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Begging to Be Owned by Emily Tilton – Sample

Chapter One

Begging to Be OwnedOlivia Rogers’ life changed forever in the blink of an eye, in the parking lot of a big-box store, after she had emerged into the snowy air carrying a bag of ice-melter much too heavy for her to handle easily, and a tall, pleasant-looking man who seemed about to enter the store offered to carry it to her car for her.

Pleasant-looking, but also built like a linebacker or a fireman and possessing a rock-hard jaw. She had almost snapped that she was fine before she noticed the jaw with its blue-black stubble. Jared, her boyfriend, might not like it if she let this man help her—well, really, he might not like it if she let him help her and then struck up a conversation with him the way it had suddenly come into her mind to do.

Because Jared could seriously go to hell, right? No, that wasn’t fair, because Jared was so sweet. But the man who had just offered to carry the fifty-pound bag of melter might be sweet, too. And he had pecs and biceps that bulged in the long-sleeved black T-shirt he wore without a jacket despite the thirty-degree temperature.

“Thanks,” she said as he took the bag from her as if it were a sack of marshmallows.

“Where’s your car?” Even in the outside air his voice seemed to surround her with its rumble.

“Um, over there.” Olivia pointed, not knowing why the gesture felt silly, unless something about the man with her ice-melter in his hands made everything about her seem foolish.

“The black sedan?”

“No, the yellow hatchback.” That feeling of foolishness again. Why?

“Cute,” the man said, seeming to mean it.

Olivia felt herself blushing. “Thanks.” She did love her zippy little car. Suddenly she didn’t feel silly. “I’m Olivia.”

Stupid, when she had a boyfriend? No. Jared could go to hell. Especially since she had a very strong suspicion that Jared had bought a ring, and her feelings about him and the ring and everything it represented seemed impossible to sort out. She loved him: yes, of course Olivia loved Jared, and the things she thought about when she had what she called, to herself, alone-time and even sometimes when Jared dutifully brought her to orgasm with his hand, after missionary-position sex, would go away once they got married. What she and Jared did in bed was what everyone did in bed, wasn’t it?

She would definitely not think about the night in the hot tub, after the dinner party, when she had gotten carried away and somehow had found Jared taking her from behind, the shameful pleasure overwhelming her senses. She had put a stop to that the next night when Jared said the silly thing about sucking his cock.

“I’m Gabriel,” said the man as they began to walk the fifty feet to the car.

Olivia’s keys in her hand, pressing the button to open the trunk.

A blue van, turning into the row where Olivia was telling Gabriel just to put the melter on top of the old blanket.

Gabriel, putting the melter in the trunk. Olivia, wondering if she should just give him her number or hope that he would ask for it in the thirty seconds that seemed to represent the complete remainder of her time with Gabriel unless he asked for it, or she provided it.

Deciding that she wouldn’t; that she loved Jared, had invested two years in her relationship with Jared, would marry Jared.

The blue van, stopping behind them. Its door sliding open.

Gabriel saying, “Olivia, what’s going to happen now will frighten you. I want you to understand that in the end you’ll be a great deal happier than you would have been if you hadn’t been chosen for pickup.”

His huge hand, plucking the keys from her surprised, only half-resisting fingers. A nondescript man emerging from the van and taking the keys from Gabriel, moving toward the driver’s-side door.

Gabriel putting his hand over her mouth and picking her up like the same sack of marshmallows, or feathers, the bag of melter had become in his hands. Handing her to other, unseen men in the passenger compartment of the van.

The door closing, slammed shut by Gabriel. The van moving. Out the rear window, Olivia’s zippy little hatchback, pulling out and driving away.

Olivia tried to scream, “Oh, God,” but it came out as a choked, tiny sound.

They had set her on a padded bench that ran the length of the van’s passenger section. Gabriel sat down next to her. She looked up into his face, which still seemed so pleasant. On another bench seat, facing the rear of the van, sat two more men, in hoods that covered their faces, though their dark eyes glittered in the eyeholes.

“What…?” she tried.

“Take off your clothes, Olivia,” Gabriel said calmly. “All of them. Right now.”

“Oh, please. Please. Don’t.” Her mind couldn’t seem to grasp any of what had happened. “Why?”

“Last chance before we strip you ourselves and you have your first punishment for disobeying my order. I want you naked, Olivia, so you’re going to be naked now. That’s the reason: your nakedness will please me.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Olivia whispered. There. A sentence.

“I think you can guess,” Gabriel said in the same pleasant voice.

Olivia quailed back into the side of the van. Yes, obviously: that would be why they wanted her naked. Sex. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to her.

Or, truly, it had occurred to her—of course it had occurred to her. But… She forced her mind away from that train of thought.

She said, “Oh, no. Please, no.” She swallowed hard, looking into Gabriel’s implacable green eyes. “Maybe I could… Maybe I could do something else?”

Her eyes darted around the van, to each of the hooded men, back to Gabriel. Gabriel said, “You’re going to do everything, Olivia, and have everything done to you. Everything you’ve imagined you might have to do and to undergo, if a man like me were to choose you, to belong to him. As your training proceeds you’ll understand just how foolish you’re being right now, thinking you might get away by sucking a few cocks and pretending you don’t like it, the way you pretend with your boyfriend when he asks for a blowjob and you say ‘No.’”

Olivia felt her mouth open in astonishment. To belong to a man: the terrible idea she had made Jared promise he wasn’t interested in, in a relationship. The terrible idea from that night, at the party, in the bathroom, before the hot tub. “How…?”

