The Ranch Ch. 07

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Cory and Alex reunite.
10.7k words
4.68
23.5k
20

Part 7 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 02/28/2015
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Bellie444
Bellie444
1,847 Followers

Dear readers,

To those of you who have been waiting for me to finish what I started ages ago, I owe you an apology: I'm sorry! Particular apologies to those who wrote me direct, who I replied that I would submit new chapters 'soon' ... months ago (Cringe). As per usual this Ch is far from perfect, but I've decided it's better to keep the ball rolling than keep people waiting indefinitely, even if some will be unimpressed/disappointed. But that will always be the case! ;)

Enjoy.

***********

Click, click, click, click.....

Katie groggily raised to her side and quickly pressed a clammy palm to her forehead as the room spun around her.

"Arrrghh," she groaned, blinking her eyes open. Peering bewilderedly at her surroundings, she lay on an over-sized grey daybed, covered in a thin, forest-green blanket. Despite the cushioned comfort, Katie's mouth was dry, and her whole body ached. Blinding sunlight flooded the room, spilling through large windows framed in white satin. The rays brightly reflected off the ivory walls and stung her tired eyes. She was still barefoot, wearing the same black jumper and jeans from the ranch. The high-ceilinged room was sparsely furnished, but tastefully decorated. A delicate scent of peach drifted about the room, wafting from a large, peach-coloured candle on a glass table close by the daybed. Beside the candle was a large jug of water and a tall, empty glass.

Click, click, click....

Turning to the persistent sound, Katie started as she recognised George sitting behind a desk on the other side of the room, clicking a long silver pen in his hand. Remembering everything, Katie's lush lips parted and closed in speechless horror. Seeing her eyes dart about the room and fix on the door, George spoke softly.

"Two men, right outside," he informed her, gently dropping the pen to the desk with a 'clack'. "They're everywhere." Leaning back in his leather chair, George casually waved a hand as though to circle the building, before smugly folding his arms.

Respectably dressed in a crisp white business shirt and black trousers, he looked very different to the hurried traveller Katie encountered back at the ranch. The desk he sat behind was very wide, sleekly black, and quite ornate. Elegantly sinister. Momentarily distracted by the intricate pattern of the desk legs, she was sharply brought back to the present by George's shiny brown shoes resting beneath, as one began to tap the ground.

"What do you want?" Katie trembled, sitting up straighter to face him. Meeting his eyes, she instinctively pulled the blanket higher to shield herself.

"Why, you, Katie," George answered with mild surprise. "Just yourself." His dark eyes travelled from the rosy flush on her high cheekbones, down her smooth neck, stopping at her chest which was covered by the blanket. "Just you," he repeated, more thickly.

Though he had himself well in control, observing her peaceful slumber had taken its toll. Now those fascinating green eyes were watching him, fearfully wide, and his body warmed with desire. Katie's startled expression reflected an almost childlike innocence, and with dark locks tousled about her face, she looked adorably confused. George contemplatively licked his lips.

"W-where am I?" Katie asked, uneasily watching George's black eyes darken with intensity. Even within the safety of the ranch, their introductory meeting terrified her. Now, she was completely alone with him. His captive.

"One of my more 'out-of-the-way' properties," he smiled, pushing his chair back and rising. Briefly frowning down at the papers on his desk, George made a thoughtful smacking sound with his lips and absently slipped one hand down the front pocket of his black trousers. "I stole you, Katie, and you're not leaving."

Hearing her sharply inhale, he glanced up, fully expecting her to be shaking with fright. Delight mingled with the lust in his eyes as he met her fierce glare. The delicious memory of his first assessment resurfaced; she was going to be fun to tame.

"If you think you can force me to stay with Dom, you're as crazy as he is!" Katie snapped with false bravado, getting into a cross-legged position and wrapping the thin blanket tightly about her.

Now with opportunity to properly observe George, Katie wasn't comforted by the fact that despite being old enough to be her father, he was tall, like Dom, with a solid physique. His shirt was tailored perfectly to fit; the definition of his arms and solid chest unconcealed. George's facial similarity to Dom was what gave Katie the most discomfort. The same features, dark eyes and Mediterranean complexion. Every time she looked at him, she was freshly reminded of all she had suffered at the hands of his son. Unlike Dom, George wasn't handsome, but he carried himself well, and possessed an air of authority by which none would question he was a very powerful man.

