Inside The Vault Bundle: (Billionaire Alpha Male, Post Apocalyptic BDSM) Read online

  “Yes, he asked me to fetch his food.”

  The man harrumphed. “Not quite ready yet. I'll bring it on up when I'm done, alright?”

  Her mind raced. That was not what he had said to do. “My Master said that I was to fetch the food.” She said, simply.

  A smirk touched his lips at the word “Master.” She could see his eyes going once more to her cleavage. He picked the knife back up and began to work again.

  “I will take the blame for the meal not being ready. Your 'Master' will not need to take it out on you.” He chuckled lightly and tossed the veggies into a pot. She turned to go, his eyes still leering.

  “Boss man got real lucky you showed up when you did, girlie.” He laughed darkly. She felt the blush creeping across her skin.

  On the walk back to his study, she heard a low whistle from one of the rooms she passed. She turned and saw her master's other man standing nearby. He held a dirty mop in his hand, leaning on it heavily.

  “Damn, girl. Boss man got a sweet piece of tail this time.”

  “This time?” She asked, turning towards him. He was tall and lean, but filthy from having been cleaning the vault. He smelled like ammonia.

  He reached out and pinched her ass, hard. She yelped away, indigently. He laughed and began to whistle, mopping the floor again.

  Once she was out of eye shot, she shuddered. These men, they were just as lascivious as her Master. And they might very well be the last people on Earth.

  CHAPTER 4

  Her Master was engrossed in the monitor when she walked back in. At the door closing, he turned to her.

  “Great news!” he exclaimed. “We are not the last people left!”

  Relief washed over her body. “How do you know? I thought the internet was down?”

  So lost was he in his discovery, he did not bother to reprimand her for questioning him. He gestured to his screen.

  “Yes, the main providers are down, I can't simply log on to my ISP and go about my business. But we had ways to communicate before, and we still do now.”

  He was barely even thinking, he just grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to him. He cupped her rear with both of his hands.

  “We may make it out of this yet, buttercup.” He ground himself against her savagely, then jerked her around, bending her over the desk. In one smooth motion he jerked her panties down to her knees. He quickly freed his massive dick, hard once again and slammed it home, deep inside her pussy.

  She shrieked and he growled in pleasure. He knew how big he was, he did not care that her body wasn't equipped for such a huge cock. No, tearing her in two was exactly what he wanted. She was just fortunate that it was also what she wanted. She was still dripping and aching for his touch.

  But she was nothing to him, merely a device that he could slam himself into as often as he pleased. That shouldn't excite her, but it did. She wanted to know what truly went on inside a man's mind. She had often fantasized about being taken against her will, or while sleeping. It was a strange sort of desire, to want to see what a man would or could do when not restrained by law nor propriety. What would he do when her pleasure meant nothing to him?

  It was not that she did not enjoy it, in fact she could feel her orgasm building with each thrust inside. His balls were slamming into her clit, stimulating her, urging her towards release. He moaned as he banged inside of her, intensely slamming inside until finally, once more, he released inside her unprotected womb.

  She closed her eyes again, years of being so careful with protection and now she was simply letting a man she'd just met fill her with his seed. Add to the fact that he swore he could climax ten or more times a day, and she knew that it was only a matter of time until her stomach swelled. He seemed unconcerned about this fact.

  She pushed herself up on her elbows, trying to stand. He was still buried deep inside, his hardness barely diminished.

  “Where are you going?” He asked. He slowly moved his dick back and forth inside her, rocking her, trying to widen it further.

  “I just, thought...” She began, searching for words.

  “Oh no, I'm not finished with you.” He slowly began to work his way out to the tip, then slowly push himself back in.

  Then he began to explain what he'd been working on.

  It seemed that, though there was no internet service to the Vault itself, the pipes were still laying, and in many places unbroken. He explained something about packets, and how they could be rerouted, as long as they did not reach their time to die. He kept talking, though she was no computer whiz. He seemed to enjoy instructing her on exactly what he did and how he did it.

  He'd reached a couple of his friends who still knew how to communicate. One was in his own fallout shelter, and the other lived far out in the middle of Montana. He could reach no one outside of the U.S.

  He kept up his slow pumping inside of her, almost absentmindedly as he spoke. His dick was moving in and out of her, while his mind was somewhere far away.

  “Then who attacked us, or was it even an attack?” She asked trying to ignore the feeling of his balls against her clit. His slow movements ground deep inside of her, stimulating her even more.

  “That's the thing, no one I've found has any clue.” She couldn't help it, his motions against her clit, the feeling of being used for nothing more than his pleasure, it was sending her over the edge. She tried to stop it, she didn't want to distract him. She really did want to know what was going on. She came anyway.

