The Deeper Game (Taken Hostage by Hunky Bank Robbers Book 3) (16 page)

Not just foresty; I was in a forest. A large, dark forest.

Memories started falling into place. The shower. The rough hand. The smell, so
not
my guys. I’d been drugged and brought here.

The horrible thought came to me that I could’ve been raped while I was unconscious, but in the next moment, I knew that I hadn’t.

Still, my heart pounded in my chest. Everything seemed surreal. Even the slim crescent moon in the sky. I could hear highway sounds, but it was hard to pinpoint the direction they were coming from.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling woozy, breathing deeply, trying to clear the cobwebs from my brain.

Determine where you are,
I told myself.

No city lights were visible to orient me. If I ran the wrong way, I’d be going deeper into wilderness. I gazed up at the moon, sitting senselessly on the side of the sky. Unlike the sun, which rises in the east and sets in the west, the fucking moon just flits all around.

Thanks, moon,
I thought
. Thanks a lot!

I tried to listen, smell, straining to figure out if I was maybe near the ocean. Could I be in the Santa Monica Mountains?

I swallowed, afraid to make a move, like I might alert my captor, who surely was out there, watching. Was this some part of a sick game? I’d seen a few movies where people were dropped in the wilderness as human prey. Could that be what was going on?

With a sick feeling, I remembered the feather guy. But he was in the hospital, right?

I sucked in more huge breaths, trying to wake myself up, thinking I should focus on finding a weapon.

It was then I noticed my clothes. I’d been dressed in some sort of a skimpy, tattered little dress, like a figure skater might wear if she were playing an impoverished waif or something. Maybe skating to the theme song of
Les Miserables,
or
Peter Pan.
The skirt had jagged panels of fabric, and I had no panties on. And pointy cloth moccasins.

Well, there was one clue about who had done this. It was somebody who hated good fashion!

And then I took another look at the outfit. Because it looked strangely familiar—like what the elf girl in the forest wears in the woodsman cartoon porn.

Was it my guys behind this? I couldn’t be sure. I kept coming back to the smell of my abductor.

The smell had been all wrong. And the way he touched me. And drugged me. Did my abductor know my cartoon porn habit?

Somewhere in the distance behind me, a stick snapped. Then there was a crunch. A footstep.

Adrenaline shot through me and on instinct, I took off running—no easy thing in the thin moccasins.

More footsteps sounded behind me—
crunch, crunch, crunch.
The footsteps increased, both in volume and number. Suddenly a dark, hooded figure stepped into my path.

I screamed and turned, heading back the other way, only to run smack into the very solid chest of another hooded man.

“Zeus?” I said. He felt like Zeus.

Hands grabbed me from behind and a sack was thrown over my head. It was scratchy, like burlap.

“You guys?” I cried out. “Come on,” I pleaded.

Surely it was them, cleverly fooling me.

“You have to tell me if it’s you or else it’s not fun!”

I was carried a ways and laid onto a strange, rough wooden platform. I tried to wriggle and kick away. A third man had joined the first two, or at least it seemed like a third one was there. He was trying to lock my kicking feet into cuffs.

“Come on,” I said. “I know it’s you.” Or, I was pretty sure.

A pair of hands stood me upright on the wooden platform; another pair of hands locked each of my ankles into a wide stance, via a spreader bar, it seemed.

No way could I run with that thing on. I flailed wildly; at one point, my knee connected. Somebody grunted, gripping my ankle harder and forcing it into place, until I was locked onto this strange platform.

“Odin?”

More hands lifted my hands up so that they were level with my ears. Something smooth and wooden grazed the front of my neck and the front of my wrists, like my neck and my wrists were being eased into semi-circles that had been cut into wood.

“I know it’s you,” I said hopefully through the hot burlap.

Something grazed the back of my neck and the backs of my wrists. And then there was a click.

It was as if two sets of semi-circles had fitted together, trapping my neck in a large circle and my wrists in smaller circles. This board thing forced me to stand upright in a kind of goalpost position, spread-legged. My chin rested on the smooth, wooden edge of the hole.

The elf-girl in the forest was often put in configurations like this by the evil woodsmen.

