Captured by the Count: An Abduction and Breeding Fantasy (9 page)

But he was surprised to find himself much to
o jealous to do that now, or any time in the immediate future.  He intended to keep her all to himself.

And, indeed, their breeding program relied on him doing just that.

Jurek found that all of her wiggling and twisting had roused his own appetites, so even before she had settled down, he pressed himself within her, fully intending to enjoy the ride, with the reins firmly in his experienced hand.

Cassie was close to unconscious as she floated down from a high she never would have thought existed, where every pore of her body was wide open and she swore she could feel the very air that surrounded her.  Every inch of her body tingled – although some more than others – and her head buz
zed pleasantly as she realized that, despite how energized she felt, she could fall asleep very easily.

But the cruel man who had her in his clutches wasn’t about to allow that. 
Even before she began her descent, he had changed positions, lying atop her again, insinuating his legs between hers with practiced ease, as he’d been holding them open for his mouth to maraud anyway.

Within seconds, he had replaced those tormenting fingers some other part of her body that she couldn’t name, but she knew it was the one who had hurt her so badly the last time it had forced its way inside her.  And this time it hurt again – stinging madly – although she had to admit to herself that it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before.

And, to her great consternation, it got much better very quickly as he made the same motions he had before, rocking himself in and out of her hard, touching the entrance to her very womb with each powerful thrust, and thoroughly enjoying the fact that she seemed to be right there with him.  He could hear the breath gush out of her every time he plunged, and what had been soft sighs of
resignation rapidly became
unmistakable groans of pleasure.

If there was one thing that Jurek prided himself on, it was his ability to bring every woman he had ever touched to orgasm, in one way or the other.  He didn’t much care how he accomplished it, but he enjoyed not only dominating and punishing his women, but he got his greatest sense of satisfaction by then forcing them to yield their bodies – and, he believed, their deepest souls – to
him by cumming on his mouth or his cock or his fingers,
some mere
seconds after they had been most grievously punished.

He wasn’t sure whether
Cassie was like some of the women he had had over the years – who actually drew pleasure from their
own
pain, as well as from being very tightly controlled –
but he knew he would find that
out very shortly.

He continued to ride her, hard, with no thought wha
tsoever of the fact
that she had just been deflowered.  He wanted her, so he took her.  If she came along that was all right – for now – but if she didn’t, he didn’t much care.

Cassie was doing her best to try to ignore the feelings she felt building inside her, but there was no way to do so.  They demanded her full attention, and she lost that fight after a very short time.  The only instance that drew her out of that sensual reveri
e was when Jurek leaned down
and kissed her, with his mouth open and tasting of
...

Herself!  She could taste herself – her private places – on his mouth!  She tried to withdraw, but he
delved a hand into her hair, close to her scalp
,
to keep her lips right where he wanted them, where he could plunder and taste and tease to his heart’s content.

When he’d finished, exploding within her in much the same manner as she had outwardly a few minutes ago, Jurek collapsed down on top of her, until he began to hear muffled cries of protests from beneath and realized he was practically smothering her.
  He rolled to one side, but didn’t immediately release her
.  She was unlike the women h
e usually fucked, who were
of Eastern European descent, many of them Russians,
and much sturdier and stockier than this delicate American flower.

At least she hadn’t started screaming again, he realized, which was a point in her favor, but
he did notice that she hadn’t brought her legs to her chest as she should have in order to retain as much of his seed as possible.

So he sat up and did it himself, tugging her legs well up, then taking the flat of his hand to her behind for not having done as she was supposed to.  Later he would give her a more severe punishment, so that she would know that he meant exactly what he said to her, and that his word was law to her.  But right now it was more important that she remain in that exact position for a while.

Cassie bawled and howled just from his hand – he couldn’t imagine what she was going to do when he introduced her to his belt . . . or the cane he’d bought while he was in England a while ago
. . . or the single tailed whip he favored sometimes, although that could, if the person wielding it wasn’t very careful, permanently mar her skin, and he knew he oughtn’t do that until he knew whether or not she was capable of breeding.
  If she wasn’t she would be sold off as such, and
they would lose a lot of money if she was marred in any way.

Considering how often he wanted her – which, he was surprised to realize was again, right now, alt
hough he managed to deny himself, barely – she should be caught within no more than a month. 

“When was the date of your last woman’s time?” he asked, hearing her shocked gasp.

Cassie
immediately
clamped her mouth shut.  That was none of his business!

She was very surprised when her small act of defiance didn’t immediately earn her a clout or some sort of physical reprimand.  The men here seemed to delight in doing nothing more than beating helpless women.

But he didn’t say anything more, either, which also made her very uneasy, as if she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And it did.

After a small pause, Jurek reached over and released her hands, then grabbed a handful of her hair at the back of her neck and lifted her off the bed, practically just using that.  He
pushed her up against the closest wall, which seemed to be unusually bare, especially in comparison to the ornate fashion in which the rest of the room was decorated. 

She hadn’t noticed that there were handcuffs – the same type as had been used on her before, cushioned so as not to abrade her skin, but stiff, unfriendly leather.  Before she knew it she was caught wrist and ankle, spre
ad eagled and bound to the wall as if she was trying to give it a big hug.

