Tricked

She’d texted freely with “Diana” about her past sexual experience (limited but with a nice dash of kink) and her masturbatory fantasies. She had been both titillated and horrified when “Diana” had shared her own fantasy of being abducted and held by a handsome but exacting Master—kept naked and in chains, forced to do all sorts of wonderful, terrible things.

He’d have bet a hundred to one that, despite her feeble protestations that she would never actually want to be abducted in real life, her panties had been soaked by “Diana’s” detailed descriptions. Behind the innocent façade, she was a dirty little whore, just like all the rest.

He couldn’t wait to get started with her training. She belonged to him now. He would use and abuse her in whatever way pleased him, for as long as he wanted, and she didn’t have a fucking thing to say about it. And when he tired of her, as he surely would, eventually, there was always an after-market for whores. He’d sell her to the highest bidder for a tidy profit. His brothers weren’t the only entrepreneurs in the family.

As he stared down at the inert girl—naked, chained and at his mercy, he wanted to crow his success to the world. Wouldn’t his father and brothers be impressed if they knew what he, Damon-the-fuck-up, Damon-the-baby-of-the-family, who’d never done anything with his life, had managed, all on his own? Not that he could ever tell them. They were so conventional and judgmental. Besides, he didn’t need to impress them—not anymore. He had access to his trust fund, finally, and he was accountable to no one.

Now he slapped Callie’s cheek lightly to rouse her. She groaned softly, but didn’t open her eyes. This was getting annoying. Here he’d been patiently waiting several hours for his new toy to come to and—wham—she was back out again.

The medications should have worn off sufficiently, as evidenced by her brief period of consciousness. What he was seeing now was just a plain old fainting fit.

He considered filling a bucket of water from the sink in the corner of the concrete-walled basement. If she didn’t come to in a minute or two, he could dump it over her head. But, no, he decided magnanimously. He would give her a break.

He still couldn’t quite believe he’d pulled it off, and without a hitch. Who said he wasn’t organized and couldn’t follow through? He just had to have the right motivation.

There had been a few difficult moments, such as when he had to carry her up the plane stairs in the dark. While he could bench press two hundred and fifty without breaking a sweat, carrying the deadweight of an unconscious woman up a flight of narrow stairs wasn’t as easy as he’d expected. Though the tiny airport was basically deserted, he hadn’t wanted to risk turning on any lights in the hangar until he had her safely ensconced inside the plane. He’d settled her over two seats, just behind the small cockpit, before heading inside the terminal to check in with the dispatcher.

When she’d started to stir about an hour before landing, he’d given her the second injection. She’d slipped back into unconsciousness with a soft sigh.

Once he’d landed and parked the plane, he’d experienced a moment of panic. The van the used car salesman had assured him would be waiting in the nearby parking lot was nowhere in sight. He finally found it parked along a narrow street just beside the lot, the keys hidden in a magnetic holder under the dash, as promised. Fortunately, it was nearly three a.m. by then, and no one was around to witness the transfer of the unconscious girl from his plane to the back of the van.

He’d given Callie a third and final injection before hauling her into the house. Fortunately, there was a separate entrance into the basement, so he didn’t have to navigate any more stairs with an inert woman in his arms.

Not up for hassling with her clothing, he’d cut it away before shackling her to the cot. It was a testament to how exhausted he’d been that he hadn’t stuck around to check her body out more thoroughly. Plenty of time for that later.

He’d gone upstairs to catch a few hours of sleep until she roused. Despite his fatigue, he’d only managed to doze fitfully. Now he reached into his shorts to stroke his rising erection as he regarded the lovely girl, naked and shackled before him.

Her breasts were a little small for his taste, but nicely shaped, the nipples exactly the rosy pink color he’d envisioned. Her legs were spread by the chains at her ankle cuffs, giving him a peek at her pretty little cunt, which was covered in sparse pubes. He would make her shave that nasty hair off. He liked his girls smooth, like the sluts on the porn sites.