The Ranch Ch. 09

Realising she'd been conned into discussion, Katie resolutely shut her mouth. Begging would get her nowhere, and she sensed George enjoyed her interaction on some perverse level. Surprisingly, for a man who objectified her to an extreme, he encouraged her to talk.

Placing his glass aside, George approached again. Katie was too delicious to be merely watched from a distance. Circling like a shark, George ignored her irritated exhale. He stroked her smooth skin, inspected every inch of her as though contemplating a new purchase, as though she was a horse or a car, not a person.

George needed her to understand she was there purely for his own gratification. He wanted to accomplish a taboo arrangement -- father in public, Master in private. It was far-fetched, but he would enjoy the challenge as much as the victory. Perhaps he cherished the battle more than the victory. Perhaps he would prefer not to win at all, he wasn't sure.

The door opened without notice, and Dom abruptly paused his stride at the sight of Katie, trussed up and laid bare to his father.

"The-the-" Dom stuttered, taking in the bizarre sight. Closing his eyes, he recalled his purpose. "It's twelve-o-clock."

"Is it?" George didn't look at his son, continuing his examination with a neutral smile. But his eyes glinted maliciously.

"I was told to come to your office, at twelve today," Dom said curtly, an angry flush rising along his cheekbones.

"Me?" George mildly replied, finally glancing up. "No, my boy." Returning to Katie, he bent close to her face and gripped her chin.

Dom caught a bruised lip between his teeth as he darkly watched his father's attentions to Katie.

"Be sure to knock next time, Dominique," George softly reproved, before tracing Katie's full upper lip with his tongue. "I was having a private conversation with Katie," he teased, as though they were intimate. Then he leaned closer and brushed his lips across hers.

"Like rose petals," he whispered tauntingly, and Katie shuddered with hatred, jaw clenched with her mouth firmly closed to him.

"And sweetly prudish. You never taught her to open-mouth kiss, Dominique?" Looking up, he appreciated the pained desire on his son's face as he watched Katie with wide eyes.

"Oh, she was wasted on you," George sneered with contempt.

Narrowing his eyes, he surveyed Dominque's torment, hoping his son wasn't such a fool to fall in love. That aside, he was still deeply angry with Dom for concealing Katie's existence and the overall jeopardy he'd created by being secretive. George was not a forgiving man.

Moving behind Katie, he got onto the ottoman and seized her bare hips, briskly tugging her back toward him. Then he retrieved a small pair of scissors and carefully severed some of the delicate materials.

Soon Katie's ankles were no longer bound to her hands, though her plait remained entwined with her wrists, keeping her docile. Before she could think, George was straddling her, spreading her cheeks with both hands.

"No-!" Katie uttered, trying to pull her hair free, wincing as parts of the plait pinched her scalp, refusing to yield. George shifted behind her, fumbling with his trousers.

"Should I leave this on? I don't see why not," he mused, plucking the satin g-string, his fingertips trailing down the pearls against her pussy. "Delightful," he remarked breathily, tracing his hard cock up and down Katie's pussy and the pearl lining.

"Such a fine acquisition, Dominique. I'm impressed, almost proud." Finally, George looked to his son. "You may leave, if you wish."

There was no point begging. Katie clenched her teeth as George slowly pressed his bare cock against her opening, and slowly penetrated her, continuing until he was buried to the hilt and she was filled completely. His hands caressed her waist as he paused inside her, his breathing unsettled. Then slowly, he pulled out until just the head of his cock held her open.

"Exquisite, as I've always said," he sighed, looking down and watching his cock disappear between the pearl border. "You belong to me now, darling." Then he reached forward and knocked the cushion from beneath her chin, so Dominique could see her decorated breasts.

Katie angrily grunted with each slow thrust, gently rocking with George's movements. The position made it impossible to resist him, her thighs were trapped so she couldn't dig her heels into his back. She could feel Dom watching, sensed his eyes heatedly travelling across every bare inch of her humiliating nudity.

"Watch the clock, Katie," George panted. Earlier, he'd deliberately positioned a small, silver clock on a stool in front of the ottoman she faced. "Maybe by the time I finish, you'll like it."

Katie grit her teeth and snapped her eyes closed.

"Ummh," George quietly moaned, carefully pacing himself not to come early. The sight before him was almost too much, and there were so many depraved things he wanted to do with the young woman he slowly violated. Katie gasped with surprise when George suddenly broke his rhythm and thrust hard and deep into her.

