The Ranch Ch. 01

WARNING: A gritty adventure story featuring distressing themes throughout subsequent chapters; coercion, traumatic forced sex scenes, kidnapping and a torture scene in Chapter 4, all which could be very triggering. Features HEA. Suitable for non-con fans and mainstream readers with strong constitutions.

***

"Your turn," Cory said, chalking his pool cue.

Mark shifted his attention from the reddening sunset back to the game. "Remember what you told me when I suggested putting a pool table out here?"

Cory shrugged his broad shoulders. "Don't remember. High maintenance?"

Bending over, Mark took careful aim. "You said I could use more know-how in running a ranch. And we've been out here every night of the week," he added, not taking eyes off the table. Knocking out three balls with one deadly shot, he straightened up, satisfied.

"I didn't try to stop you," Cory reminded him.

"I know. I just like to reestablish when I'm right," Mark answered, surveying the table with a teasing half-smile on his lips.

Cory sat down on a wide cushioned bench and leaned forward to watch. "It's bad form to gloat about unrelated topics when you're winning a game," he replied dryly.

Mark laughed. "We should have played for money. Or women."

Cory raised an eyebrow, laying his cue-stick aside on a large raised stone that had been chipped into a table. He picked up his beer and watched Mark carefully. "Women?"

"It's been a while. I mean, since the two of us..." Mark vaguely tilted his head, carefully lined up his cue and ended the game. When Cory didn't respond Mark dropped his cue-stick onto the green table and took a seat next to him, raising a beer to his lips as he again fixed his navy-blue eyes on the breathtaking view.

Mark and Cory were best friends, and business partners. Together they owned a luxury ranch, which had become an immensely popular destination for honey-mooners, rich business associates and well to-do families rolling in old money. For three weeks of every year, the ranch was closed off to guests, and Mark and Cory each occupied one of two presidential suites on-site, with only a few select staff to keep the place clean and running. Over the three weeks they caught up with each other's doings, reminisced about old times, and engaged in the facilities which made the ranch such a desirable holiday destination. Three years ago, on a spontaneous whim, they had purchased the land together and built the ranch.

The ranch surrounds held great appeal with activities such as fishing, hunting, horse-riding, and incredible scenery. On-site there was a number of luxury suites, three dining areas, a small indoor pool and sauna, a gym, tennis court, games room, and bar lounge. Arguably one of the ranch's most popular features was an enormous outdoor area complete with a pool table and surround seating, which captured unobstructed views of the sunrise and sunset. The high-rise location provided a picture of infinite wilderness, and many guests spent hours out there, watching through binoculars to sight wildlife, or just take in the astounding abundance of untouched nature. It was one of the most popular spots for guests to linger over drinks, play a game of pool, or for couples to hold hands and profess their love for each other.

Most of the year Mark worked part-time in corporate finance. With a lucrative career and a sizeable inheritance, he had more than enough money to retire, but hated to be idle and loved the cut-throat rush of business. Cory was a hugely successful farmer, and owned two properties with different functions - crops and poultry. Mark initially helped finance his businesses, and Cory had since repaid his investment tenfold.

Both thirty-two years of age, they had known each other since high school. In youth, just as in adulthood, Mark was charismatic, arrogant, with a tendency to sarcasm and cruelty. In school Cory was strong, dignified and mysteriously silent, though had come out of his shell as a quietly confident man when he grew older. Both men had set girls' hearts aflutter in their boyhood.

When Mark first laid eyes on Cory, he immediately recognised a competitor to his dominant presence at school, and quickly sought to bring Cory down before he could establish popularity with their peers. Mark forced Cory into a fight of honour, and was unpleasantly surprised to lean that quiet, mild, Cory was no 'sissy boy' too scared to throw a punch. Cory easily equalled him in strength and wit, and Mark had never before met anyone who came close to matching him, or caused him to doubt himself in a fight. The whole year watched breathlessly as Mark and Cory beat each other bloody, but there was no clear winner. From that moment, whether for mutual respect or blind admiration, despite clear personality differences, they became inseparable.

More than a decade later they had both grown into tall, strong, handsome men. Mark was only slightly taller than Cory's 6'4", and at the ranch their tall figures were easily recognisable from a distance whenever they went riding or explored the surrounds.

