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  “Let's see what you have lower, shall we?” Carlos yanked her shoes and socks away easily. Clark had never bothered to button her back up, so it was a simple enough matter for Carlos to pull her pants down, over her hips, lower and lower, slowly, as if to prolong the humiliation. The pants were tight, once, before everything had gone to Hell. Now they slid off easily in his hands.

  He thrust his big hand between her legs, over her underwear. “So hot down here. And your undies are soaked through, chica.” She heard him take a deep breath as he buried his face between her legs. “Your scent is intoxicating. Oh I'll have so much fun with you,” he promised.

  Slowly he pulled her underwear down as well, and she was nude in front of him. She felt goose pimples rise along her skin as a cool breeze ran through the room. Her nipples, cold, stood hard at attention. The man before her could see every intimate inch of her body, yet she had no idea what he looked like. All she could respond to was his voice, his smell, his touch. The darkest corners of her mind, which seemed to be the ones in control of her body now, thrilled at this fear.

  She could feel him walking a slow circle around her. His hand would reach out, trailing along her skin as he did so. He would grab at her mound, massage it for a few moments, then wander away, leaving her wanting more. He would wander behind, grasping at her butt cheek, squeezing it too. He slipped his hand between her cheeks and felt at her rear, probing.

  “Everything seems perfect, chica. Only your face, which I will keep covered. You need not know me until I decide if we shall keep you.”

  She couldn't keep quiet at that. “But we have a deal!” she exclaimed.

  “Oh yes, you are free to leave at any time. But we too have a part of the deal. If you do not please me, then I will send you away. And my tastes are somewhat,” she could literally hear him licking his lips. “unconventional.”

  He slapped his hand against her rear, hard. She squealed out in pain and surprise. He laughed darkly. “Ah that's right. I love watching that tight ass jiggle for me.” He slammed his hand against her again, even harder, on the other cheek. Slowly he began to rub the cheek, where he had hit it.

  But he had only just begun. Again he slapped his hand against the first cheek, harder still. Then back to the first. She yelped and jerked each time, though soft moans happened in between. After each of the harder slaps, he would rub and massage her cheek, easing the pain away.

  “Oh yes, you like that, chica. I can tell. I can smell your scent growing.” He spanked her again, her body jerking once more with the hard slap. His hits were becoming louder, harder. He cupped his hand to make the sound and the pain more intense.

  “Just perfect, chica. You love the pain as much as I love giving it.” His hand slipped between her lips, slowly rubbing circles against her clit. He was right, she could feel it engorged. She was trapped, pain on one side, pleasure on the other. His assault on her rear did not stop.

  “Every time I take you, I will hurt you, just like this. Maybe worse.” Slap, he smashed his hand into her. His massaging increased in intensity. She felt the heat moving down her body, tingling growing between her legs. “Nothing to maim you permanently, understand. But I will mark you. I may have to share you, but all my boys will know that you truly belong to me.”

  She moaned in protest as his hands slipped out of her slit. She could hear the very distinctive sound of his pants being unbuckled. She thought that then he would be pulling himself out, and slipping inside of her.

  He had other plans.

  That was when she realized the sound was his belt being pulled from it's loops. She felt him pop the belt, making a sharp sound. She began to try and wiggle away, but her toes could only barely touch the ground. She couldn't run. She couldn't stop him. The only thing she could do was to cry out to be let go, and lose her whole hope for being with his crew. She couldn't do that.

  He knew it.

  She could hear it in his voice. He was sadistic, he wanted to see her writhe in pain. She knew that he was not above taking a woman without her consent, but he seemed even more aroused to know that she agreed to this. He was going to see how far he could push her, what he could do to force her to make him stop.

  She resolved herself that she would take whatever he did. Anything. Her body clearly wanted it, even if her mind was scared of what scars it would leave. She could take the pain. She'd survived this wasteland for months, she could survive this. Hell, she'd learn to love it, just to show him.

  The first crack of the belt against her bottom caused a shriek. He laughed sadistically. The second one was even harder against her already raw cheek. He slipped his fingers in between her nether lips, parting it and continuing to massage her clit.

  He did not stick with a specific pattern. No, he enjoyed the randomness of slapping the belt against her. She could feel welts rising along her rear. At least he was not using the buckle, she told herself.

  He was skilled with his hands. She was surprised to find the pleasure was winning out over the pain, despite it's constant whipping into her rear. Though the belt was more painful than his hands, she was feeling better, the tingling below increasing her excitement.

  “You belong to me, chica,” he promised, his voice low, dark and possessive. With that he began to pinch her clit, something she never would have requested, but it sent her over the edge. The pain, the pleasure, it was too much. She exploded with a cry, her juices tearing from her, running down the legs, as he pinched, released, and pinched again, repeatedly slashing the belt against her rear.

