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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / The Predator’s Pet by Vonna Harper – Extended Preview

The Predator’s Pet by Vonna Harper – Extended Preview

Mr. Dalton had made it clear she was to present herself at his front door a little after dawn. Feeling hungover after a few fitful hours of sleep, she’d taken a shower and put on one of her newer blouses. Thinking he might make good on his threat to order her onto her hands and knees, she opted for jeans so her knees would be somewhat protected. However he might command her to strip.

Of course he would, she told herself as she forced down a piece of dry toast. He intended for both of them to see her as his pet.

For her to call him Master.

It took more courage than she wanted to admit to ring the doorbell. After a short wait, he opened the door.

“The pets in this house enter from the back,” he said, his expression grim. “I’m surprised I have to spell that out to you.”

It didn’t have to be this way! No matter how heartfelt her rationale for why she’d done what she had, she understood the ramifications of disobeying him. Unfortunately, she was certain he still wasn’t in a mood to listen to her apology.

“Yes, Master.”

When he closed the door, she clenched her fingers and mustered the courage to do as he’d demanded. Randy and Gordon, who were on their way to one of the storage sheds, waved. She managed a wave in return. They might be the new employees along with her, but given the strength of gossip, they’d probably heard how she’d run afoul of Mr. Dalton. Maybe she should be grateful Mr. Dalton—Master—intended to discipline her inside, but he might change his mind.

She had to wait the better part of a minute for him to answer her knock at the back door. As for whether he’d done so deliberately or work had interrupted him, it didn’t matter. She hadn’t noticed before, but he had on a white short-sleeved shirt with a collar, slacks, and the kind of shoes not designed for walking on dirt or grass. His agenda beyond dealing with her was none of her business yet she couldn’t help but stare at what she could see of his chest and arms, which was a lot as far as her nervous system was concerned. He’d left the top three buttons on his shirt undone, exposing sun-darkened flesh. Rich brown hairs dusted his forearms, his very muscular forearms if she was being honest. In short, the man exuded sex.

“In here.” He indicated the main part of the house.

Her mouth tightly closed, she did as he’d ordered. He followed close behind. Given his limitless options where her body was concerned, she couldn’t say why she’d bothered with underpants or a bra. Maybe she’d wanted to try to remind him that she was a woman, not an animal.

“Clothes off.”

This wasn’t happening. Only, it was.

Her back to the commanding presence, she reached for the top button on her blouse.

“No! Don’t start off by getting on my bad side. You know what I want.”

She could have pointed out that she wasn’t a mind reader, but she grasped that he intended to watch her undress. When she faced him, one corner of his mouth lifted. Other than that, he revealed nothing of what he was thinking as he leaned against the closest wall. She thought they were in the living room, but the house was so large she couldn’t be sure. The furnishings were expensive, the floor a reddish hardwood. Her knees ached just thinking about how hard it would feel.

Under his relentless scrutiny, she unbuttoned, followed by drawing the blouse off her shoulders. He hadn’t said what he wanted her to do with the garment so she draped it over the closest piece of furniture, which happened to be a dark brown couch. The longer she remained in the opulent room, the more it closed in on her, but that was nothing compared to the effort it took not to shrink from his hard gaze.

Her sandals came next. Fortunately she managed to kick them off without having to bend over. That done, she tackled her jeans. At any moment he might order her to take off her bra but she’d hold onto what little modesty she had left for as long as she could.

He made her feel alive. Maybe being on acreage devoted to meat eaters factored in but she suspected much of her reaction was a result of how he scrutinized her. In the middle of the night, she’d told herself she’d get through whatever he intended followed by doing the job she’d been brought here to accomplish. She’d keep her emotions and reactions locked up, survive one hour or moment at a time.

Now that she was in his house and he was watching her remove her jeans, she doubted her ability to focus on anything except this moment.


As she placed her jeans next to her blouse, he tilted his head to the side. Propelled by his unspoken command, she reached behind her and unfastened her bra. Instead of wanting to beg him to change his mind, it was as if she was watching herself from a distance. Her breasts were what she considered average, a C despite her slight build. So far gravity hadn’t altered them. She’d stopped being self-conscious of them—until now.

