Outback Captives - by invitation only

[Original_Cyn2]

http://www.geocities.com/original_cyn_sation/Godiva2.jpg​

She slung the reins wearily over the saddlehorn, her palms tight against the throbbing ache in the middle of her back. Massaging no longer worked, the muscles so rigid she wondered, briefly, if she’d be able to get down when the time came. Well, that would be his problem, she thought waspishly.

With a sigh she removed her hat, feeling with disgust the sweaty dirt ring that encircled her forehead. With a glare, she dared the menacing figure on horseback in front of her to utter a single word. There’d been a time when his presence had terrified her, one glance enough to send her scurrying in an opposite direction.

That had been nearly two weeks ago, when she and her sisters had been abducted from their camp. Two very long, agonizing weeks of hard pounding, bone wearying, aggressive riding that had left her mind dull, her soul weary and her spirit…beaten. The first day she’d thought she’d die, terror flooding her soul at what might happen, her relentless imagination inexorable and insistent.

Epona paused in her thoughts, a small smile of derisive amusement painting her chapped lips as she remembered some of those fears. Compared to her current reality, those horrors seemed… almost pleasant.

“A rare treasure, that…” his tone, mocking and loud enough to bring laughter from several of the other men nearby, shocked her from her thoughts, his touch against the soft skin of her jaw nearly de-horsing her as she shied away from him. She cried out, bringing more laughter from all, when his hand, rock hard and punishing clamped down on the silken, aching skin of one thigh, penetrating muscle that screamed in response.

“No!” her cry rang out enraged, his attention re-illuminating the nightmares that had played through her imagination for weeks. Her body, every muscle, shrieked in protest. Epona flung her head back, raising her eyes in defiance. She took in the broad smile, the white teeth, the teasing laughter that seemed to emanate from all of him save those cold, dark eyes and felt all her despair, all the misery and pain accumulated over their trek swamp her senses. She felt his touch grow gentle, saw concern flicker through the black depths of those insufferable eyes before the darkness reached out to her, shrouding her senses in the dim, quiet reprieve of unconsciousness.

 

[Velvet_Touch]

Noah Talbot

Noah ran a hand over the rough stubble on his chin and shed his hat, knocking the dust from its brim in outright ill spirit. Whoever believed that the gurry slaves were submissive hadn’t met this lot before. His glance fell on the redheaded termagant that, yet again, had favored him with a look that could kill. He’d heard more backchat from that chit than from all the rest put together. How many times in a day did a man have to tell her to leave her hat on? Annoyed he guided Spirit away. It would serve her right with that fair skin of hers to burn it to a crisp under the glare of the outback sun.

They’d run the black post twelve days ago and hit true never never over six days ago. He shaded his eyes, looking north and saw with satisfaction the familiar landmark they’d been searching for. There, beneath the cool sprawl of shadow formed by craggy peaks they’d find water, safe shelter and fodder for the horses. It’d been their base camp for over five years and remained an unknown haven to all but the local abos.

He glanced over his men and their current herd with quiet satisfaction. Slaving was good business out here if you had the balls and abilities to travel inland for long periods. They’d turn this train over to their skalpie in Darwin and make enough profit to live comfortably for the next nine or ten months. He glanced back over his shoulder at the trail they’d covered, his thoughts drifting over the gurry males they’d left behind a shrugged off the chill that formed between his shoulder blades. They’d been careful and nothing but sheer luck would lead the men back to his crew, but…perhaps it was time to head to new, greener pastures.

His gaze drifted back over the redhead, reading from her pose the discomfort that seeped from every muscle. It brought a small grin twitching at the corners of his lips. Suddenly, he was struck by the smile that twisted her own, his body language leading his horse around to sidle up behind her without thought. He hadn’t meant to speak, much less in the cruel tone he’d used, but he’d disliked the look on her face with a ferocity that had surprised him. Nor had he been prepared for her reaction or the intensity of the pain that radiated from her body… or the fury that had had sprung from her like a living thing. A fury wrapped in sensuality enveloped by an eroticism that had sizzled between them at a simple touch. And it had not been his imagination…he’d seen the recognition in her eyes before they’d closed and she’d slumped, unaware, in his arms.

“Wrap it up and let’s get going. I want the billy on and a warm meal in front of me in three hours. Danny, take Nathan and ride out checking our tail. Johnny, get those women back on their horses and then put Asia with the stock. I’ll take care of this.”

“Aye boss, a pretty bit she makes,” Johnny’s jaded glance goaded Noah into a grin as he looked over.

“A pretty bit indeed.” His glance took in the lithe and supple body draped over his muscular thighs, feeling the press of soft curves as the horse shifted restlessly beneath him and their temporary stop turned mobile once more.

 

[Original_Cyn2]

Epona Campbell

She came to with a groan, strange noises ringing in her ears, each breath jounced from her lungs with the prancing of the horse she was…. What in the world? Before she could struggle, strong arms had encircled her hips lifting her like a rag doll into a sitting position in his lap. She felt the warm dusty feel of horsehide against her unshod feet and the hard angles of his body against her own softer curves.