  When she had finished screaming, she fell limp against the rope that held her aloft. She felt him move away, the laughter of a man who'd just won escaping her lips.

  “You are indeed quite a find. Now it's my turn.” She heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper being loosed, and his pants hitting the floor. Once again he began to stalk her, walking in a slow circle. His hands traced some of the welts that covered her rear.

  “My mark. Now you will not be able to sit comfortably. Every time you try to sit, you will think of me, and what I am doing to you. And you will know that whatever pain I visit upon you, it's because you allowed it.” She could hear him stroking himself. He pushed the head of his cock against her over engorged clit.

  She trembled at his touch. He thought he had pulled one over on her, but she was more around than she'd been in her entire life. Her orgasm was the most intense she'd ever felt. When he began to slide the head against her clit, she responded with a second and third orgasm, just by his touch.

  “Perfect, chica. Perfect. I knew you wanted it, you little slut.” He lifted her legs at the knees, spreading her slit wide. He slowly ran himself down her full length. His head was fat, already dripping with his juices or hers, she couldn't tell. He paused at her entrance.

  “I'm rather large. This will hurt,” he said, and slammed himself in, without further preamble.

  She screamed again. Unlike most men, he was not lying about his dick size. His length was above average but the girth, the girth was just insane. She felt herself stretching painfully to accommodate him. He, again, loved the pain.

  “Oh yes chica. You are so tight. Well, all girls are tight with me. I'm going to hollow you out, ruin you for any other man,” he promised, rocking himself back and forth while buried deep inside. He was widening her, working on her own elasticity to make himself enough room. Finally, satisfied, he pulled himself back out, using her legs to lift her as well.

  He dropped her again, slamming his fat dick all the way to the hilt, his balls slamming into her rear. He began to murmur encouragement to her in Spanish, though she could not understand a word.

  Again he lifted her, again he let gravity smash her down into him. Over and over he did this, she was in fact widening just enough to let his massiveness slam in.

  Finally he pulled himself out. “Ah chica, I want it all at once,” he cried, walking around to her back. “I want to see my handiwork.”

  He pulled apart her sore butt
cheeks and slammed himself back inside of her. It was tight, too tight. She cried out in pain, but he either did not notice or care. She believed it to be the latter when she felt the belt slam into her rear.

  Again she screamed, but this time not all in pain. The dick, deep inside and smashing into her, her already engorged clit, it was so much for her that she couldn't tell where pain ended and pleasure began. Her body reacted to both. Her canal tightened around him.

  This drove him mad. He kept at the belt, furiously whipping her, moving upwards in his excitement. She trembled, her thighs shaking, her body red with pain and embarrassment and lust. He was losing control, the strikes moving higher and higher along her back. She could feel the welts rising already, and fluid beginning to run down from the strikes. Sweat? Blood? She didn't know. It didn't matter. She was exploding.

  What was it about being used, being helpless, that excited her so? She pushed the dark thought aside and let her body go, tightening around his massive girth, squeezing him with all that she had. Her juices exploded, most trapped inside due to his pistoning dick, some escaping to pour down her thighs and his balls.

  That was when he lost his own rhythm, thrusting savagely, stabbing her with his dick. Once, twice, and finally he exploded, a fierce yell escaping his throat along with a long string of Spanish words that she could not understand. His seed coated deep inside, splattering to her womb, wave after wave of hot, thick juice penetrating to her innermost parts.

  Spent, he stood there for a long moment, laying his head against her back. He reached forward and grabbed one of her nipples, twisting it possessively, triggering another small orgasm from her body. He thrust once more, then slowly pulled himself out of her.

  She stay dangling, juices pouring from her nude form, her rear and back no doubt crisscrossed by his brutal spanking. She heard him adjusting himself, no doubt cleaning up and dressing.

  Finally he came up behind her, examining his handiwork. “Ah, so beautiful. I love seeing your beautiful skin broken because of me.” That was when she felt him run a damn cloth over her welts, over her aching rear, between her legs. He took his time cleaning her up, making sure that she was even cleaner than when he'd first seen her. Then he took a cold salve and began to press it into the welts.

  “As I said, chica, I'll not damage you permanently. This will help you to heal.”

  When he was finished, she heard him open the door.

  “Wait!” She called afterward, through the bag. “Wait, won't you let me down? Please, my arms are beginning to hurt.”

  He had not changed, despite the gentleness at the end. “Sorry, chica. There are a lot of men here, and you have to serve all of them. You need to experience how helpless you truly are.”

  She heard him closing the door, leaving her alone, nude, and danging from the ceiling.