  “For all we know, it could be extraterrestrial...” He stopped at the feeling of her canal writing around his dick. He laughed slightly and slapped her already sore rear. “Well now, that's a nice surprise.”

  A slow moan escaped her lips, as his movements kept urging her on to another orgasm. He chuckled, and then suddenly, again, was distracted.

  “Wait, where is my food?” He asked, anger touching his voice.

  “I... your man said he would bring it when it was done? He said that you would be alright with that?”

  She heard him jerk the crop from the desk. It slammed into her already sore rear.

  “I gave you a command! You are to obey! That is what you committed to!”

  She cried out in pain, but for some reason, the pain only made the excitement at her clit even greater. She came again, even harder.

  Over and over he brought the crop down on her ass, his rhythm increasing inside her. She couldn't help it, wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her body.

  That's when the door opened.

  CHAPTER 5

  Lana barely could register what was happening, she was so far gone into her own pleasure. The cook had entered, laying a silver covered platter on the desk next to where she was being violently fucked and whipped.

  “Sorry, boss, had some trouble with the generator. Did she piss you off?” He asked, gesturing to the riding crop that kept slamming into her ass with no signs of stopping.

  “You told her to come back?” Her Master asked, through gritted teeth.

  He shrugged. “Thought you'd appreciate a chance to punish her.”

  She expected the cook to leave, but instead, he simply watched the proceedings. She was bent over his desk, her legs pushed tightly together. His enormous cock was pistoning in and out of her, his heavy balls crashing into her clit. Finally, her Master spoke up.

  “You getting in on this?”

  The cook mulled it over for a moment. “Don't mind if I do!” He laughed cruelly and walked to the front of the desk. He unzipped his own pants, and pulled out his dick.

  It was nowhere near as big as her Master's, but it was fat in it's own right. It was uncut, something she rarely saw. It was purple and engorged, already dripping with precum. He slowly ran his hand up and down it a couple times.

  “Like what you see, girl? Bossman always lets me have a taste of his girls...” This too, stuck out to her, as something she should be piecing together. Something about the whole situation seemed off. But then he stuffed hi
s fat cock into her mouth, and she didn't have time to think anymore.

  Behind her, her Master kept going with incredible stamina. A man who was not in shape could not have kept up such a pace, not for so long. Why the explosions had only occurred a few hours ago, and how many times had he released? Five? Six? It all blurred together. All she knew is if she was ovulating, she was pregnant for sure.

  She held herself up with both hands as the cook tangled his fingers into her hair. He groaned in pleasure, giving her the attention that her Master saw fit to withhold. He moaned and groaned and slammed inside her mouth. His dick was big enough to reach the back of her throat, but that placed his balls right on her chin. She was full to the brim.

  But her Master had not forgotten to punish her. Over and over the crop slammed into her rear, causing her to jerk away in surprise. The cook instead held her face tightly so she couldn't move, face fucking her as hard as possible.

  That was when she smelled it, the sharp ammonia smell. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the janitor had joined the party, his own dick in his hand.

  She didn't get a chance to look at it, for the cook had chosen that exact moment to explode down her throat. His juices came out in a huge glob, coating her esophagus. Finished, he pulled out, his fat dick leaving a trail of her saliva down her chin.

  As he moved to the side to wipe himself up, the filthy janitor took his place.

  His dick was tall and thin, just like he was, but harder than any she'd ever felt. It was harder even than her Master, who kept plunging into her, unceasingly. Occasionally she too would spasm and release around him, and he would chuckle darkly above her.

  But it was the janitor who had her attention now. He ran his dirty hands up and down that long, hard dick, grinning maniacally. She wanted to gag, the smell was overpowering her senses. He was making himself even dirtier by touching his dick with his filthy hands.

  That didn't seem to matter to him. He too buried his hand in her hair and forced her down onto his long dick.

  And suddenly her mouth was full, yet again. He was longer than she could accommodate, so he tried to deep throat her. Since he was thinner than his boss, this was more successful.

  In and out he plunged, his cock curving and pushing into places she'd never been touched. He held her tightly making sure that the erratic attention from the riding crop would not disturb his own pleasure.

  And so she found herself being taken by two men, each after only their own pleasure. Each using her as a device to achieve it, She was their tool, their object. She was simply a means to an end.

  It humiliated her to be taken like this, to be used. But she was also more excited than she had ever been in her entire life. She had given herself over completely to her Master. She trusted him to take care of her, to keep her completely safe. She was his to do with as he would.

  The sheer thought of her helplessness sent her over the edge harder than she had in her life. She screamed around the dick that was buried in her throat. Her canal quivered and released, tightening and loosening as it urged him to expend his seed.