Something changed as she exposed herself, insight perhaps. He was in charge but he must be reacting to what she’d revealed to him. Women’s breasts fascinated men. Maybe not as much as what was between their legs, but they were enough to snag a man’s attention. She’d use that to her advantage, distract him from what he felt she needed in the way of correction.

Buoyed by desperate determination, she turned getting rid of her bra into a strip show. She’d gotten as far as sliding the first strap over her shoulder when his stare became a glower.

“It isn’t going to work, pet. The longer you take to comply, the longer the correction will last.”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“What did I tell you about apologizing?”

Think. “That—you don’t want me to.”


She was sure he’d order her to get back to business. Instead, judging by how he now regarded her, she wondered if he wanted to be done dealing with her. He’d do what he had planned for her then get on with his day. Much as she hated being dismissed, she didn’t have a say. She’d displeased the man she had to call Master. Nothing else factored in.

Trying to keep her expression impassive, she revealed her breasts. When he said nothing, she fought the crazy impulse to ask about his reaction to them. The longer she was in his presence, the more his self-control impressed her.

Removing her panties was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She was so darned confused. Shouldn’t she resent what she was forced to do so much that nothing else mattered? Instead she wondered what his plans for her were and how she’d react. The earlier spanking had turned her on. No way could she deny that.

But it might be different this time. All punishment and no pleasure.

“I’m going to let you anticipate and process. I have no interest in your opinion of my methods. I might later so I suggest you focus as best you can on your reactions and responses.”

“I’ll try, Master.” She wasn’t sure why she’d spoken.

“I’m certain you will.” He pointed. “Go into that room.”

Until now she hadn’t noticed the partly closed door to her right. Dreading what she’d find in there, she made her way to it. The blinds were closed, the light off, but thanks to the illumination from the room she’d been in, she spotted a narrow bed, a couple of straight-backed chairs, a dresser, and a cage much like the one the tigress had been trapped in, only smaller.

Mr. Dalton came up behind her, planted his hands on her shoulders, and propelled her into the room. He shut the door behind him, leaving them in darkness. For the first time she was scared of him.

“I called you a pet. Why did I?”

Locked in place by bombarding emotions, she swallowed repeatedly. “You said a pet needs training and sometimes correction.”

“What’s the purpose of that training and correction?”

“So—the pet will obey.”

“Don’t for a minute forget. Your lesson will continue until you’ve demonstrated that obeying me has become second nature to you.”

Lesson. Obey.

“Step one,” he said, “is to get you in position.”

He pushed her. She hated not being able to see where she was going. When her knees connected with something, she stopped.

“Climb onto it. It’s firmer than most mattresses, but then it isn’t designed for sleeping.”

After quickly exploring what she could reach with her hands, she did as he’d commanded. She was on her hands and knees with her ass undoubtedly within his reach. Hopefully he wouldn’t spank her in the dark, because if he missed his target, he might hit a part of her with little or no padding.

He ran his hands over her sides from thighs to shoulders and back. Next he stroked her legs, his fingers traveling down the outsides then up her inner legs. He stopped just short of her pussy. His fingers lingered. She shivered, panted, fought for sanity.


Although she hated the command, she did as he’d ordered. He’d taken the better part of a minute exploring so much of her body. She felt keen loss when he patted her ass and announced the time had come to implement his discipline method.

When he turned on a low wattage lamp, for a moment, she couldn’t see. As her eyes adjusted, she tasked herself with taking careful note of her surroundings. One of the chairs bore a striking resemblance to what she thought of as his spanking chair. In contrast, the other, a recliner, looked as if someone could comfortably sit in it for hours. The arms, seat, and back were well-padded, the fabric obviously expensive. What she’d initially thought of as a dresser was narrow, a good five feet tall, and sturdily constructed. The double doors were closed. It might have nothing to do with what was going to take place here, but it might.

She tried looking back at him but he’d positioned himself so she could only see part of his right shoulder. He had to be doing that on purpose. Fine. She wouldn’t risk wrenching her neck.

“Have you figured out why the bed is as firm as it is?” he asked.

“Ah, for support.”

“And why would that be necessary?”

The tingling in her backside made her suspect he was studying that part of her anatomy. From what she’d been able to tell from looking in her bathroom mirror, her ass was no longer marked, but probably he was remembering.

“So I don’t risk losing my balance? I won’t sink into this mattress.”

“Wise deduction.”