  Promises of Cruelty

  Dangerous Company #3

  by

  Claudia Balvenie

  Cover Art by

  eskymaks

  Copyright 2014.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

  CHAPTER 1

  Gwen had fallen asleep while still dangling by her wrists. Perhaps later she would question how exhausted Carlos, the gang leader, had made her that she could rest during such an ordeal.

  She'd been surviving the apocalypse, but it hadn't been easy. The first crew she'd taken up with had been gentle enough. It was their downfall. The second fought, but they too were overrun. When Ed and Clark came upon her in her hotel room, they seemed like the type of men who would take her and then feed her to the undead.

  Fortunately, that wasn't the case.

  Not that her situation was much better now, mind you. She was nude, dangling from a rope suspended from the ceiling. Her toes could touch the floor, barely. She would switch between each to relieve some of the pain in her arms, though at this point everything was painful. Worst of all, she still had a thick canvas bag over her head, the same one that Ed and Clark and insisted she wear, if she were to join them at their hideout.

  Since their fateful meeting, she'd been bound and led across the countryside, suspended in mid air, stripped, and taken by the leader of their dangerous company, Carlos. Yet even now, though not another stitch of clothing covered her body, she still had the bag over her head. She had no idea what any of her newest gang looked like.

  And the ironic part was, she'd asked for all of it.

  Each one of the three had asked her, more than once, if this was really what she wanted. They'd promised her that if she ever thought they went too far, they would untie her and give her enough necessities for a week or so in the wilderness. They would let her go free.

  It was unspoken that the world had become a much harsher place since the fall. Zombie hordes still roamed the countryside, devouring any human they could get their hands on. Though they, and she, had taken out more than their fair share, more still were made. No doubt the gang believed that she'd never survive on her own. She, of course, knew better.

  So while the protection the men offered was nice, it was not the reason she'd agreed to this cruel promise. No, the truth was that she craved the depravity. She wanted to be taken, to be used roughly, to be no more than a possession. She wanted these men, no matter how many and how desperate they were, because they were hardened. They were survivors. They knew exactly what and how to take her, even if she did not know herself.

  They needed her. She needed them. She had no intention of ever saying no.

  And so, even tied up, a bag over her head, she felt safer than she had in months.

  CHAPTER 2

  The heavy old door screeched in the room, kicking up dust. She heard a pair of heavy, determined footsteps enter.

  She felt the breeze play across her nude form as she waited for her visitor to speak. She knew he was close, she could feel his heat. Still, he made no noise. She wondered if he was just staring at her.

  Suddenly there was a heaving sound. A bucket of water had been heaved onto her dangling form, the force of the water causing her to sway and sputter. Deep laughter echoed after.

  “You're rather dirty, girlie,” said a familiar voice. “Boss did a real number on ya.” She could hear Clark pace around her body. He reached out and ran a finger down the welts that crossed her back. His voice was an odd mixture of concern and lust.

  “You want out? Just say the word.”

  Under the hood, she shook her head. Her voice was confident. “Nothing I can't handle. Was kinda fun, really.”

  He laughed then and patted her on the rump playfully. “Alright then. Should've known you could take it. You're a tough broad.”

  She turned her hooded head towards him. “Still, there is something you can do for me.”

  She heard him set down the bucket. “What's that, then?”

  She nodded her head upwards. “I'm awfully sore. Think you could lower me down? Promise I won't run away,” she added, chuckling. She wondered if he was aware of the irony of her being bound, despite their pact to let her go if she ever asked for it.

  He didn't say anything for a long moment. She wondered if this was a command that Carlos had given, to keep her up like this. Finally she felt the wind of his body passing her. She heard the door shut. For a long moment, she wondered if he'd just left.

  Then she felt herself slowly being lowered to the ground. She was finally flat footed on the concrete, but when the rope slackened more, her legs began to tremble, unable to support her weight. She began to fall forward.

  And then, suddenly, Clark was there, catching her from smashing into the ground. As she fell into his arms, her own still bound in front of her, the both paused for a long moment. Suddenly she felt the hood yanked from her head.

  Clark stared at her, lust burning deeply in his eyes. His dark, stringy hair fell forward, masking some of his face. He was strong, she'd forg
otten how much since their first meeting. If he wished to overpower her, he could easily.

  She hoped he would.

  Slowly he lowered his head, his eyes still locked on hers. He lay his lips around he small nipple, capping her large breast. He took as much of it in as he could, sucking, tickling with his tongue. She arched her back, allowing him better access.

  She felt his teeth graze against her nipple, only stopping when he hardened nub was captured between both of his teeth. A moan escaped her lips. A smile crossed his.