Mark had dark, slightly curled hair, and deep midnight-blue eyes which could flash steel-ice in one moment, and other times dissolve into dark liquid navy. Dedication to a strict gym routine ensured that he was well-muscled and strong, which suited his height and broad shoulders.

Cory favoured a simple, clean-cut appearance, and kept his sandy-coloured hair short. His eyes were a very light brown, like caramel, and shone gold when they caught in the light. Favouring a practical approach to running farmland, Cory's physique was incidentally very similar to Marks, except he had a tendency to relax his stance. Mark, working in an industry where appearances were important, almost always stood proudly to his full-height.

From a distance, the two were difficult to tell apart, if it weren't for the vast difference in the colouring of their hair and eyes, they could be mistaken for brothers.

Both Cory and Mark were unmarried, unattached, and their relationships with women were fleetingly hard and fast, without intimacy. They were highly-sexed men, and neither had difficulty finding eager sexual partners. They shared the same disinterest in continuing relationships with women, this is where the similarities ended. Though partial to hardcore sex, at worst Cory could occasionally be considered a selfish lover, merely focused on his own desires without giving a hoot about his partner's enjoyment, whilst Mark leaned toward kinkier practices and possessed a definite sadistic streak in the bedroom. Because both were remarkably attractive, none of their previous liaisons seemed bothered by these aspects of their character.

In the past, they had engaged in threesomes, but this sort of arrangement had dwindled to an end - during these encounters the differences in their personalities became apparent enough to affect the enjoyment of all. Now the only fun they had together with women was when they waged bets on who could successfully seduce a target, agreed upon by both.

"It hasn't been a while for me," Cory remarked, picking up the conversation. "A week ago, I did one of my staff in the barn."

"You fucked the help, and waited all week to tell me?" Mark exclaimed, turning to him. "That's hot. Tell me more."

Cory shrugged a shoulder. "Small tits, great ass, English accent."

"You, and your 'British nanny' fetish," Mark retorted, making a face.

"Don't have a type, you know that," Cory briefly shook his head, finishing his beer and setting it down next to his cue-stick with a clunk. "Well, I do have a type, actually. It's called 'fuckable'."

"Amen," said Mark, smiling at the sky as it rapidly morphed from bright scarlet to ocean blue.

They both turned as the large glass doors leading onto the outdoor area swung open.

"Excuse me, Mr Murray, Mr Benedict." Marco, the ranch manager, tentatively approached them. Marco was older, in his late 40s, and had managed the ranch on behalf of Mark and Cory since they'd first opened the establishment.

"What is it, Marco?" Cory enquired.

Marco paused awkwardly. "I was just leaving for the day, but there's a young lady. She's a bit put out, it appears her car broke down some distance away."

Both Mark and Cory perked up at the mention of the girl. Mark set his beer down and stood, stretching.

"Where is she, Marco?" he drawled.

Marco's expression became very mask-like. He respected both men, but whilst he had taken a fatherly fondness to Cory, he had always disliked the coldness in Mark's eyes. Now he could see Mark showed significant interest in a stranded stranger, which he rarely demonstrated towards guests. The girl, Marco already knew upon meeting her, was very lovely. With three daughters of his own, he became concerned.

When Mark and Cory stayed on the property, the ranch was as good as deserted. Marco only hung around during the first week of their stay to wind up administrative matters for future bookings - mainly stock orders and guided tour activities. Although the limited number of staff were on 24hr call, in the evening they moved to occupy housing a short distance away from the ranch.

"I gave her refreshment, and left her in the lobby," Marco answered stiffly. "I would be happy to stay back and see her safely transported to town?"

Mark's blue eyes lit up with interest at Marco's words. His professional work was rife with office politics, and much of his success was attributed to an ability to accurately read people. So, Marco was worried about them being alone with the girl. She must be worth his perusal.

"No need, no need, Marco," Mark smiled, showing his teeth. "It's much too late to organise transport. Go home to your family, we'll take care of the young lady."

Marco opened his mouth to press his point, but changed his mind. Descended from a long line of men who faithfully served the best of upper class, he wasn't going to argue with one of the owners of the establishment. Though he'd rather take the girl home to his own family for the night than leave her alone with the two men, he couldn't propose this without insulting his employers. He doubted Cory would do her harm, but the look in Mark's eyes made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Well, Sirs, I'll...I'll be on my way," Marco said, turning back to the doors. As he opened them his conscience stung him. "I'll be back first thing in the morning, possibly earlier," he said pointedly, shutting the doors behind him.

