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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1381741--His-Pet--Chapter-Six
Rated: GC · Chapter · Drama · #1381741
Man,Beast,Victim..at the mercy of a twisted warden, what choice is there? He's "His Pet."
"~ His Pet ~ Chapter Five

Chapter 6

David patiently watched the still form lying near by. She hadn't moved since the Master had unceremoniously dumped her at his feet. He studied her familiar features curiously in the dim light shed by the small window in the door. She had short raven hair where all the others had been blond. Her features were a little strong to ever consider her classically beautiful, but her high cheek bones, large doe like eyes, and firm jaw line might be considered exotic by some. He squatted beside her and gently trailed the back of one finger over a shoulder blade and down her slender back. Her skin, softly bronzed like his, was as soft as silk. Her form was trim, muscled, and athletic. She didn't look like she would "break" should a man's appetites run a little rough.

He wondered what in the hell was going through the Master's demented mind. She was his new "special" play mate. The Master had been very firm in that he was NOT supposed to break the new toy. David grimaced. She was a disappointment, as he had really been hoping for Taylor. Grudgingly he fondled one ass cheek, letting his big paw cup the globe. His finger trailed between the cheeks to seek out the small puckered hole hidden there. She moaned then, and he looked to her in surprise. She started to move, slowly waking from what ever dream land the Master had sent her to. Welcome to my nightmare, he thought bitterly and rested his forearms across his knees to wait.


Her head felt like it would split in two at any moment. She tried to wet her lips with a tongue suddenly too thick and a mouth that seemed full of cotton. She lay on the hard floor. An intense cold seeped into her bones. She listened intently for a long moment and heard only harsh breathing. Was it really her own breath that sounded so loud in her ears? Her heart began to hammer as she slowly came to the realization that she was nude, laying here on this cold floor. Slowly, she forced one eye open in a slit. Even the dim light felt like a needle to her poor befuddled brain. She squinted, trying to force the tortured orbs to focus.

The walls were cement block. Long ago, they had been painted a dull clinical grey/green that now flaked to the concrete floor like dandruff. The floor, once painted the same, bore the wear of many feet until the paint survived only around the room's edges. No light came from the large fluorescents she made out above her. The only light came from a small peek window in the large steel cell door. Staring blankly at the door for a long moment, it slowly came to her that she was in the old Asylum. From what she understood, this part of the complex hadn't been used in almost twenty years.

A small sound behind her made a scream catch in her throat as she whirled. A second scream echoed, unchecked at the sight that met her. Big David Batista crouched a few feet away. His massive upper body was uncovered, save for its decorative tat work and a fine sheen of sweat. His mighty thighs bulged in the confines of the standard issue grey pants. Hulking arms rested nonchalantly on his knees. His heavy hands hung loosely, slowly clenching and unclenching. She felt a chill crawl up her spine as she met his dark, lifeless eyes.


David watched Leblanc slowly crawl backwards, her dark eyes wide. She cut off her scream almost as quickly as it had started, for which he was grateful. She watched him carefully as she inched her way to the door. He held still, letting her discover for herself that there was no escape. She moved slowly, her eyes never wavering from him. She slid cautiously up the door, pressing her bare back tight against it. Darting looks in his direction, she looked desperately out the small window. The slump of her slender shoulders told him the tale. She was alone with the monster.

He didn't have any real animosity against C/O LeBlanc. She was a tough cookie, but fair. It was too damn bad the Master chose her. There were several of the macho, homophobic male hacks he would have enjoyed teaching some respect. The mere thought of bending that white supremacist fuck Schottenheimer over made his balls tighten. He mentally shrugged. It wasn't his choice, but he didn't have a choice in the matter. The Master had them both at his mercy and David new better than most, he had none. He respected how well she was "keeping it together" at the moment. Oh sure, he could see the fear lurking in her dark eyes; but then, he had said tough, not stupid.


Summer's mind worked franticly. She was locked alone and naked in a part of the complex that no one ever visited with a 6 ft 6, 300 lb., cold blooded, sociopath that would kill her without blinking if it suited him. Mentally, she counted back. David Batista's "transfer" had been nearly six months ago. The word had been that he was being transferred to the Big House at Attica. The Riker's Maximum Security Penitentiary was a newly renovated facility. Riker's island had 10 "jails" everyone thought of them as prisons, but it was a popular misconception. They were for the housing of detainee's and short term inmates of a year or less. There were separate jail facilities for men, women, adolescent males, adolescent females, and specialty units for AIDS, hospitalization, detoxification, mental health, and communicable diseases. Not all ten prison's were used. Due to the over crowding of the State Penitentiaries, they decided to utilize some extra space, both building and land wise, adding the massive Penitentiary currently able to hold 10,000. There were plans to renovate the old Riker's Asylum building she was now in when funding became available, raising the capacity to 12,500.