"I like to hear you breathe," he commented by way of explanation. "I cannot wait to make you squeal."

The moment was bad enough without George's verbal taunting, and Katie's smooth body tremored as she fought fast approaching tears. But she was strong-willed, and determined not to cry.

"I want to use your beautiful mouth, Katie," George continued, watching her involuntary shudder and strain against her wrist ties. "I can't wait to have you on your knees before me, waiting." He chuckled, suspecting but not entirely sure she'd quietly growled through clenched teeth.

"You are free to talk," George taunted throughout his thrusts. "There's no need to be shy." This time he was certain she grunted angrily.

The nasty smile curving his lips widened into a full grin as he picked up pace, pressing her forward onto the ottoman with a huff on every stroke of his cock inside her. Glancing down, he gripped one bare cheek with his hand to spread it wide. Watching his cock enter and withdraw, his other hand moved in circle her ass with one finger.

Katie broke her silence with a snarl as George's index finger slowly pushed into her ass, feeling the length of his cock through the thin wall as he continued pounding her. As he moved to the first knuckle, Katie angrily cried out, her whole body fiercely tensed. As she seized up, George admired the muscles in her thighs, her perfect buttocks pushed into rounder shape as she fought his invasion. His eyes travelled up her trim waist, watching strings of diamond across her back glitter with their movements as though cheering him on, celebrating his triumph over her.

Then George came hard, brutally clenching his hand on her buttock, cruelly digging his fingers into her baby-soft skin as he forcefully strained against her, grunting. Aghast, Katie's eyes widened as she felt his cock spurt several shots of cum inside her, and then his warm mouth on her ear.

"My cum is inside you. Pregnant, or not? We will find out," he whispered tauntingly. "You see? I am unpredictable, Katie. In this modern day and age, it won't matter if you have my baby in your belly when you marry my son. Perhaps it will endear you to me..." he broke off and laughed loudly at the unlikelihood of his words. Then he remembered Dom.

"Still here, my boy?" he remarked a little tiredly, turning to Dom with his cock still inside Katie. "Quite touching that you might be present for the conception of your half-brother or sister."

Straight as spear, Dom stalked from the room. It was only by the plan in motion to extract him from this torture, that he could harness his self-control and leave the room without attacking his father.

At the same time, he couldn't ignore the fact that he was granted permission to leave, yet chose to stay. Unlike the first occasion, this time he willingly remained to watch, he wanted to. George was slowly desensitizing him. With shame, he realised his lust for Katie knew few bounds and was undeterred by the perversion he'd witnessed. His cock was rock hard after watching his father fuck his fiancé.

George smiled at the door, left ajar after Dom's exit. Rising to his feet to do up his pants, he looked down at Katie. She was almost hysterical, he could tell by the shuddering rise and fall of her smooth shoulders as she took deep measured breaths to calm herself.

"One day, I will ask what you are thinking, and you will give me an honest answer," he said, tilting his head at her. "But let me guess, darling," he murmured, tugging his belt into place and moving to stand before her.

Katie was too angry to ignore him, and she glared back so fiercely, George was momentarily distracted by the burning green of her eyes.

"What a beautiful fire in you," he marvelled, crouching down. Gripping her long plait, he forced her face toward the light so he could better admire her features, the green colour of her eyes fluid with tears. Keeping a tight fist on her plait, enough to make her wince and to assert his authority, George leaned closer.

"You're wondering how you will ever get out of this dark rabbit-hole you've stumbled into," he breathed against her cheek, feeling an involuntary shiver ripple through her body. "You're especially wondering how that could be possible with a baby in your belly."

"I'm wondering when you will get what you deserve," Katie managed a scathing retort with an effort, her voice heavily thickened with tears. Clamping her mouth shut before a sob could escape, she wanted to say so much more, but resumed deep-breathing, aware she was on the verge of breaking into uncontrollable tears.

George paused as, unexpectedly, Katie's unyielding spirit triggered a strange reminiscent feeling. Instead of enjoying her tortured rebellion, George's curious mind whirled to recollect the last time a woman in Katie's dire position dared speak to him so insolently. The women George played with were already broken by circumstance, and for reasons of discretion, that circumstance had been a necessity.

