Revenge Never Hurt So Much… Or Felt So Good
By now you’ve surely seen the others posting pictures all over Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, not to mention their own blogs. Well, get ready because there’s only four days left and then…
…it’s here. The Dark Forest. Seven truly twisted fairytales told as you have never heard them before by seven of your favorite best-selling authors – Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley, Tabitha Black, Maggie Ryan, Addison Cain, Jennifer Bene and Maren Smith.
She is an independent career woman with a penchant for the seamy underside of life. Her name is Goldi, and Goldi has always walked her own road. Including the road that led to her latest job. Breaking into that house was every bit as easy as she’d been led to believe. What it wasn’t, was empty and shifters (particularly were-bears) were not known to be forgiving. Now, trapped in the terrifying dark of their basement dungeon, Goldi knows she’s in for a long night of carefully exacted revenge. What she doesn’t know is which might be worse: the inevitable pain as they work in tandem to break her down… or the incredible pleasure that pain brings.
She turned in a full circle, her eyes gradually adjusting to the gloom enough for her to make out the sparse lines and hard edges of widely spaced furniture and even the dangling cord of a single bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Feeling the way with her feet, she reached for it, hoping the light might help her find another way out. It didn’t, but it did help her see her situation more clearly.
This wasn’t a cellar. It was a torture chamber and she was standing in the middle of it, mere feet away from some kind of cruel bondage bench. Like the horse upstairs only without the equine neck and head, it had four legs, a padded rail across the top, and multiple rings on all sides by which to affix whoever was stupid enough to get caught in this house.
Right now, that someone was her.
Everywhere she looked, she saw horror after horror. Neatly coiled ropes, straps, manacles, crops, paddles, and even hooks—hooks, hanging from other hooks—dangled off the stone walls. Blindfolds and masks lined the shelves amid more gag varieties than she’d ever known existed. Gags with balls, gags with bits, gags with round metal hook contraptions designed to force a jaw open and keep it that way no matter what.
Another hard thump pulsed through her, an unexpected echo of which landed, centered, and took command of her clit.
Once upon a time, a wise man had told her moments of stress could teach a person a lot about themselves. She had to stop talking to wise men because this wasn’t at all something she wanted to learn.
The low, scraping footstep on a hard stone floor.
Goldi looked down at the stones she was rooted to, at her own feet which hadn’t moved. Her heart thumped again, her clit hummed, and every fine hair on her body stood up on end as she heard the bellows-like exhale of beastly breath nowhere near far enough behind her.
Her own breath sounded abnormally loud and shaky as Goldi faced the third bear. It was even larger than the other two she had seen, and it was squaring itself against her from the far side of this entirely too small cellar. Facing it now too, she hugged the ledger tight against her.
She was going to die. She was a little surprised that she wasn’t more scared. Her legs were shaking. She was clutching the book so tight that the edges of the hard cover bit into the fleshy parts of her fingers, making her knuckles ache and throb. But she didn’t scream. The urge was there, choking up the back of her throat at tonsil level, but that was as far as it rose, even when the bear rose to stand. Twenty good feet separated them and it still towered over her, not roaring or growling, or making any noise apart from the heaviness of its breathing. Not moving either, apart from a faint pawing at the air and a twitch of its black nose.
She was just beginning to think here was where she was destined to stay until the owner of this horrible house came home, when the bear took a lumbering step towards her. First one, and then another, and then it threw the whole of its massive body into a furious shake, as if it had just come out of a river and were shaking off the water. Only there was no water, just the massive coat of its own fur that rippled, shifted, melted. The whole bear melted and in the span of time it took to take that third lumbering step it was no longer a bear. It was a man—long and lean, with the fur of his previous pelt becoming a headful of neatly trimmed hair and a dark brown trail of the same that lead the way from his navel to his… oh-dear-God, he was naked. And huge. But mostly naked, which was ominous enough to break through muffling grip of shock and horror to dislodge a mousy squeak.
The cool dark of his stare never once wavering from her face as he started toward her. Helpless to do anything but stare at the heavy pendulum swing of his cock, Goldi watched him come. He stopped within feet of her and, without a word, took the ledger from her numb hands.
At the top of the stairs, she jumped at the click of the cellar door before it swung open. Two more men came down the stairs, their bare feet tromping on the wooden steps and their lean naked bodies every bit as impressively formed as the man frowning before her.
“Told you she’d come,” said the last male, as he stepped off the bottommost stair. They could have been brothers, they so closely resembled one another. Of the three, he probably stood the shortest, although only by a scant inch or two.
“You were right,” agreed his companion. Of the three, his brown hair was the lightest and he was the only one with a light dusting of fur upon his chest. He was also the only one not clean-shaven. His neatly-trimmed mustache grew down to join the thin square lines of the beard that completely framed his unsmiling mouth. “Beautiful, but as greedy as she is dishonest.”
The two men fanned out as they approached her. Like hunters, locked on a target worth stalking. The pit of her belly fluttered. She didn’t like this feeling. She didn’t like feeling like prey. She especially didn’t like that way her nipples were tightening the closer they came, or the burlap scrape that assaulted the tips with each shallow, shaky breath she took.
“Whatever shall we do with her?” the shorter mocked, all but purring with sarcasm.
Her heart was pounding hard, battering the insides of her ribs and making it so very hard to think. She hated that her hands were shaking and that raising them in surrender, as she did now, only made that shaking worse. Not that she had a lot of options, but her racing mind hadn’t given up on the slim chance that she might come up with a way to get out of this.
They thought she was beautiful. Though none were smiling, that at least gave her one feasible avenue to try.
Goldi eased into a cautiously seductive pose, her empty hands held high, hip cocked in a way that amplified her curves. “All right,” she acknowledged, tucking her elbows to make her full breasts a little rounder. “You caught me. So, now what?” She let her tone dip into playful taunting, hoping against hope they might rise to the bait and completely disregard her next suggestion. “Anybody going to call the police?”
Two of the three cracked thin, dangerous smiles.
“Oh, sweetheart,” the smallest said. “Now where’s the fun in that?”
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