"Why don't you call me 'Father'?" George suggested, enjoying her frightened anger.

"There are a lot of things I could call you," Katie muttered bitterly, lowering her head to stare at the daybed's grey velvet, letting dark strands of hair curl about her face. She was angry, but she wasn't stupid. He obviously had a sexual interest in her, and engaging him in conversation might buy her time. The question was, how much time did she have? Were Mark and Cory dead?

George watched the tumble of emotions pass through Katie as her shoulders trembled. Quietly, he closed the distance between them and sat on the daybed's edge. Not hearing his approach, Katie's head jerked up in surprise when his weight added. Observing her efforts to appear unmoved by his presence, a predatory grin broke across George's face. They were less than a metre apart, and he could almost feel her suppressing the panic. A mouse trapped in a corner, warily facing the snake.

"You must be thirsty," he surmised, and turned to pour a tall glass of water from the jug on the nearby table.

Katie hesitantly accepted the glass with an unsteady hand. The liquid wobbled, the glass ridiculously heavy in her weak hold. After considering the wisdom of throwing it in George's face, she raised it to her dry lips with an effort. Nervously placing the empty glass in his waiting hand, she watched him set it back on the table. The clock was ticking, and Katie desperately tried to think of something to say. But her mind was blank with exhausted panic. The flickering candle drew her attention, and she stared past George at the flame directly, wondering how such a pretty, sweet-scented item could make her feel sick to her stomach.

Keeping his feet on the floor, George shifted closer and reached out to indulgently stroke his knuckles down Katie's thigh over the blanket. Fighting the urge to scamper backwards, she stiffened at the contact, his mere touch sending a sharp chill up her spine.

"Are you afraid of me?" he murmured, carefully watching her face.

"Yes," Katie answered truthfully. "Unless I can leave now, unscathed," she added tartly, breaking her gaze from the flame and narrowing her eyes as George laughed at her.

"Darling, I adore that you can find humour in such a moment," he chuckled, genuinely amused. "You are a rare find." Pausing thoughtfully, his smile waned. "Well, your intelligence I will gauge with time. There are certainly doubts if you found appeal in Dominique."

Surprised by George's clear contempt for his son, Katie had no reply.

"Are you educated?" George inquired.

Katie gave him the smallest of nods.

"Care to elaborate?" he prompted with a thin smile. Though his tone was polite, there was a distinct note in his voice which warned her not to answer in the negative.

"I finished school," she mumbled, eyes downcast. There was a tense silence, and Katie tried to take her mind away from where she was.

Listening carefully, she immediately noted the quiet. No outside traffic or bustle of a crowded street. Focusing harder, she could make out faint snippets of nature - birds, fresh breeze and trees rustling. If George was telling the truth, they were probably at an isolated mansion in the middle of nowhere. No population to alert to her distress, and limited means to escape the area.

"How nice," George finally responded. At Katie's continued silence, he shifted as though readying to move closer, but changed his mind. "You have one chance to elaborate, before I put you over my knee," he drawled. Meeting her startled eyes, he slightly inclined his head toward her. "And I should warn you now, if you lie, I will find out. As for the spanking, I am not joking, Katie, but by all means, test me."

"I was training to be a pilot," she said shortly.

"Impressive," he replied appreciatively, raising his eyebrows. "What category of pilot does not interest me, so I will let that detail slide. But in future, be warned that when I ask questions, I expect thorough answers." His eyes gleamed as they flickered over her features. "I am frankly astounded you never considered modelling. But that pleases me, also. Come here," he ordered, patting the empty space beside him.

Katie helplessly shook her head, unable to move. Fighting the urge to cry, her eyes shimmered liquid green as they filled with unshed tears. George stared at her grimly, expertly concealing he was thoroughly entertained.

"I could teach you..." he trailed off, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as though mildly frustrated. "But a good master is patient to start. Now, come here, please."

"A-are you going to rape me?" Katie faltered. Even if there was an escape route, she was unsure she could even stand without assistance. And she had no money, shoes, or any idea where the hell she was.

Casting her an impatient glance, George shrugged. "Not today. Now, come here. I will not ask again."