He placed his hands on her ass, forcing a gasp from her. He’d referred to her as a pet. One thing she was certain of was she wasn’t a wild animal. If she’d been, she would have leaped from the bed and put all her strength into getting away.

“So far I’m impressed with your obedience.” He worked a finger between her ass cheeks. “Maybe I should call your reaction a matter of self-control. Makes me curious to determine how far I can push you.”

Much as she wanted to assure herself that he might not be talking about punishment, she didn’t dare lose focus.

“You don’t look like a pet,” he said with his fingertip against her asshole. “I have to do something about it. What would you suggest?”

Please don’t try to push your finger inside me. No one has ever done that. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, I think you do.” Finger still in place, he slapped the inside of her calf, letting her know he expected her to widen her stance. “Have you ever had a pet?”

Her attention on the closed drapes, she shook her head. “No.”

“Your parents—”

“Wouldn’t let my brothers and me have one.”

“Why not?”

I can’t go there. “A lot of reasons. I’d love to have a dog, but I don’t have a place for it.”

“You would if you had something like that cage.”

Trepidation raced through her. Her attempt to ignore the cage’s presence wasn’t working. Her head as high as possible, she focused on the sensation he was creating. Little by little the pressure against her anal opening increased. She didn’t know how he could get a finger inside her but believed he’d try.

“You haven’t answered my question about your suggestions regarding what I need to do in order for you to resemble a pet. Concentrate.”

How could she focus on anything except that awful yet exciting pressure? She had Master’s attention. There was just the two of them.

“A collar?”

She understood Elites sometimes collared certain Others. The Elites made no effort to hide their domination. Quite the opposite, they gave every indication they enjoyed leading their Others around via a leash. The two times she’d seen the practice in action, the Others’ expressions revealed nothing of their thoughts. She didn’t understand how they could keep their emotions to themselves since just contemplating what Master might have in mind made her pulse race.

“A collar is a good suggestion.” He again pushed against her inner leg. She widened her stance until she felt the strain. “But that’s hardly enough. What else?”

“A leash.”

“That goes without saying.”

Hoping she’d pleased him in some small way, she lowered her head. She feared what it would feel like if he invaded her back there. Much more and all fight would go out of her.

“Come on, pet. I’m giving you a hint. Surely you know what this represents.”

He pushed and twisted, his finger plundering her puckered opening. He was barely inside but enough for her to feel as if he’d filled her. She’d never felt so invaded.

“What do most animals have at this part of their anatomy?”

A chill nearly knocked her arms and legs out from under her. “A—tail?”

“Correct. A pet deserves a tail, a bushy one the pet feels between her legs every time she moves.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I mean what I say. Don’t forget what this is about. You’re being taught to follow my rules.”

He’d made that clear but hearing him spell this out and being in the middle of it were different. She couldn’t help but think she understood the preserve’s predators. It didn’t matter how large their enclosures were, they couldn’t leave.

Neither could she.

“You’re probably cursing me for being cruel, but that isn’t my intention. To prove my point, I’ll prepare you for accepting your tail. I daresay you might even enjoy at least some of the process.”

Thank goodness he’d withdrawn his finger before flesh abrading flesh became too much. Now that she had a moment to wrap her mind around what he’d said, she couldn’t deny she was curious. She wasn’t about to admit she was looking forward to experiencing what he had in mind. He had access to the most responsive part of her body.

“You’re somewhat dry in there. Fortunately I know how to remedy that. The only thing you need to do is feel.”

She couldn’t relax. Her head was so heavy she couldn’t keep it up, and she didn’t want to risk meeting his gaze so she waited with her gaze fixed on the nondescript bedspread. Resisting was useless. She had no choice but to let him do his thing.

“Women’s bodies are complex.” He moved to her side and captured the closest breast, his fingers tight around her nipple. “They’ll always be somewhat of a mystery to men. That said, the average male is primarily interested in getting a woman receptive to being fucked.”

He rolled her nipple between his middle and forefinger. “Before I found my life’s work, I spent considerable time exploring women’s bodies. My reasons were selfish. However, today isn’t about sex. I’m committed to getting you where I need you to be.”

Tiny electrical charges brought to life by his fingers sparked throughout her nipple. The sensation flowed to the rest of her breast until she couldn’t stop moaning. Acknowledging that his understanding of her body rivaled hers was disconcerting, but she had no choice except to experience.