"First thing in the morning?" Cory repeated. "I thought he'd finalised everything today. That was weird," he remarked, still watching the doors Marco exited.

Mark brushed his hands down the front of his red shirt. "No it wasn't," he said, smiling. "Sometimes, Cory, your lack of perception disappoints me. Let's go meet our new guest, she might be our type."

"Guest?" echoed Cory, standing up and moving past Mark to the glass entrance.

"Of course," Mark replied, following him through the doors. "We can't abandon a damsel in distress, can we?"

Together they walked in silence through the high-ceilinged dining area. The room was classically decorated, with red velvet seats matching thick, oak dining tables, and burgundy leather couches facing toward the windows. Eerily silent for lack of numbers and mood-setting music, the sound of their footsteps clapped throughout the room as they strolled across it towards the large bronzed staircase leading down to the lobby.

Mark and Cory paused together at the top of the staircase, looking down. Evidently, the girl hadn't heard their approach or noticed their presence.

Though her height couldn't be observed from her seated position, she was tall, slender, with long, flowing dark hair. Her cheekbones were flatteringly high, and her eyes were a dull green, like clouded emeralds. Her full lips appeared to be naturally set in a reflective pout. The sensible, silk white blouse she wore might have given off an impression of innocence, had it not been tarnished by light patches of dust obviously accumulated from her long-distanced walk. The shirt, in combination with her snug black jeans and ankle boots gave her a femininely wild appearance. Seated at the bar, a black leather bag hung over her shoulder, and she absently twirled a cocktail stirrer around a tall, empty glass.

Mark's blue eyes were practically glowing, his smile more wicked than hospitable. He'd certainly not misread Marco's trepidation - the girl was absolutely stunning. Casting a glance at Cory, they met each other's eyes and grinned. Neither was entirely sure what the next few moments held in store, but they were sure to enjoy themselves regardless.

"I don't believe we've met," Mark called from the top of the staircase.

At the sound of his deep voice, the girl's wavy locks bounced as her head jerked up in surprise.

"Oh!" she breathed mildly, very intimidated by the sight of the two, very tall men quietly watching her. Setting her glass down, she quickly swivelled down off the black bar stool she was perched upon, and anxiously ran her hands down her thighs as they approached her.

"I'm really sorry to intrude like this," she apologised, and her voice was sweetly genuine. "You're obviously cleared out for a big event, but I was wondering if I could possibly book a room for tonight? My car broke down, and this was the only scrap of civilisation visible for miles."

She paused meditatively for a moment. "Actually, it would be better if you could recommend a service that might transfer me to town at this time of night. If you could do that, I'd be really grateful."

"I'm Mark Benedict," Mark held out his hand, dismissing her explanation and inquiry. "And this is Cory Murray."

"Sorry, I'm Katie," the girl replied, shaking hands with both men nervously.

Cory stared, and stared. When he first laid eyes on Katie, he wasn't sure if he was hallucinating and momentarily wondered if Mark had hired a high-priced hooker as a practical joke. Finally pulling himself together, he spoke.

"Nice to meet you, Katie," he greeted her politely, but the desire in his light eyes was unconcealed. "We're actually not booked out for an event, so we'd be honoured if you'd stay as our guest."

"There's no kind of taxi service out here?" Katie enquired, looking down and fumbling around in her bag.

"Nope, but you're not intruding at all," Mark affirmed good-naturedly. "In fact, Cory and I have been boring each other all week. A female presence would be refreshing."

"Uh huh," Katie nodded, only half-listening as she finally spied her purse. "Where do I check in?"

She looked up in surprise as both men laughed.

"That isn't a possibility at present," Cory informed her, moving closer. She smelled like a combination of perfume and forest, fresh and infinitely alluring.

"Right..." Katie replied, slowly looking up from Cory to Mark, confused by their smiling lack of answers. "I'm afraid I'm not in on the joke - if you're not booked for an event, where is everybody?"

She felt her heartbeat accelerate, realising that she hadn't seen any staff, apart from Marco, who advised he was shortly leaving the premises. For all she knew, she was alone on an enormous property, out in the middle of nowhere, with two strange men.