From behind she could hear som
ething swishing through the air and knew she didn’t want to know what it was, and she couldn’t even begin to think that he was going to bring it crashing down onto her pert buttocks, but that was exactly what he did.  The very thin cane was almost more like a switch, cutting
viciously
through the air and then
even more cruelly into her vulnerable backside.

Cassie had seen swit
ches used on some of the children who lived near them
before, when they were unlucky enough to have parents that believed in corporal punishment, and those that did seemed to be quite fervent about it.  Mary Louise Coughlin had gotten a switching from her Mother right in front of Cassie for eating the crabapples she had been told not to
, and they weren’t even really children then
.
  That was just last year, and when the two of them had just turned eighteen.

So not only did poor Mary Louise have a stomach ache, but she had a burning butt to go with it.  Mrs. Coughlin hadn’t hesitated in the least in pulling her daughter’s skirt up and her bloomers down
, and Cassie had had to turn her head away from the mass of stinging welts she could see being raised on her neighbor’s backside.

She was entirely unprepared for the feeling of that whippy as it sizzled its way across her bottom, hitting both cheeks at the same time and leaving what she was quite sure was a line of pure fire on them both.
 
She tried to arch away from it, but found herself grinding her front against the wall.  There was nowhere to go to avoid any of the blows he decided to deliver. 
And before she was even able to finish drawing her horrified breath at the first strok
e, three more had been visted upon her
that had her bursting forth with both tears an
d
an outraged, anguished scream,
banging her hips against the wall in an effort to accomplish the impossible and pass right through it, away from the torment.

Many more – strokes as well as screams – followed, such that she completely lost her voice from doing so long before Jurek even thought of stopping.  He knew that this little implement stung like hellfire, but also that – although it would leave bruises and big, painful welts, it would not damage her fine white skin in any permanent manner.

Hopefully, however, it would
permanently affect her memory, and her attitude.  But if not, there would always be time made
for correction in this place - i
f not by him for some reason, then by one of the matrons or Victor.  Indeed, the only people in this establishment who were not allowed to punish the young ladies who inhabited it were the young ladies themselves. 

Jurek brought that cane down on her
until his arm was tired, until her buttocks were a mass of t
hin, angry red lines that criss-
crossed down its length and even halfway down the tender, excruciatingly tender backs of her thighs.

And then he put the cane away,
dressed, and left the room, saying nothing more to her, leaving her right where she was, scarecrowed buck naked against the wall, her bottom stinging and throbbing fit to drive her insane.

Cassie didn’t know how long he’d been gone, but she knew exactly what she was going to say when he came back.
 
And when he returned with a tray of food,
she couldn’t blurt it out fast enough, stumbling and stuttering nervously, her tongue tripping over itself in order to get the information he wanted out as quickly as possible.

“I – I d-don’t know wh-when my last . . . time w-was, but the m-month bef-fore was the fifteenth th-through the eighteenth.”

Jurek didn’t acknowledge what she’d said in the least, but put the food
to one side on an occasional table and took up right where he had left
off, as if she hadn’t just answered her question
, laying down another set of strokes over the fresh ones from a very short time ago.  In the middle of that, he became tired of hearing her screams and moans, and gagged her a
gain, then finished her off by using
not one but two of the vicious implements at
the same time, giving her double the agony.

After having put them both away
in an ornate jar that looked like it had been designed to hold umbrellas,
he s
tood behind her, pressin
g himself up against her blazing butt
and rubbing himself against its searing heat.  He reached up and grabbed another hunk of hair, close to her scalp, arching her neck back painfully and whispering into her ear, “The next time I tell you to do something, you’re going to do it
as soon as I ask you to, aren’t you?”

Although it hurt her to do so, Cassie nonetheless nodded her head very vehemently in agreement.

He let go of her head but didn’t make a move to free her.  Instead he s
ank down on the bed and admired his handiwork as he ate a bit of breakfast and listened to her weep behind the gag.

Eventually, after he had eaten what he wanted of the fare, he got up and removed her from the shackles to force her to kneel on the floor before him as he reclaimed his seat and fed her from his own hand
.  Not too much, of course.  He believed that females who weren’t breeding needed to be kept hungry so they would be that much more interested in becoming pregnant.  Breeding females
– at least those such as Cassie -
were fed very generously of the highest quality food money could buy, and she – with her crowning glory of hair – would be the most cosseted among them, if you could call it that.
  Even the lowly born ones were fed much better once they were pregnant – worlds better than they would have eaten on their own or at home.

This set the pattern to Cassie’s life.  She was rarely ever alone.  Jurek was nearly always with her, and if he couldn’t be, then either the matrons or, on rarer occasions, the Count, would come to babysit her.  Why they thought she needed looking after when Jurek always left
her bound to the bed
, she never knew, but there was always a watchful pair of eyes on her even when she was entirely helpless.

She ate and drank only that wh
ich he gave her, and never at
table.  All of those fine manners her Mother had tried to drill into her went entirely to waist.  Nothing had ever been mentioned to her about what the etiquette of eating at a man’s feet was.  And although she always had lofty ideals of refusing sustenance, it never lasted any longer than seei
ng him offer her a bit off food because she was kept constantly hungry.
  She was never dressed any more, either, unless one considered the
collar,
cuffs and chains that Jurek had had the smithy weld onto each of her wrists and ankles in a manner th
at seemed to be quite permanent, even the collar itself would take another smithy to remove.