Minerva

Startled, George experienced slight vertigo, prompted by an old memory and realisation. The last woman who dared take that tone with him, knowing she could only lose, was Dominique's mother.

Katie sensed something was amiss, but had no idea what suddenly beset her tormentor. It certainly wasn't her sass - she knew her baited reactions only amused him.

Before she could ponder it further, the cold, sharp edge of a needle pressed into her shoulder. Numb, relaxation followed.

"This is not a permanent routine," George said, recovering from his emotions. "Just for my own peace of mind, until I decide how I want things to be."

He gently stroked her cheek, brushing his fingertips toward her lush mouth. "I'll have you cleaned and put to bed, little plaything."

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

"What the fuck are you doing?" Stanley asked. Eyes glued to the laptop screen in front of him, he could see Frank moving bizarrely from the corner of his eye.

Frank stretched his arms upwards, clawing at the empty space above him.

"I am drawing strength from the heavens, to stop me going into that room," he answered. Dropping his arms on a wistful sigh, his palms clapped against his thighs.

"Why don't you just think what George will do to you instead?" Stanley chuckled, snapping the laptop lid down, and swivelling in his seat to face Frank. Glancing to the locked door, he pondered their captive on the other side.

"She's bangable," he said thoughtfully, before shrugging a dismissive shoulder. "Personally, I prefer girls with more meat on them."

"She's super bangable," Frank retorted. "She has meat in all the right places. Do you think if I went in-"

"Do you want to die? That's the question you should be asking." Stanley smirked, tossing a golf ball from one hand to the other.

Both men straightened in their seats as they heard approaching footsteps, and a moment later the door swung open. Dom stalked in and slammed both palms on Stanley's desk.

"Where is my father?" he snapped at Stanley, before rolling a fiery eye in Frank's direction. Frank couldn't resist flinching as he recalled the hallway incident.

"Business." Stanley showed no fear. News spread, and even the kitchen staff knew how George asserted authority over his son.

"Well, I have a problem, and I need your help." Dom's dark eyes couldn't resist moving to the door behind Frank.

"Ask someone else," Stanley bluntly replied.

An angry silence followed, and Frank wished he could slink from the room unnoticed.

"Let's not beat about it, Dom," Stanley smoothly continued in the face of Dom's seething fury. "You're not stupid. You're not allowed into the room, and we can't let you in. We all have something to lose here. Just stay out of trouble, for once."

"I'm not here for her," Dom snarled. "We all know I'll get her, eventually."

Stanley smiled thinly. It was true Dom would inevitably get Katie back. But George's son was impatient, spoiled and impulsive. And they were under strict instructions.

"Besides, if you're with me, how would I get into the room?" Dom mocked, his eyes flashing with malice.

'Over our dead bodies', Frank thought, shrinking into his chair.

"How can we assist you, Dom?" Stanley asked serenely, though he gripped the golf-ball with a white fist.

Dom stood to his full height and jammed his hands into his jeans. "Follow me."

"No." Stanley was highly suspicious. "What do you need help with?"

Hands still in his pockets, Dom bent his tall frame until his face was mere inches from Stanley's.

"There's a body in my room, and I need you to get rid of it," he whispered nastily, before straightening with a smug smile.

"Who is it?" Stanley asked, carefully placing the golf-ball on the desk between them. "And how did they get on the property?"

"I have my ways. Hurry up." Dom turned on his heel and left the room.

Stanley stood to follow him, and pointed at Frank as he began to rise. "Stay here. He's lying."

"But, what if there is a body?" Frank wondered, still awed by Stanley's composure in the face of Dom's ferocity.

"I'll be more worried if there isn't," Stanley grunted, rifling through his pockets. Handing Frank a slip of paper, he gave the door behind him a hard stare. "I don't like this at all. I haven't liked much since she turned up. Call George."

Frank sighed at the sound of fading footsteps and glanced down at the paper in his hand.

"That kid needs an exorcism," he mumbled to himself, dialling.

"I'm in a meeting. Is this urgent?" George's impatient, clipped tones answered on the third ring.

"Stanley wanted you to know...that...I...I...I-," Frank stuttered, feeling the cold, circular end of a barrel press against his forehead.

"George...I..." He raised horrified eyes to Greg grinning down at him.

Greg was just over average height, but seemed intimidatingly tall and muscular in a tight black shirt and army pants. His blonde hair had grown slightly longer and curled wildly about his ears.