Tightly gripping the blanket, Katie slowly rose onto her knees and shuffled closer. Reaching his side, she gasped as his arm circled her waist, whilst the other ripped the blanket from her and tossed it to the ground. Her slim length was drawn tightly against him. The strength of his pull forced her legs to spread around the side of his hip, pressing her groin against him and lowering her to the height of his shoulder. With his other hand, George tilted her chin up to press a brief, firm kiss to her lips.

"Thank you. That wasn't so hard, was it?" he said huskily, drinking in her flawless beauty. In close proximity George marvelled at the different shades of green surrounding Katie's pupils as her eyes widened in alarm. "Do you know you are more beautiful than words allow?" he continued, admiringly tracing his fingers down her smooth cheek and fixing them about her jaw in a painful grip.

Forcing her mouth slightly ajar, he ran his thumb across a full bottom lip. Though dehydrated, her mouth still pouted deliciously, begging to be kissed. Naturally coloured pastel-rose, the hue of her lips reminded George of a beautiful pink-diamond necklace he'd procured for a special occasion. The exquisite rocks had glinted magnificently when he'd used them to strangle a young woman.

Though George's intentions toward Katie were by no means murderous, he had a distinct preference for the dramatic, even role-play, and loved to dress and decorate the women he used. Lowering his eyes to Katie's lovely neck, he considered what adornments would do her justice. Obviously green tones, to bring out the colour of her eyes. Emeralds, perhaps. Leather, definitely. Metal and lace. With too many elements to consider, George brought his musings to an end with a click of his tongue.

"Just like a porcelain doll," he smiled into her face. "I bet you've had men on strings your whole life." Katie whimpered as he tightened his hold. "Then you snared my son." Releasing her, he gave her cheek a sharp, playful tap. "I like it, so."

Katie shuddered with revulsion, wanting to spit in his face and call him names, not be crushed against him in an intimate embrace. She quickly realised that despite his visual likeness to Dom, George was patiently calculating. Knowing she had yet to see worst of him, filled her with dread. The one saving grace was that he hadn't ripped her clothes off, as Dom would have done by that point. But by his manner Katie sensed George's calm demeanour was a lead-up to something more sinister. George was playing with her. She was his shiny new toy.

"You can't do this," she whispered, feeling faint against the heat of his body. Wriggling uncomfortably, she blushed as her efforts to extract herself forced her to grind against his hip.

George enjoyed Katie's writhing, and his black eyes glowed as she strained away, feebly pressing her hands against the front of his shirt. The black jumper covered too much of her, and the urge to work his hand underneath and squeeze a soft, firm breast was very strong. But, as was George's way with his pleasures, he was going to take his time. Anticipation was part of the thrill. Katie would be unwrapped when he was ready.

"You could do worse, Katie," he chuckled, and in response she looked at him coldly.

"What now?" she asked. Though her chest burned with hysteria, she tried to sound casual in the hope he'd relax and release her.

"You will marry Dominique," George replied easily. "For obvious reasons, I cannot let you pursue your prior career objectives. You will have everything you desire which money can buy. But I will be your owner. You will be obedient to me. Given the inconvenience you have created, it's a good outcome for you." Noting the disgust on her face, he paused reflectively before again pinching her chin and forcing her to look up at him. "You have spent time with my son. You will quickly learn I punish more efficiently. I am not a fool. I won't lose you the way he did."

"This is insane," Katie snapped, hardly believing her ears, refusing to accept the overall nightmare of her situation. She jerked her chin out of his hold and against his chest, her hands curled into fists. "You can't force me, you fucking-!"

Without warning, George pressed forward and knocked Katie onto her back. Settling between her legs and aptly seizing her hair, Katie cried out as he roughly tugged her head back against the cushioning.

"Would you care to repeat that, darling?" he sneered into her horrified face, and lowered his head to bite her neck. Beneath him, her body twisted in pain. "I said I wouldn't rape you today," he breathed against her throat. "But you're misbehaving, Katie."

"Oh, no, stop! Please d-don't!" she gasped weakly, feeling winded, hating his hot breath on her skin. As tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, she wondered if the force of his bite had drawn blood.

"You're something of a rough diamond, Katie," he panted, releasing her hair to catch both of her wrists in one hand. Forcefully pinning her arms above her head, his free hand tauntingly trailed down her struggling torso to fiddle with the top button on her jeans.