“How do I know about that, Olivia?” Gabriel said. “When I just met you?”

Olivia nodded mutely. The van, which had been stopping and starting as if in town traffic, suddenly sped up. Distracted, Olivia looked through the rear window again and saw that they were getting onto the interstate.

“Where are you taking me?” she whispered. She looked at the hooded men, sitting impassively, then back to Gabriel, who wore an amused expression.

“I’ll answer both your questions, and more, as well, once you’re naked and I’ve spanked you soundly for your disobedience.” He nodded to the other men, and suddenly everything in the van seemed a blur of motion.

Gabriel held her tightly around her shoulders and waist as the other men stripped down Olivia’s jeans and took them off. He held her arms while one of the others held her waist, so that the third could pull off her sweater and then her T-shirt.

Olivia cried out, of course, and struggled, but it seemed so futile, and it happened so fast, that when she sat on the bench in her mismatched beige bra and black thong panties, her clothes deposited in the far corner of the van where they seemed to accuse her of not trying harder to avoid being stripped naked, she felt strangely like it was almost normal. Then she thought of Gabriel saying everything, and she shuddered. Had she meant that she would suck these men’s penises if they promised to let her go? Had Gabriel meant that she would have to do that? And more?

Sucking a few cocks and pretending you don’t like it. She shuddered again.

“If you take off your underwear,” Gabriel said. “I’ll only spank you with my hand. If we have to take it off for you, you’ll get the punishment strap.” Olivia watched in horrified fascination as he reached under the bench into a storage compartment and brought out a length of stiff leather with a wooden handle.

“I know there’s a part of you,” Gabriel continued relentlessly, “that wants to know what this strap feels like, Olivia. I advise you not to give into that part right now. You’ll feel the strap soon enough, I’m sure, but for now it’s very important that you learn to obey me. Take off your underwear.”

“Please don’t spank me,” Olivia whispered. “I’ll… I’ll be good.”

“I’m going to spank you either way, honey. It’s time for you to feel a man’s firm hand on your little bottom, to start getting you ready for your new life.”

Honey. New life. The words whirled around her mind.

She looked at the strap in his hand. No, of course she didn’t want to know what it felt like. Did she?

Long and black, stitched from several layers of leather, obviously. If a man punished you with it over his lap, you would have to suck his cock, and then bend over when he told you to, so that he could use you the way men with straps used girls. Or he would make you bend over a desk, the arm of a couch, or a bed, before he whipped you with the strap. Then he would just lower his pants, take hold of your hips, and thrust inside, whether you wanted to have sex or not.

She looked down at her bare knees. She reached her hands behind her to unhook her bra.

“Good girl,” Gabriel said. “You made the right choice.”

Olivia didn’t look up at him as she shrugged the bra off. One of the hooded men took it and put in the corner. The pavement of the interstate was uneven for a moment, and Olivia drew a quick breath as her breasts bounced a bit with the motion of the van. Her little pink nipples, on C-cup breasts, stood straight out.

Gabriel put his left hand out to take her right breast in his fingers, run his thumb over the nipple. “Very nice.”

At that simple gesture, everything became terribly, terribly complicated for Olivia. She closed her eyes and moaned, and she felt herself grow warm between her thighs; much warmer than she had ever, ever been for Jared. “Please,” she whispered. “I have a boyfriend.”

“I know,” Gabriel said. “You’re going to have to forget him. You belong to us now. Take off your panties.”

“No, please,” she whispered, thinking of Jared, wondering what he would think if he could see the way she had taken off her bra for this man, the way her body had responded to him touching her nipple.

Gabriel sighed. Then he reached out and took hold of her, and placed her across his jean-covered lap. Before she could even think to try to resist, he had his left leg across both of her knees, and he was pulling her panties down to the middle of her thighs.

He put his hand on her bottom and gave a little squeeze that made Olivia whimper. Her chestnut hair had fallen all around her face as she looked at the floor of the van, which was covered in blue carpet. Now Gabriel, with the hand not on her backside, smoothed it all to the left side of her neck, perhaps so that he could see her face while he punished her.

Punished her.

“Your first spanking is a special moment, honey,” Gabriel said. “I’m not going to give you the strap because you did take off your bra. We both know you can be a very good girl for me and my associates. While I spank you, I want you to think about what it means to be naked with three strong men, whose cocks get hard when a pretty girl like you gets the discipline she has coming.”

Then, with his left hand, he started to spank her. Did he know somehow that it was indeed her very first spanking? Or did he just guess it, since most adults in the modern world hadn’t ever been spanked?

Olivia made little whining noises at the pain, as the sharp slaps rang out in the speeding van. It hurt, but the part she hadn’t guessed at was the way it felt to be upended over a man’s strong lap with your bottom bare, your pussy naked, though hidden, rubbing on the fabric of his pants. She had misbehaved; she had disobeyed. Now a man who could enforce his will with his muscular frame had taken down her panties to teach her a needed lesson.

Olivia Rogers needed a spanking, so Gabriel put her over his lap, bared her bottom, and punished her as naughty girls ought to be punished.

Now, as her whole backside must be turning bright red, the spanks did start to really hurt, and Olivia began to struggle helplessly over Gabriel’s thigh. “Please! No more!” she cried.

“Your master decides when your punishment is over, honey,” Gabriel said, and kept spanking, until Olivia was sobbing, her left hand gripped tightly in Gabriel’s right atop the small of her back.

Then it did stop, and Gabriel had begun to rub her blazing cheeks instead of spanking them.

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