I yanked and squirmed to no avail. I moved my hands around; something else clicked and my palms came into contact with two knobs I could grip onto. My hands closed instinctively around them. “Come on!”

No answer, aside from the rustling of leaves. I stood there, trembling, blinded by the bag on my head. I used the knobs to pull up my weight and kick out my feet, spreader bar and all. I came into contact with nothing but air.

Large, rough hands caressed my hips, and I jerked. They went away and then came back again. There was something familiar about the touch.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, still woozy.

A voice. “Shh.”

The bag was whisked off my head—finally—and I gulped in the cool air. A large, hooded figure stood in front of me, shrouded in shadows aside from where the moonlight hit one of his big, black boots, which was scuffed up in a rather familiar way...

“Jesus!” I said. “Zeus!”

No answer. A hand brushed my hair from my eyes.

“You guys?”

“Shh.”

“Come on, say something!”

The figure before me stepped closer, into a shaft of moonlight; I could see now that he wore a green hat, green tunic, green tights, and boots. I’d recognize his big body anywhere.
Zeus.

“Oh my God!” I said, slightly pissed off. “Zeus! You scared me!”

“I don’t know who Zeus is, elf,” Zeus growled from under the dark hood.

I jerked my arms downward, trying to free myself. “Let me out of this.”

A hand slid around and touched my breast through the little dress. “This can go easy or this can go hard, elf-girl.”
Thor.

“You scared me!” I said, heart pounding. I didn’t know whether to be angry or what. They were re-enacting my favorite cartoon porn storyline. But seriously, they’d gone pretty far, abducting me like that. Though, to be fair, it’s similar to what happens in the cartoon. Except she was gathering flowers in the forest at the time. And they don’t drug her.

Odin, also in a hood and tights, came up beside me and grabbed my hair. If I hadn’t known it was him, I’d have certainly known by the way he grabbed my hair. “We can ravish you easy or hard,” he said. “Your choice.”

“What?” I asked stupidly.

“It’s a real question, elf.”

My heart pounded in my chest. My bank robbers wearing
tights
. For me. “You’re all in tights,” I said.

It was sweet. I was into costumes, but they typically weren’t. And here they were in tights! And they’d created this platform, which had clearly been modeled on one of my favorite dirty cartoon porn scenarios. Had they built it themselves?

The more I thought about it, the more I hoped so. Because how exactly would they have explained the device to whatever carpenter they’d hired?

Zeus disappeared from my view.

“Easy or hard, answer the question,” Odin said from under the dark hood. I couldn’t see their faces. It was wild and hot, and I found myself trembling like crazy, a mixture of leftover fear, but also excitement.

“You think I’m putty in your hands now? You think I’ll just do what you want, now?”

By way of answer, Odin’s hand tightened in my hair. The woodsmen ravished her hard in the scenarios I favored.

“I won’t answer your stupid questions,” I said.

I could feel Zeus watching me from under his hood, and I heard Thor rustling around back there. I felt my nipples tighten under the wimpy fabric.

“Hard, then,” Odin said.

I gripped the smooth knobs. My blood raced.

A finger lifted my skirt from behind and tucked it up into the bodice of my outfit. I could feel the cool night breeze on my bare ass. One finger trailed down my tender ass skin, tracing a lazy design of some sort. It was like my entire soul focused on that finger, what it would do next, where it would travel.

A delicious warmth spread through my nether-regions as I yearned for the finger to travel further southward and inward.

Odin let go of my hair.

It was here I realized I was panting.

Crunching footsteps sounded as Zeus approached. Even when he was near, I couldn’t see his face from under the hood. They’d positioned me so that the moon would be behind them when they stood in front of me. Unlike me, my hunky bank robbers knew exactly where the moon would be when.

Zeus said, “We’re going to have some fun with you unless you tell us to stop, and I think you know what that means.”

Mississippi
, he meant.

He touched something to my belly through the fabric. Because of the way my head was trapped, I couldn’t tip my head to look down and see what it was, which made it all the more exciting in a scary way.

I thought it might be a stick until he brought it up near my face and touched my cheek with it.

A riding crop.

My eyes widened.

“Do you? Do you know what it means?” he persisted.