As the sensations traveled to her pussy, she struggled to control her reaction, breathing deep and fast with her mouth open. Despite that, her so-sensitive breast surrendered to his mastery.

“Don’t try to fight it. I won’t stop until I’ve achieved my goal. My vital goal. You might as well get as much enjoyment as possible out of this.”

Masculine fingers closed down around the second nipple. Her back arched of its own accord. Her breathing became even more rapid. After demonstrating his mastery of that part of her body, a task that only took seconds, he pressed the heel of his unoccupied hand against the small of her back. Between the pressure at the base of her spine and what he was doing to her breast, she felt as if she was being split in two.

A rational, thinking woman wouldn’t be kneeling submissively. She’d have—what?

Under normal circumstances, her inability to come up with a plan would have made her angry at herself, but she was too deep into arousal. He was so damn good, so damn determined.

And she—damn it, she longed to see everything he had in mind.

After more manipulation that left her both tense and limp, he released her breast. The hand at her back traveled to where proof of her responsiveness coated sensitive tissues. Moisture slid down her inner thighs. He swiped then wiped proof of his success over her ass.

“You can tell yourself you don’t want this, but you do. You’re giving me proof of it.”

She might have responded if he didn’t take that moment to capture more of her juices. He stroked her labia and played with her entrance. When he thumbed her clit, she was afraid she’d tumble off the bed. Maybe he understood because he grabbed her hair and held her in place as he collected yet more of her arousal.

This time he spread it over her rear opening, repeatedly coating the puckered flesh. He was preparing her so he could get his fingers in her. At least she hoped that’s all he had in mind.

Please, not that way. I can’t…

“There,” he said after painting her a third time. “That should be enough.”

He abruptly left her. The way she trembled she didn’t dare move enough to try to determine where he’d gone. The sound of something opening then closing told her he’d gone to the dresser. Maybe he’d selected something to spank her with.

During her teen years, she’d had few friends. At a post-high school graduation party she’d attended, the conversation had turned to gossip about how some male Elites treated female Others they had control over. Even though she mostly believed the gossip was primarily exaggeration, she remembered every word of what she’d been told. Given the opportunity to spank an Other, certain Elites availed themselves of a wide variety of punishment tools to do the job. Paddles covered the most area. Depending on how they were constructed and the force behind their application, a strike might be sharp enough to knock an Other off balance. Some Elites preferred whips because they were more likely to mark the flesh. Whips could be thin or thick with anything from a few to countless strands. Then there were floggers, slappers, bull whips, etc. By the time the girls had gotten to that part, she’d had enough. Hadn’t been able to listen.

“Lick it.”

His command pulled her back to the present. After blinking several times to clear her vision, she acknowledged a multitude of slim strands connected to what looked like an oversized teardrop. When he pressed the solid teardrop to her mouth, she stuck out her tongue. Understanding came one lick at a time.

“A pet has a tail,” he said. “I want yours to be memorable, for you to never forget how you looked wearing it.”

Her buttocks clenched. It took all she had not to bolt or beg. Master had made up his mind about how he intended to deal with what he considered her disobedience. There was nothing she could say.

“That should do it.”

He drew the silken strands over her cheek then trailed it down her back. When he reached her ass, he slapped her.

“Spread your legs. Lower your head. That’ll make the insertion easier.”

Oh, no.

When she was in position, Mr. Dalton drew one trembling ass cheek away from the other. That done, he placed the plug at her rear entrance and pressed. Unlike when he’d used his finger, the lubricated plug easily made entrance. Being stretched back there was far from comfortable and yet…

Not believing her response, she forced herself to focus as he turned the plug about, going deeper, making a lie of her body’s natural resistance. She should have paid closer attention to its size. It seemed big, huge, much more than her ass could possibly accommodate.

It continued to plow into her, holding her apart. Forcing her to accept.

“I guessed at the size,” he said conversationally. “I’m certain you would have selected something much smaller, but I wanted to make sure you couldn’t extract it on your own. Getting there. Not much longer.”

Hopefully he didn’t think she wanted to hear that. Even as the unrelenting invasion continued, she silently willed it to end. This wasn’t happening. It was part of the most realistic dream she’d ever had.

