocked his head as if waiting for her to agree. “As for whether, when, or under what circumstances you’ll be granted another ride like this one or even a fraction thereof, that’s up to your master. You’ll have to earn it.”

  My master? E
arn? How?

  “You’re a strong woman. Healthy. That’s good because you’re going to need all your strength to get through this. Now, stand up.”

  Her muscles didn’t know how to respond, and her brain -- what had happened to her ability to think?

  “Stand!”

  Her pussy spasmed.

  He’d shocked her -- or something close to it.

  Teeth clamped down on the wood secured in her mouth, she struggled to obey. Because she couldn’t use her hands, the first time, she lost her balance and fell onto her side. The dildo filled her, moved with her. Until he removed it, it would follow her everywhere. Demonstrating his lack of sympathy, he lightly shocked her again and followed up with short, jerky vibrations.

  Mumbling, she managed to do as he commanded. But even so, moderate vibrations continued. Now that she’d had a respite in which to put things into perspective, she couldn’t deny that the protracted climax had been the most incredible experience of her life. If she could market this magical toy, she’d be a wealthy woman -- unless it killed those who used it. Despite her fear of its power, did she want him to remove it? Not that she had any say in the matter.

  He laid the remote on the floor. A green light flashed in time with the random vibrations. She struggled to count them, to find a pattern, couldn’t. Neither could she move. He stepped to her side and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, letting her know she could lean against him. She did. His strength now supported her, his arm and side sheltering her. His lips brushed her sweaty forehead.

  “What was it, slave? Torture?”

  Wanting to be honest for him, she shook her head.

  “Something you’ve always wanted?”

  Although she’d never imagined a climax could all but shatter her, she nodded.

  “Then you’re thanking me?”

  Another nod.

  He kissed her again and his arm kept her safe. The pussy vibrations continued.

  Chapter Eight

  Asia lay curled up in the dark with a blanket over her, listening to her heart beat. Zemar had carried her outside and removed the vibrator before ordering her to squat and relieve herself. The contrast between being cradled in his arms and then having to pee while he watched was so confusing. Did he see her as a human being, a woman, or simply a subject to be worked with?

  Then he’d returned her to the prison, slid the vibrator back in place, and ordered her onto her knees. Once she’d positioned herself to his liking, he’d freed her hands and placed a plate of strange-looking food on the floor next to her. At his command, she’d eaten the cold, tasteless concoction. When she was done, he’d handcuffed her wrists in front and connected that to her pussy harness. He finished her confinement by chaining one foot to a ring in the floor. Just before leaving, he’d tossed the blanket at her.

  The door had slammed behind him.

  Despite her discomfort, she’d fallen asleep and had dozed off and on through the rest of the day, making her wonder if he’d drugged her. When she woke up, it was night.

  Alone.

  But not really, she amended as the vibrator made its presence known. It rested unmoving but large and full of potential inside her, and she wondered if he might be able to trigger it from wherever he’d gone.

  He’d return. He had to! Otherwise, she’d starve in here. Starve with a full-to-bursting cunt.

  The rubber under her had almost no give to it, and without use of her hands, she couldn’t make a pillow out of them. She supposed she should be grateful because he’d removed her gag, but she was still uncomfortable, so rolled over onto her back so she could rest her head on the flooring. He’d positioned her hands over her belly, the bonds preventing her from reaching her crotch.

  Not that she wanted to of course. Not that mentally reliving what he’d subjected her to via the supercharged vibrator was making her horny all over again.

  Liar.

  How tame her fantasy of being a sex slave had been! How naïve. In contrast, the real thing had just about taken off the top of her head.

  Sex slave? Her exploration of the lifestyle had led her to believe that everything was about pleasing the master, but so far Zemar had simply lived with his hard-on. Would that continue or would he eventually fuck her?

  Did she want him that close? Did she have any choice?

  Her pussy clenched, and she pictured her muscles clamping down around the unshakable invasion that served in his cock’s stead. Even silent, it commanded so much of her attention.

  But not all.

  Despite what she’d mentally called him, there were differences between Zemar and Tarzan. If there really had been a boy raised by apes, he would have grown up ignorant and uncivilized. He’d smell like a gorilla and fuck like an ape, things she didn’t want to think about. He’d have fleas and unashamedly scratch his armpits and crotch. A stranger to a toothpaste, he might have a mouth full of cavities, if he still had his teeth. His speech, well, he certainly wouldn’t be speaking fluid English, would he? And he wouldn’t have a single, solitary clue about what human females wanted and didn’t want.