That impression, brief as it was, receded in the wake of another more pressing recognition. Two really; the throbbing sensation of fullness in her breasts where they’d rested against his taut thigh and a hunger, greedy and demanding, deep in her belly. Shame flooded her cheeks at the same moment she became aware of the stillness and intensity in the man behind her. Hiding her shame and her eyes beneath the silken fall of red hair, she sat motionless, but not, as she was sure he was aware, unresponsive.

“That’s a first…no glares…no words?” His words came quietly, close against her ear, one large hand cupping her hip carelessly, a big thumb stroking the denim outline of her right pocket with insolence.

“Please, just leave me alone.” When they came, the words barely whispered through the air between them. She placed her hands on the saddle horn, tears of humiliation welling in her eyes, her thoughts reeling between the man so far behind them and her reaction to the one so closely pressed against her.


“Stay where you are,” his body pressed closer yet before abruptly pulling away as he dismounted. She heard footsteps in the sand and gravel beneath his feet and slowly raised her eyes. “Don’t bother,” the dry retort brought her gaze to his own, shining dark with humor as he turned and scanned the terrain. “She’s a brumby, she is, for anyone save me,” his gaze diverted to the horse she now sat alone, “but if I know anything, you’ll have to give her a go. If you bail me up, Epa,” with the course nickname a smile flickered from his full lips to the gleam in his eye, his glance now directed fully at her, “we’ll have a little go at it tonight until one of us sits firmly in the saddle, you ken?”

She didn’t ken…in fact, even after four years she often found herself at loss with the local pidgin. But she understood the threat in his tone, she understood the shortened nickname meant “mare” – in a context less than proper. But more so, she understood her own eager response to saddling and defiance had her sitting straight in his saddle, refusing to meet his eyes. Relief flooded her at the sound of his retreat.

She glanced around and realized they’d arrived to wherever it was in the middle of this forsaken land they’d been headed. A small camp was laid out in front of her against the eastern edge of a cliff of rugged stone large enough to cast shadow from midday onward. Several cedar buildings were visible beyond the corals and the unbelievable sound of water…dripping, rushing water met her ears, an intoxicating sound that had her perusing her surroundings much more closely. Her nose told her the water was beyond the nearest cedar building as did Spirit, the horse beneath her. With her breath held, she watched her sisters being led, one by one, to one or the other of two buildings, tears threatening again as she took in their defeated stances and the debilitated glaze in their eyes. There was no fight left in any of them that she saw as they were led away. Epona straightened her shoulders against the pain and grief she felt and nudged the horse beneath her with her ankles, sighing as he began to amble closer. She would fight for all of them, finding a way back and leading the council with her.

As the horse passed the rear corner of the first building without regard from any of the band of abductors she let out a tiny sigh of relief. A small waterfall greeted her stunned gaze, water sounds growing loud enough to drown out the sounds of Minx’s footsteps, green vegetation adding to the dampening effect. A runner from a small bush brushed against her exposed calf, its thorny barbs bringing a cry of pain that she quickly muffled. Pulling her legs above the level of the unexpected profusion of lush vegetation, she dug her heels in quickly, urging the horse ahead, swinging her head against the curve of the shore of the small pond in front of her.

“Don’t…” she heard the command and swung her own head around as Spirit lived up to her name. The series of hops, kicks and twists, far more than even her experience could keep up with, dismounted her within seconds. She landed in a relatively silky outcropping of foliage, small ferny, low lying plants with a mossy surface that was almost spongy. “…move.”

Glaring up at the visage of angry man that stood above her, she quailed for a moment before thrashing to her knees. Hard hands gripped her shoulders as he dragged her free of the vegetation, stripping her shirt from her in a single stroke.

‘What are you doing?” Her outrage had her voice and body shaking. “Ouch…hey, ouch…OW.”

“Jack jumpers,” his voice hiding laughter behind a grim façade. “They’re particular fond of that fuzzy plant…and you too, it appears.”

He’d pulled her out of the plants, ripping the shirt from her back and she’d quickly struggled out of the damp, clinging denim of her jeans, slapping at the ants whose fiery bites had her hopping around on bare feet. His large hands flicked critters from her back and from the long strands of her hair swinging about her in frantic motion, before settling harshly, in one determined smack on the creamy skin of her bottom. She jumped, feeling the handprint glowing along one haunch and held her breath at the look on his face.

“Nice.” She stopped, dead still, her eyes pinned to his. His gaze caressed the long, lithe curve of her haunches and as she turned toward him, it moved upward, dark and gleaming, drifting higher over the well trimmed crest of her sex beneath silken strings of the only restraint between them and the soft mounds of her breasts beneath their black silken bindings. “Come here.”

There was no denying the command in that voice, the determined gleam in those eyes or the frightening calm to his stance. She trembled, paused and walked to him, her eyes on the ragged remnants of red color that lingered on her toenails.

 

[Velvet_Touch]

Noah Talbot

The bottoms of his boots were melting and he was too tired to worry about it. The warmth of the flames, the full belly and the relative comfort of permanent camp had left him, after the rigors of the day, nearly spent. The slaves were fed and housed and all but one of them bathed and re-clothed in appropriate gear for the trials ahead. He could hear the muffled gasps and lusty cries of his men enjoying themselves with their trade.

