Semi-Hard (2 page)

Dillon stroked through her folds while her strained thighs quivered, and she sobbed miserable wails while he spread the cream her body gushed in welcome.
 
The girl would be easy to discipline, and Dillon figured that he could get a good price for her with a minimal investment of time.
 
A few more swipes and he plunged a finger into her tightening wetness.
 
Dillon was rewarded with the little nub at the top peeking out of her moist, trembling crease.

One hand continued to stroke and plunge, and the other reached behind him and into a box that contained screwdrivers, pencils and other odds and ends, until he felt the small bullet-shaped object.
 
He turned the base and was rewarded with a low buzzing hum.
 
Dillon spread the girl further and he touched the vibrator against her exposed clit until it enlarged and turned red with arousal.
 
She was alternating her whimpers with screams, and he thought once more of recording the music to listen to between captures.

More cream slid from her depths and coated his fingers until they shone in the light and he could feel her reluctant clenching.
 
Dillon unzipped his pants, and her sobs became more frantic.
 
He had forced his cock to suffer agonized denial long enough, and Dillon watched his rod slide into the girl’s tight hole as it clenched and sucked him in while he continued to masturbate her.
 
This was definitely not the first rodeo for her pulsing channel.

He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations, and he felt the girl tightening feverishly against his unmoving shaft.
 
He pushed a little closer and he felt her cervix slip back from his length.
 
Dillon was rewarded with another shriek, and the sound caused his balls to draw up.
 
Her hips began pushing up and into him as her suffering need to climax fought with her terror.
 
Soon… soon
, he thought.
 
Dillon felt the tight spasms begin, as behind the tape gag she screamed out her orgasm in frustration.
 
Only then, only when she had debased herself by cumming, did he finally begin to move his hips to slide his cock through her channel.
 
His hands dug into her thighs, bruising her with their force, and he sucked in a deep breath as he threw his head back, gritted his teeth, and jetted deep inside of her.

When Dillon was finished, he wiped his slick cock on her thigh.
 
The girl was sobbing, and he reached up and pinched a nipple tightly between two fingers until she shrieked again.
 
“I knew you were a slut,” he stated flatly.

It would be two days until they would reach the large metal building behind his house, located in the middle of a one hundred acre plot of nondescript desert he had inherited from his father.
 
Dillon had added the semi’s garage with some of the proceeds from his old man’s insurance.
 
A wall divided the truck from his training facilities.
 
He had updated the buildings years ago, so that everything was powered by windmills and solar panels.
 
A deep well provided the water and, as far as Dillon knew, other than the yearly property taxes, his property was off the grid.

The land was barren, and the plots around him had never been developed.
 
His nearest neighbor was twenty miles away, and the small road passing in the distance in front of his land led absolutely nowhere.
 
It dead-ended into desert a few miles past his driveway, and Dillon had only seen one small car travel the road in three years.
 
Within minutes it had turned around and was speeding back towards civilization.

Just before he turned out the lamp to catch a few hours of sleep, he swiveled the light towards the frightened girl’s face.
 
Dillon pushed her hair out of her eyes, and he realized that she was not bad looking.
 
On top of that, she was blonde… a favorite south of the border… and he figured that it might be worth spending a little extra time on her training, after all.

So far, he had only turned one girl over to a cartel at the suggestion of the brothel he dealt with.
 
They had decided that the girl could bring high dollars from the mercenaries who regulated the area.
 
The brothels preferred not to deal directly with the dangerous groups, and they would not tell Dillon a contact number until he agreed to split the money he received for the slave.
 
Now that he had the information, Dillon could contact them himself when he had an exceptional trade, and cut out the payment to the brothel acting as the middleman.

Dillon was satisfied that the girl could be turned into a compliant lucrative asset, and he reached out and gently stroked her wet cheeks.
 
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Three months later, he
had
received a very good price for the girl, ending in an association that changed his strategy.
 
Dillon usually dropped the girls off at the brothels, to be moved to whichever establishment was shorthanded.
 
This time, he had contacted the cartel directly, and after he assured them that the girl was of equal quality to the last slave they had purchased from him, they gave him the location of an auction to be held that afternoon.

Dillon was surprised when they invited him to watch, and he stuffed the money they gave him into his pocket and followed the men through a courtyard to the main house.
 
The estate reminded him of a cleaned up, expensive version of the prison where he had worked.
 
Armed guards scanned the outside of the twelve foot walls through rectangular holes carved out of the stucco, and the light sienna square building had heavy wooden doors with ornate iron fittings locking them closed.

There would be no admission to the house, and an arrangement of chairs around the courtyard formed a half circle around a post with chains currently securing a young Mexican woman.
 
She was gagged, and her wide eyes sought Dillon out, pleading to him.
 
He walked back to the shadows under the alcove, and a waiter handed him a potent, heavy tasting beer.
 
Damn, it was hot, and he felt sweat trickle down his neck as he leaned back against a support and crossed his ankles.

He was halfway through his second beer, sipping slowly until the bottle was warm.
 
The last thing he wanted to do was become impaired around this group.
 
His attention was caught by one of the heavy doors to his side opening, and a group of men exited the house.
 
By costume alone, he could see several Arabs, some European styled men, and perhaps two Americans.
 
Dillon figured that they must be the buyers, and several had bodyguards by their sides.
 
This surprised the cowboy, because he thought that the women he brought them stayed in Mexico.