"They're around," Mark waved a large hand dismissively. "Have you eaten?"

"Well, no," Katie confirmed. "But-"

"Then I suggest you join us," Mark cut her off. "We dine rather late, so we haven't eaten yet. You'll probably want to freshen up first," he nodded to Cory. "We're used to accommodating every need and necessity here, so we'll have clean clothes available in your size."

Mark slowly ran his blue eyes over Katie's body. Starting from her elegant neck, he paused for a long moment on her pert breasts, before moving down her trim waist and thighs, then his eyes flickered up again to meet her indignant stare.

"I'm guessing you're extra-small?" he innocently predicted, as though his ogling was merely a professional estimate.

"No, just small," Katie replied flatly, her green eyes narrowing at Mark's insolent stare. "Are you sure there's no available transport?"

"None, sorry," Cory chimed in, not sounding sorry at all. "If you'd follow me, I'll get you settled in and then you can join us for dinner."

"Oh no," Katie protested, not bothering to hide her increasing discomfort. "If I could have something in my room..."

"Not an option," Mark shook his head. "Our staff numbers are quite limited at present, so it'd be a difficult task to navigate, since it's almost time for them to head off." He glanced down at the large, black watch on his wrist.

"Right. Ok, then," Katie gave Mark a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes, and turned to Cory. "Lead the way, and I'll follow."

Without a backward glance at Mark, who she knew watched her carefully, Katie followed behind Cory as he led her beneath the wide staircase to a bronze elevator. Katie didn't want to rub her spontaneous hosts up the wrong way, but she very nearly called Mark out on his bullshit about dinner. No 5 star property she'd ever heard of would have difficulty coordinating an in-room meal. If anything, it'd be much easier for staff to accomplish, without having to go to the effort of setting a table and dancing attendance.

Evidently Mark was determined that she dine with them, and if it was necessary to save her spending a night in wild bushland, she'd put up with his company. Not quite sure how she felt about Cory, Katie already disliked Mark, since he seemed to look at her with the same interest a hyena would take to raw meat. Being a strikingly attractive woman, in her 27 years Katie had dealt with her fair share of sleaze. But never at an extremely isolated, semi-abandoned property.

"Don't mind him," Cory said quietly, meeting Katie's stormy eyes in the elevator's mirror as they stood side by side. "He likes to mess with people, it's in his nature."

"Uh huh," Katie said, for the second time in five minutes. "Are you two cousins, or something?"

The elevator chimed as they reached their level. Cory held his arm across the doors and motioned for Katie to walk ahead of him. "Nope. We're just old friends."

"Giant friends," she remarked, looking up at Cory's height as he walked alongside her, thinking she wasn't as tall as she'd thought. He was wearing a yellow button-up t-shirt, which brightened his appearance as it picked up the colour of his light eyes and hair. Evidently he was very strong, his arms were toned, thickened by muscle, and his torso appeared very solid. Katie silently noted his physique was almost identical to Mark's, except he sported quite a tan.

"This is you," Cory stopped by a large, glossy brown door and casually ran a keycard across the handle. It bleeped green and clicked open.

Katie blinked. "Room 69?" she exclaimed incredulously, disbelieving such an inappropriate coincidence. "Why this room?"

"It neighbours our in-house clothing store," Cory answered easily, brushing past her through the doorway.

The number didn't make sense to Katie, as she imagined there wouldn't be more than 15 suites on site. She couldn't specifically remember, but the elevator definitely had less than six levels access. But not wanting to embarrass herself by debating the suggestive number, she lightly tapped forehead with her knuckles in frustration before following him in.

The suite was beautiful. The front door opened to a spacious living area, with a stone dining table and a black leather lounge facing a large, wall-attached plasma TV. Alongside two floor-to-ceiling glass doors was a small working desk and computer. Because it was night, you couldn't see much through the glass except that the doors opened onto a small balcony, but Katie guessed during the day the view would be spectacular. A small cream-coloured hallway connected the lounge to the bedroom and ensuite, and along the hall leading into the bedroom hung a large, decadently fluffy white robe. Katie peered down the hall after Cory but remained in the living area, blushing, as he went though into the bedroom to turn on all the lights.