They’d never used one of those before. “Yes,” I gasped.

“Good.” He walked back to where he’d originally stood and set the crop against a tree. Then he lifted his tunic, just enough for me to see his huge package barely contained within the stretchy green fabric. It was all wrong in a way that turned me on like crazy.

“Get the elf ready for me,” he said. An actual line from one of the cartoons.

“Oh my God,” I panted as one of my guys pressed against me from behind, sending waves of feeling through me. I felt a hand snake around my hip, and fingers gently parted my hot folds, delving in, caressing my clit. I closed my eyes, melting with desire. The finger moved and stroked through the hot slickness between my legs…slowly—cruelly slowly. I tried to move against it, to create some pressure, but my guys could be a little evil. My legs strained to come together, but the spreader bar prevented it. Thor—it had to be him—was driving me a little crazy.

Another hand reached around and brushed my nipple.

“She’s ready,” Thor said.

Zeus reached up as if he might be about to remove his hood.

“Stop! Keep the hood on,” I gasped.

Zeus stilled his hands. Grunted.

“You think pretty elves walking around in forests get a say in that kind of thing?” Odin asked.

“No,” I breathed as rough hands parted my butt cheeks. And the hood stayed on.

“Important that you know that, elf,” Odin said.

I gasped as his finger gently spread lube over the pucker of my asshole. I closed my eyes, feeling everything acutely, as though my asshole had grown extra nerve endings, and whoever it was back there was exploring each and every one of them, roaming over all the little folds and the tiniest creases. I imagined him pressing inward. I craved that he would, but he just kept circling, teasing.

I opened my eyes to come face to face with Zeus’s dark hood. It sent a zing of heat into my belly.

The finger pushed in just a tiny bit behind me, then out.

In the cartoon, the elf girl begs and cries for them to stop while they touch her and fuck her. I didn’t want Thor to stop, but I wondered what it would be like, to fully playact it.

A part of me wanted to fully playact it. The begging. The distress. But if I cried, they might stop.

Zeus cast aside the crop and brought his hands to his crotch, and the next thing I knew, he was ripping a hole in the tights. With sure, strong movements, he freed his cock, huge and thick and pale, jutting out from the smooth green fabric. “Strip her,” he commanded.

Rough hands behind me ripped off my waifish little dress, destroying it, no doubt. It was in the zone I couldn’t see.

The fabric fell away, and I was naked, trapped there. And the hoods seemed even more psycho now in a way that totally turned me on.

Zeus came to me then, head on. Hands behind me grabbed underneath my ass, supporting me as Zeus lifted my spread legs up so that his jutting exposed cock was positioned right against my hot, wet sex.

“Oh,” I said. He was Zeus, but also this hooded woodsman, about to plunder the elf girl.

“Feel it,” Odin whispered into my ear as Zeus pressed the fat tip of his cock partly into me, easing it in by increments.

I breathed, feeling it.

“You’re not struggling enough,” Odin added. “It seems to me that elves who are ravished in forests should be a little more upset.”

“What?” I asked.

“It seems to me,” Odin said, speaking slowly this time, “that if you don’t seem distressed enough, we’ll distress you.”

In the perfect choreography that was my bank robbers, the finger at my ass was gone, replaced by a hard slap.

“Ow!” I cried, more from the surprise.

“Beg us to stop,” Odin said, grabbing my hair.

Zeus withdrew, still hanging onto my thighs. His cock bobbed against my sex.

I looked into Odin’s faceless hood. In a low voice, he said, “Act distressed like the elf in the cartoon, or I’ll whip you until you really are distressed. She’s distressed when the fucking starts.”

How many times had they watched that thing?

“Maybe she doesn’t want to be that elf girl,” Zeus said.

“Do you want to be that elf girl?” Odin asked.

“Yes, let me be her,” I gasped. “I want to be like her.”

“Then be like her,” Zeus growled, getting with the program now.

Just then something large, hard, and cool breached my asshole, and it was so much feeling—too much goodness. I let out a little whimper. “Don’t, please,” I begged.

Zeus pulled my thighs wider as Thor kept forcing the thing in, penetrating me, invading me. “Please, no,” I gasped, even though I totally meant the opposite.