His thoughts turned to just how lucrative this business must be, when a heavy set man with dark hair that was just beginning to streak with silver at the temples, turned towards him.
 
Their eyes met for a moment, and then the man spoke to his aid.
 
While the guard turned to study the cowboy in the shadows, the buyer sat with a snifter of cognac, and turned his attention back to the girl on display.

Buyers wanting closer inspection of the bound offering, rose and approach the terrified woman, and one of the Arabs paid a fee to have his guard lash a whip across her ass.
 
The gagged shriek must have pleased the white robed man, because his white teeth shone in a smile and he nodded to the cartel representative announcing the merchandise.
 
The girl was removed from the post and led away by her new owner’s security guard.

Dillon watched several more girls presented, and it seemed to him that most of them appeared to have been recently abducted.
 
They displayed none of the submissive qualities of training to please the men seated in front of them, and their panic overrode any possibility for them to experience what was happening to them.
 
Their faces were ruined with the tears they had cried since their captivity, and a few of the girls bore bruises on their thighs or bottoms.
 
Dillon decided that some of the cartel members must have initiated them towards their future.

The cowboy could not decipher the silent nature of payment for the women, but Dillon was certain that the amount he had been paid for his trained slave was a fraction of what the cartel would receive for her.

His blonde was brought out, compliantly raising her arms to be secured, though the fear was evident in her blue eyes as she searched the audience until she located him.
 
A look of calmness crossed over her face, and Dillon noticed the big man look back at him again.
 
Although the man’s guard had led two previous young women away, this was the first time that the big man approached the stage for a closer inspection.
 
When he rose, two other potential buyers quickly reclaimed their seats, and Dillon suspected that, for whatever mysterious reason, no one would bid on his slave until the dark haired man had made his decision.

Viktor’s sharp eyes noticed the man in the shadows as soon as he and the other buyers were led to the courtyard.
 
Two months ago, he had purchased a redhead that was not the usual street fare the cartel usually tried to move.
 
Earlier, when all the potential buyers were negotiating lines of payment with the cartel, they were offered a preview of the women being auctioned.
 
The slaves were huddled together in a room off the parlor, and just before the buyers were escorted outside, a blonde was led in.
 
She nervously knelt in position while the other dark beauties wailed behind gags and shook in terror as the men looked at them through the bars.

The blonde… somehow Viktor knew that the man with the black hat and boots had brought her.
 
While he waited patiently for her to come up to the post, he purchased two sluts for his men in the guardroom that were watching his estate in Russia.
 
Finally, the small woman was led out, obediently raising her cuffed wrists but fearfully scanning the crowd until she located the cowboy.

Viktor rose, and several men returned to their seats.
 
If the Russian wanted the girl, the other buyers knew that he would drive the price up to unreasonable limits.
 
The young woman trembled while Viktor caressed her breasts, and her eyes never left the shadowed man across the courtyard.
 
Viktor leaned closer, pressing against her, and he slid a thick finger between her pussy lips.
 
Her clit was ringed as well as her nipples, and the Russian acknowledged the cowboy’s attention to detail.
 
It seemed obvious that her pussy, legs and arms had been permanently denuded.

When his finger stroked her slit, she immediately lubricated, and she glanced up at him once before returning her stare to the cowboy.
 
In a short amount of time she was rocking her hips into his hand, encouraging his stroking with half-closed eyes of passion while she continued to gaze at the trainer.
 
Her climax was quick, and when Viktor shoved his finger inside the wet hole, the spasming clenching of her channel assured him that the orgasm was genuine.

He nodded to the auctioneer, and looked back towards the alcove.
 
Mikhail led the girl to the transport cages, and the Russian met Dillon’s black eyes.
 
They were narrowed with a hint of a sadistic, knowing smile.
 
With his property sold, Dillon had no interest in watching more street whores displayed.
 
He made his way around the edges of the wall towards the gate, and he left the auction in search of a bar for one more cold beer before making his way back to his truck.

The cool sweating bottle thudded down on the scarred wood of the bar in front of him, and when Dillon’s hand moved to his pocket to pay, an arm reached across him and tossed cash towards the bartender.
 
Dillon took a sip of beer before looking up to see his benefactor.
 
It was the bodyguard who had accompanied his slave’s buyer.
 
Dillon lifted an eyebrow, but he remained silent.

“Viktor regrets that he cannot leave the festivities for a while, and he wishes to impose on your time to wait for him.
 
I think this meeting would most definitely be of interest to you.”

“Russian?” Dillon guessed.
 
He sipped a long draw of the cold beer.

“Yes, my friend.”
 
The man smiled and sat down on the barstool next to him, flagging the bartender for another bottle.
 
“I am Mikhail, and Viktor has asked me to see to any needs you might have while we wait.”

Dillon shrugged with an indifference he was not really feeling.
 
The brief time he had spent watching the auction had assured him that the money he had received for the blonde girl was a minute amount compared to how much the cartel had received for her.
 
These people were wealthy, with funds available to purchase slaves or, just as easily, to make people disappear.
 
“Well, Mikhail, why do you think they invited me to watch the proceedings?”

“The cartel must work with Viktor out of necessity, but I’m sure you noticed that no one challenges him.
 
The Mexicans could see his interest in the two slaves you provided, and they must be willing to throw your future merchandise to persuade us from further ambushing their profit,” Mikhail answered honestly.
 
“Viktor is able to get their prime slaves with a much lower investment than if the cartel can force a bidding war between the other buyers.”