"I'll enjoy every moment of your refinement. What fun I'm going to have with you, darling," he murmured, brushing his lips along her smooth skin. Gently, but firmly, he forced his hand down the front of her jeans and cupped her pussy. Ignoring her protests, he parted his fingers against her nakedness, spreading her pussy lips open beneath his palm.

George exhaled his irritation against Katie's throat and viciously glared at the door, as someone on the other side knocked clearly.

"HELP! PLEASE, HELP ME!" Katie screamed. Drawing breath to scream again, her cry for help died on her lips as George confidently laughed.

"Now is not the time to scream, darling. That moment will come," he mocked her. Withdrawing his hand from her pussy and releasing her wrists, George backed off the daybed and readjusted his pants, pulled tight against his obvious erection.

By this point, Katie was visibly shaking with terror. She'd never been so afraid in her life, more than when she was with Dom, more than when Greg had her cuffed to the bed. At least Cory was with her then, and she had high hopes of finding mercy in death. With Dom, she had her rebellious moments - if his threats weren't enough, he used his strength. George was different; he wasn't just going to use physical force. He was going to keep her for a lifetime, torture her, break her mind. What frightened Katie the most was not knowing what twisted uses he had planned for her.

George took a moment to appreciate Katie's trembling form. Running his eyes down her shapely legs to her bare feet, George grinned, imagining her parading for him in impossibly high stilettos. Black patent, with red soles. White suede, with a jewelled ankle. On her knees, obediently awaiting his whim. All in good time. George sighed at his fantasising and turned to the door.

"Enter!" he barked.

A young man in a navy suit stepped into the room, and George went to meet him. The man murmured and George nodded in response. Then the visitor left, without even a glance in Katie's direction. George sauntered back to Katie, and her heart leapt at his words.

"Your swains have left the ranch," he remarked.

'Oh thank God, they're alive,' Katie thought, ready to burst into fresh tears with relief. George noted the hope in her eyes, and read her mind.

"Yes, they're alive, but they have no chance of finding out where you are," he clarified, shaking his head with mock sympathy. He checked the large, silver watch on his wrist. "If they are stupid enough to come close, they're dead. It's a shame I don't have time to play with you now, Katie. But when I do, everything will be perfect." On the last word his eyes darkly roamed her body, stripping her naked.

Striding to the door, he opened it and signalled. Katie recognised the two men who entered, the one who'd smothered chloroform over her face and the other who'd punched out Gerard. Katie shrank back as they quickly approached and seized an arm each, dragging her off the daybed. George calmly went back to the papers on his desk.

"You won't get away with this!" Katie shrieked. Still half-drugged and physically exhausted, she didn't stand a chance.

"Beautifully cliche," George murmured, without looking up.

When Katie feebly raised a leg to kick Frank, he quickly seized her ankle, and she was lifted clear off the ground and carried out.

************

Mark leaned against the wall, arms folded, his dark hair slightly ruffled. Strikingly attractive as always, he was casually dressed in forest green jeans and a tight fitted black t-shirt, which darkened the blue of his eyes. Staring grimly at the ground, he completely ignored Cory, who briskly paced the small, cellar-like room to ease his agitation.

Whilst Mark maintained a front of attractive presentability, albeit sombre, Cory took no care in his appearance whatsoever. The orange-toned shirt clashed atrociously with his pale-blue jeans. These colour choices, combined with the torment written all over his face, did no justice whatsoever to his normally remarkable complexion. Still undeniably handsome, Cory's features were strained, his gold-toned eyes dulled by dark circles from lack of sleep.

"This is a bad idea," Cory growled, running both hands through his sandy blonde buzzcut for the hundredth time. Mark moved from the wall and paused Cory's stride, laying a restraining hand on his shoulder in an effort to calm him.

"It's the best shot we have," Mark said lowly. "We talked about this." Cory's expression gave him little comfort; twisted with impatience, rage and anxiety.

Cory's retort was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and a few seconds later the door swung open.

The first man was very tall, with long, ash-brown hair neatly tied in a ponytail. He had gold-toned eyes like Cory, dominated by shades of turquoise. His companion was pale-skinned with jet-black hair and although above average height, appeared short amongst the three unusually tall men. There was a distinct twinkle in his grey eyes, hinting he didn't take himself too seriously. Both were clearly athletic and uniformly dressed in tightly-fitted black long-sleeve shirts and black ski-pants.

Bellie444
Bellie444
1,847 Followers