  They both did at once. Suddenly both of her holes were overflowing with juices. Semen shot down her throat while the rest filled her already full womb. When finally the janitor removed himself and moved to clean up, she heard her Master pull himself from her pussy with an audible pop. His cream poured out and down her legs.

  “Get cleaned up. I want you spotless for the next time I take you.” He commanded. “And I'm going to get more info on just how bad it is out there.”

  Trapped

  Inside the Vault #3

  by

  Claudia Balvenie

  Copyright 2015.

  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

  Lana stared ahead blankly, reflecting on her situation.

  The steamy shower poured over her ill-used body, washing away the sins of the past few hours. Just outside of the spray, the janitor was using a coarse, car-wash style brush to soap her skin. He was not gentle.

  The things she'd done since the bombs dropped raced through her head. How easily she'd submitted to the man she now called Master. She'd let his men take her just as roughly. And for what?

  Safety, plain and simple.

  Lana was a young reporter looking for her big break. Why the elusive billionaire Roger St. Clair had broken his self-imposed nomadism, she was uncertain. But it was too big of a chance. He wanted her to interview him, and it would make her career.

  She'd already discovered that he was a prepper, complete with a massive underground vault. He had the supplies to last indefinitely. And it was pure dumb luck that she was in the middle of the interview with him when the alarms sounded and the vault sealed tight.

  Of course, that left her at a bit of a quandary. Her Master had pointed out that she'd done nothing to prepare for this eventuality, and there was simply no reason for him to share everything he had stored with her, just because she happened to survive alongside him, his cook, and his janitor. There was no reason he couldn't turn her out to the wastes, to try and survive for herself. After all, she had nothing to offer the three of them, did she?

  But her Master was creative, and he'd come to a solution. They needed no one else to run the vault, the three of them could handle all of the daily activities. What they did not have was someone to satisfy St. Clair's voracious sexual appetites. It was a job that she did have all of the qualifications for.

  He told her he was not inhuman. If she did not choose to continue on as his employee, he would give her provisions. He'd even offered her weapons and a fallout suit. She could leave whenever she so desired.

  But if she left, she could never come back.

  Still, something nagged at her, worried at her investigative brain. The way the three were acting, some of the comments. No one seemed particularly worried about the world outside the vault. Only her Master was trying to maintain contact with anyone still able to communicate. Only he was still gathering information. The cook continued to cook. The janitor continued to clean. No one seemed overly concerned with all of the people who'd no doubt perished when the bombs dropped. Surely one of them had at least one family member they were concerned with, else she was trapped with three sociopaths.

  No, there was a more likely scenario.

  They were lying about the apocalypse.

  CHAPTER 2

  Once she'd ascertained her theory, Lana was ever vigilant for an opportunity to confirm her suspicions. The Janitor abruptly turned off the steaming water, leaving her in the cement room, nude, dripping. He stood back, his hungry eyes roaming over her nude form. She folded her arms over her chest, modestly.

  “Boss man doesn't like it when we fuck you in the pussy.” He stated simply. She furrowed her brow, watching as he was putting away the supplies he'd used to scrub her body. He'd been as thorough with that as he'd been in the rest of the sparkling vault.

  “Why?” She asked, as he'd certainly seemed plenty eager to share her with both the filthy janitor and the portly cook before. She was growing cold, the water dripping down her nude form.

  “Eh, wants all the kids of the new world to be his, I suppose.” He chuckled and took a couple of steps towards her, threateningly. She stepped away defensively.

  “I... see..” She kept backing away, her back touching the cold cinder block wall of the shower. He kept advancing, looming above her. He very slowly pulled off his thick gloves, revealing his massive hands. He tossed them behind him. The scent of ammonia and cleaning supplies radiated off his body. She couldn't understand how he could be so filthy when it was his job to be clean.

  His fingers, unasked, grabbed one of her breasts, squeezing it tightly. His thick, strong digits dug into her soft flesh. His other hand traced down, parting her legs. He slipped a finger along that slit, teasing her.

  “Course...
” he began. Suddenly he grabbed her shoulder and jerked her around, so that her bare chest was pushed against that coarse wall, the hardness scraping her tender nipples. “He said nothing about your ass.”

  The palm of one of those thick hands was pushing at the back of her head, shoving her cheek against the cinder blocks. Her slight form was pinned in his massive hands. She could hear him rummaging around behind her. The unmistakable sound of a zipper sounded.

  She considered protesting. She considered putting a stop to it. She knew it would hurt. But there again was that depraved part of her body that wanted nothing more than to be used and abused by this horrible group of men. A group who might even be lying to her about her circumstances. Once this was no longer pleasurable, she'd seriously have to do a deep self-evaluation.