She shook her muddled brain, wondering why in the hell she was thinking about expansion when it was unlikely she would see her next shift. It was evident that Batista had not been sent to the Big House, but rather had been quietly hidden away where no one would ever look for him. Some one was taking care of him. Who knew he was here? Why was he here? She flinched as he moved. She eyeballed him warily as he slowly stood from his crouched position. The cell seemed to shrink as he towered over her.

"What are we doing here, Batista?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and authoritative without angering him. He lowered his head a little, shoulders hunching, and rolled his eyes upward to look at her. The image of a bull ready to charge popped into Summer's mind. He considered her for a long moment then sighed.

"It's not about us LeBlanc," he said simply. "Here, you do as the Master wishes, or you suffer and I'm tired of suffering."

"Who is the "Master"?" she asked hastily, as he took a step forward. He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut, as there was a sound at the door. Leblanc sprung to her feet to face the small window.

"Let me out of here!" she demanded, struggling to see who her Capturer/Savior was. "Who's there?"

"David, weren't you taught as a child not to play with your food?" a cold voice whispered out of the darkness. "Don't force me to punish you again. I won't be as gentle."

Suddenly, Batista was pressing against the back of her. One big hand effortlessly grasped her wrists above her head where they had been pleading at the window. He dipped his knees slightly, so he could rub his crotch against her bare ass. The material was rough against her soft skin and she could feel his erection growing. She bucked furiously, trying to give herself the tiny window of opportunity to put her training into action. She sure as hell had fucked up so far. The movements only seemed to arouse the big man. He groaned and ground harder, smashing her against the cold steel door. A knee pressed between her thighs, forcing them apart. One heavily muscled forearm slid down over her belly to support her hips, angling them back. She screamed in anger, fighting like a wild woman as she felt the considerable length of his hard cock against her ass like a brand.

His lips caressed the nape of her neck and she slammed her head back, gaining a small glimmer of satisfaction in the grunt of pain David emitted as her scull connected with his nose. That satisfaction disappeared quickly, as his knee rammed back between her legs, wrenching them apart. Pissing him off probably wasn't the wisest move, she thought belatedly. His hand slid down over her mound, large fingers probing. She screamed angrily through clenched teeth, as one thick digit slid up into her.

He worked the finger slowly, as his thumb circled the sensitive little nub. Leblanc was mortified to feel her body starting to react. At the natural moisture, he slid a second finger in, stretching her a little more as he finger fucked her thoroughly. He grinned to himself as a soft moan escaped her lips, causing another wave of struggling from the stubborn brunette. He heard the Master move outside the door, and knew he grew impatient with David's play, even if this one was allegedly here to please him.

Tightening his grip on her small wrists, he brought her to her knees. He shoved her hard, forcing her to put her hands out to catch herself as he dropped behind her. He secured his bulging forearm around her slender throat, his weight across her back, keeping her on her hands and knees. Wrenching her thighs apart till her hips protested, he slammed his full length into her hot, tight pussy, ripping a guttural scream from the hack. Violently, he rammed his huge member into her, over and over, tearing gasps and cries from her hoarse throat. His free hand gripped her hip, guiding them as he picked up intensity the closer he came to orgasm. Grunting, his breath harsh and hot at her ear, he battered her body mercilessly.


At the door the man's hand moved faster over his hardening shaft. The bitch's breathy cries, as his pet's monstrous cock battered her sopping pussy, turned him on. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of flesh on flesh, as David neared completion and his balls slapped hard against the harlot's ass. His other hand worked his own balls, fondling and twisting them slightly as his rod hardened and his breath quickened. David's roar echoed off the concrete walls, bouncing down the deserted cell block as he continued to slam savagely into the poor twit. A moment later, a raspy cry of pain tore from her throat as David cruelly pinched that swollen nub, and with one last vicious thrust, sent her traitorous body tumbling over the edge to release.

The man at the door pumped his fist harder, small sobs escaping his throat as he watched his pet grind into the bitch, making her whimper and writhe under him. David pinched her lovely nipples, making her back bow and her head came up to look toward the door. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. As her tortured gaze seemed to lock with his, the Master's body contorted in a pleasure so deep-- it was pain.

"~ His Pet ~ Chapter Seven

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