With no warning the stretching, pushing sensation ended. Her puckered flesh settled into place. The burning sensation backed off, allowing her to fully acknowledge what had happened. The tear-shaped plug was lodged inside her. Thankfully the base was so small her opening barely burned, but he was right, the only way she could get it out was by pulling it, which she was certain he wouldn’t allow.

Distracted from defeat by a tickling sensation, she acknowledged the hair-like strands on the backs of her legs that served as a tail.

“Step one accomplished.” He patted her buttocks. “It looks even better than I thought it would. You’d make quite the show pony.”

She couldn’t help but look back at herself. Unfortunately the attempt threatened her balance. She might have tumbled over if he didn’t yank on her hair.

“Ow. That hurts.”

“Does it? I’m surprised the sensation got through considering what else you’re experiencing.”

How would he know? Had he ever been, what, tailed?

Not trusting herself not to say something she’d regret even more than she regretted going against his orders last night, she didn’t resist as he kept her head in place.

“Good pet. We’re making progress. Time to move onto the next step.”

The step as he called it started with him releasing her hair. When he went back to the dresser or whatever it was, she took a chance on shaking her ass. No way could she get used to the plug and yet there was something erotic about how the hairs felt against her naked thighs. He was altering her. Turning her into someone she didn’t recognize.

Instead of allowing her to look at what he’d brought, he placed something that looked like leather but probably wasn’t around her neck and locked it in place. A collar. For a pet.

She supposed she should be grateful it wasn’t so tight it hindered her ability to breathe, but she wasn’t. Like everything else that had happened since she’d come here, she’d had no say in this.

“You might not have noticed the details,” he said, “so I’ll explain them. It’s black with tiny pieces of jewel-like glass imbedded in it. I don’t want my pet wearing something cheap looking. As for its usefulness…”

He reached under her chin and tugged. As the pressure at the back of her neck increased, she realized he’d put his finger through a ring. He continued to pull until she had to shuffle to the edge of the bed. Then he brought her back to the middle and ordered her to lower her head.

“Selecting the right leash wasn’t an easy decision. Too short and you won’t be able to move from my side. Too long and you might get tangled in it. That said, I believe I made the right decision.”

Thanks to her position, she couldn’t see what he’d selected. She wondered if he’d taken a class or something in the proper handling of just-obtained pets. He obviously knew how to keep her at a disadvantage and in the dark so to speak.

She whimpered under her breath when he snapped a leash to the collar. He waved the leash under her face so she could see it was made of braided red strands. He fastened the leash to the metal headboard.

“Not that I’m concerned you might try to run away, but I need my hands free for what’s coming next.”

She kept herself sane by convincing herself that she could probably unhook the leash and take off. It wasn’t something she was seriously considering, not so much because she was afraid he’d punish her once he captured her, which she had no doubt he could do. Rather, she wanted to see what else he had in mind.

“Lift your head.” When she did, he pointed at the dresser with its open doors. Whips, paddles, and floggers hung from hooks near an assortment of restraints. There were also gags and what she took to be blindfolds.

“More than you want to think about.” He made it a statement. “I can understand.”

You can’t possibly.

The lesson was far from over. Only marginally aware of what she was doing, she tugged on the leash. It held. She’d never felt more off balance, or alive. Master was going to spank her again. This time his hand wouldn’t land on her ass.

But he’d still be here, in charge, devoting his time to her. Letting his morning revolve around her.

“Maybe I’ll let you have a say in the decision. Which of these do you think will make the greatest impact?” He held up a short whip, a paddle with holes in the part designed to strike her, and something that put her in mind of her tail.

“I don’t care. Just—get it over with.”

He shook his head. “What’s the fun in that? I’m thinking the flogger’s strands might get tangled with your tail so what if we remove it from consideration?”

Not waiting for her response, not that he probably cared what she thought, he returned the objects with all the strands to the dresser.

“This whip has five strands. Because it’s short I’ll be able to control and direct its movements. Of course—” He waved the paddle at her. “There’s nothing that says I have to stick with one instrument. Last chance. What’s your call?”

For you to forget this. She didn’t voice her thoughts because she needed and wanted to experience what the two implements felt like. His hand had done amazing things to her, not all of them bad by far.

“The paddle.”

“Why did you choose it?”

“It—I don’t think it is going to sting as much.”

“Guess it’s time to find out.”

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