Holding the gun firm in one hand, Greg warningly pressed a gloved finger against his lips. His light brown eyes gleamed with menacing challenge.

"What the fuck does Stanley want me to know?" George snapped. "This better not be about the girl."

"No, not that," Frank said weakly, sweat pouring down his temples. He didn't have it in him to lie convincingly to George, so he ended the call without ceremony.

Greg held out his hand, and Frank's life flashed before his eyes as placed his phone in the gloved palm. Though they'd shared the occasional joke, Frank knew what Greg was. And now they were on opposite sides of a nasty conflict.

"Smart man. I'd have zapped you a second later." Greg lowered the gun, and Frank realised he'd been holding his breath. Greg gestured to the door with his gun. "She in there?"

Frank nodded helplessly, unable to take his eyes off the weapon.

"I don't want to kill you, Frank. You're more fun than most of the bozos around here," Greg said softly. "Besides, you'll have your own problems with bossman after this."

Before Frank could respond, Greg smashed him in the face with the gun. Peering down at Frank's bloodied face, Greg contemplated a second go. But he didn't have much time. Quietly stepping over Frank, Greg tried the door, then extracted the lock kit from his pocket.

Even in her disturbed sleep, Katie knew something was wrong, and she groggily struggled to regain consciousness.

The drugs were strong, but beginning to wear off. An uncomfortable moment passed, she sensed a malevolent presence beside her. Unable to open her eyes, she could only make out a large figure by the bed. Then a warm hand gently squeezed her hip, made its way up her belly and settled around the underside of her right breast.

Someone was softly touching her, but it made her feel sick. It was a familiar aroma of sweat, the distinct scent of a man's skin. Whether it was one of the nightmares that frequently tormented her, or reality, she needed to wake up and make it stop.

The hand at her breast tickled, drawing slow irksome circles around her nipple, forcing it to harden sensitively. She fought to open her eyes, and finally saw the fuzzy, white ceiling above her, clouded by her drooping, heavy eyelids.

She could make out the dark blur of a man at her side, with his face sniffing at her shoulder, trailing his wet tongue up her collarbone and neck. A large, coarse hand jammed down her pants, fingers roughly stroking and pinching her pussy.

Katie softly whined, shuddering with revulsion, but her limbs were too heavy to do more. The man chuckled and continued his torment, and above her, the ceiling became brighter and clearer. Not white. Pale blue.

"Ohh..." Katie moaned, groggily realising her surroundings, but failing to comprehend her predicament.

Growing more alert, she prayed it wasn't Dom, or George. The only person on the planet worse than those two would be...

"Wake up, sweetie," Greg whispered, clapping a hand over Katie's mouth to muffle her anticipated scream. "I wish we had time to play," he continued, mildly regretful he had to quieten her and miss the delicious sound of genuine horror as she discovered it was him. His dark eyes flashed wickedly as they traced up and down her delicious body. There was a score to pay, and he would take his time with it.

In Katie's mind she frantically thrashed about, but in reality only managed a few futile thumps against Greg's solid shoulder as he effortlessly hoisted her up and carried her out.

Dom was waiting out the back with the engine running, casting furtive glances to the security camera looming above him as Greg emerged with Katie.

Greg dropped Katie into the boot, slamming it down with satisfaction. Striding to the passenger side, he followed Dom's gaze and shrugged at the camera.

"He won't check till he gets the bad news," he remarked, getting into the car. "This is it. There really is no going back from this."

"I would never go back," Dom growled, clenching his teeth as he remembered recent events. "I hope he has a heart attack. I hope-"

"I hope her pussy is as tight as before," Greg grinned, casting a sneaky sideways glance to see Dom's knuckles turn white on the wheel.

"Don't aggravate me," Dom warned, trying to focus on the road.

"Don't boss me. We have a deal."

Dom grit his teeth. Greg's company as his policing 'partner' had served them well at a time they could get away with almost anything, with access to insurmountable funds. Things always have a way of turning sour when there's a lot on the line, with less to gain.

It was true. Greg needed his money, and Dom needed Greg's help. It was a precarious balance. It didn't need to be said that as soon as one of them became expendable, the other would take advantage. Dom was a selfish, violent brat, but Greg was a whole other kind of predator, and Dom was ever wary of his capabilities, especially now he didn't have the threat of his father to keep Greg in check.