  Zemar knew.

  Staring at the ceiling she couldn’t see, Asia pulled her memories around her. Because she’d been incapable of thinking past sexual stimulation, she didn’t know what Zemar’s expression had been as he manipulated the remote. She hated thinking that he’d been clinical and distant, a pro objectively studying his subject’s reactions and responses and taking mental notes for her files. His erection, damn it, his erection said something, didn’t it? But maybe his response had been nothing more than an unimportant byproduct of a necessary procedure in her training.

  What about when he’d let her rest against him, when he’d kissed her head? Carried her.

  She had no intention of letting him know, of course, but in many respects after what he’d treated her to today, she could die happy.

  Die? Her heart hammered. If he didn’t come back, she would.

  Telling herself that her dependence on him was mind-play on his part did little to return her heart rate to a normal pace. They were, after all, playing in his ballpark and by his rules. And if she broke one, even one she didn’t know about, there could be hell to pay.

  So she’d have to do whatever it took to please him in order to come out of this sane and alive. But how? What, really, did he want from her? How far was she capable of going to give it to him? And what would be left of her?

  * * * * *

  She was walking in the middle of a line of naked, silenced, and handcuffed women. Ropes from one neck collar to the next kept them in a single file procession. She couldn’t be sure where they were being led, but it seemed to be a large tent. A hooded man held the tent flap open and as each woman disappeared into the enclosure, she became more and more unnerved.

  Finally her turn came. When she was inside, she stopped and tried to look around, but someone yanked on her neck rope, propelling her forward. She was being led to a platform already crowded with her fellow captives.

  No, not captives. Each woman wore a sign between her breasts, which identified her as a slave and included a number. Reading upside down, she discovered that she was number thirteen.

  “A fine batch this time,” a male voice announced as she trudged up the stairs. “A real herd. There’s a lot of bidding ahead of us, so let’s get started, gentlemen.”

  For the first time, she noticed that the platform was ringed by folding metal chairs, all occupied by men. Some wore suits and ties while others looked as if they’d just gotten off construction jobs. Many puffed on fat cigars.

  As each slave’s moment in the limelight came, she stood with her head downcast. Despite the slaves’ subservient postures, their nipples were erect and juice ran down their inner thighs. The auctioneer used their arousal to tease their potential masters to increase their bids. Once a slave had been purchased, she immediately passed through some kind of gauzy curtain and disappeared. As if she’d been sucked out of existence.

  Th
en it was her turn. Although she was already standing on the red X in the middle of the platform, the auctioneer prodded her ass with a short, thick stick. “A fine one here, gentlemen. A little over-educated for her new career, but eager to learn. She’s wanted to become a sex slave for many years but kept taking the wrong classes.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Fortunately, none other than our own Zemar became both her advisory counselor and instructor. As a result of his dedication, she’s ready to be of service. Zemar has assured me that there’s nothing about the lifestyle we all love and enjoy she isn’t willing to embrace. She can hardly wait to begin her new career, can you, slave?” He punctuated his question by prodding her ass again.

  Because she had a gag in her mouth, Asia couldn’t answer. But she knew how to demonstrate her enthusiasm. Head high and shoulders back, she turned in a slow circle as if she was a model showing off the latest Paris fashions. She smiled behind her gag, tossed her hair, batted her eyes, and spread her legs to give her potential new owner a clear view of her sex. At the same time, she did a little bump and grind. Much to everyone’s delight.

  ”What can I say, owners? A real prize. Let’s begin the bidding at a hundred grand.”

  Men kept yelling, but Asia couldn’t understand what they were saying. Her body was a product, merchandise she was committed to marketing. And as a former advertising specialist, she knew how to present to the public. She’d begun thrusting her pelvis at the crowd when someone bellowed, “Ten million dollars.”

  Open mouthed, she stared down at her audience. Zemar, naked as she was, stood on his chair. He smiled.

  Chapter Nine

  “Time for part two of your education. Outside.”

  Desperate to demonstrate her compliance, Asia opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t. He’d regagged her. At least he’d allowed her to eat more of the tasteless food and drink a glass of water before putting yesterday’s contraption back in her mouth and securing her arms with the metal restraints. When he’d first come in, he’d positioned a bucket near her and removed the vibrator that now felt as if it was a part of her, so she could go to the bathroom. He hadn’t asked about her night, and of course she hadn’t brought up his. Something about the way he carried himself, less wary and tense, made her think he’d found his own sexual release. Did he have a wife, a significant other? Maybe his own compliant and well-trained slave. No! Don’t think about that.