Occasionally, his line of sight caught the vague gleam of a pair of eyes from the far barracks and a mix of emotions welled up within. Frustration was principal, well aware that he’d have to deal with her tonight if he wanted any chance at routing this group without applying a heavy hand. She could not be allowed to get away with her antics and yet, his fatigue was almost overpowering. That accounted for the second emotion, the raw attraction he fought at every turn with her. He was not a novice on the slave route; this was their fifth seizure. He’d never permitted his own desires to interfere before and even fatigued it wasn’t about to happen now. His imagination wandered back to the moment she’d, reluctantly, approached him near the pond, his body tightening in response.

~ ~ ~​

Like a motion picture in his mind, he could feel her quiver beneath his gaze, felt the muscles tense and the obstinate resistance to shy away, like a wild pony, as he’d caressed the tanned skin of her collar bone before lifting her head, and gaze, to his own.

“Closer.” He’d been shocked at the fire in her eyes. The anger he’d expected. The shame he’d been aware of. But the attraction…the depth of the attraction…had sent the blood rushing from his brain to his loins so quickly it’d left him dizzy. Her stumble and the uncertain quiver to her lip had been delectable, making him painfully aware of his own anatomy. And as if aware of his thoughts, her eyes had dipped lower, taking in his rampant state before his hand beneath her chin redirected that gaze to his. “Jump up, wrap your legs around my waist.”

Her eyes had gone as wide as he’d ever seen them and he’d been forced to grip her shoulder to keep her from falling arse over tit into the bush. When she’d re-balanced he’d let go, turned on his heel, walked five or six steps and turned back to her. “Alright, we’ll do it your way. Walk with me.” He watched impassively as she put each foot down gently on the hardscrabble plain. Wincing inside with each tender step, he’d stood his ground and reissued the command. When she stood before him once more, he’d offered a hand and she’d nearly flown into his arms, long thighs wrapped high on his waist, her scarlet face turned away in rigid defiance that he found difficult not to admire. An emphatic exclamation at mid-leap caught his attention. ‘Thorn?”

She’d nodded, remaining rigid in his arms even as he’d put his hands on her hips, pulling her down until she rested irresistibly against the heat of his arousal. For a moment, no more, he’d given in, thrusting against her, pulling her sweet curves hard against him and felt his body rock with hungry aggression. He’d been hard pressed, if you’ll forgive the pun, not to take her in the rough stones and sand of the path. With a grunt, he’d released his grip to a less punishing force and walked back toward camp. The laughter and ribald remarks from his crew hadn’t helped the situation, drawing his attention to the perfect set of fingerprints tattooed in eerie red and blue grey against the pale skin of her arse. He’d set her down on the deck of one of the bunkhouses gently, taking her foot and then with a perversity that was rare for him, removed the thorn with a quick, cruel flick, feeling the pleasure of her pained response to the root of his balls.

~ ~ ~​

“Bonzer boss, you’re as clucky as a brooding chook, that’s for sure. What cha’ sittin’ at the bush telly for when that red headed vixen’s sittin’ all by her lonesome and you crackin’a fatty?” Billy’s question brought him back from his thoughts with a start, his eyes narrowing in irritation.

“Billy, why don’t you and Nathan head down to the watering hole and rope off the sluice instead of wasting your time jawing at me?” His harsh tone and broody stare were taken with a chortle from its recipient.

“Already done it, boss. We kinda figured you’d want to get ‘er cleaned up first.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake Billy. The day I have to bounce a sheila is a day you’re never going to see.”

“Got your budgie smugglers, boss?”

With a laugh he got to his feet, running a rough hand over Billy’s shoulder before heading toward the bunkhouse. Halfway there he’d gotten a brief reprieve, stopping to listen to Johnny’s medical report on the ant bites and an interesting mention of the welts she’d picked up on one calf. With a quick ta to Johnny, Noah veered off, heading toward the back of the building and the small patch of cow itch he’d seen earlier. Cautiously, with his bandana wrapped around the finger thick stalks of the plant, he’d cut loose two switches of suitable size and with a swagger, he headed back to the bunkhouse. There were a number of ways to deal with a discipline problem…he had no doubt about the effectiveness of this one.

 

[Original_Cyn2]

Epona Campbell

She was beyond fury, a ferocity of impatience, pacing the small bunkhouse restlessly. At the far end she could hear the only American in the tyrants crew, Nathan, having his way with Annie. At first, the soft pleading of Annie’s voice begging him not to brought impotent tears of rage to her eyes. After that, humiliation reared its ugly head yet again and a low, vicious hatred of the man who’d started this began to boil through her veins.

Annie’s soft cries had long ago turned to mewling whimpers of pleasure and Epona had lost track of the number of ecstatic climaxes her country-mate had reached with the now not so unwilling Annie. She was bitterly aware too of the lack of frenzied denial from the other barracks and far too aware of the soft sounds of pleasure that drifted through the dark camp. A resentful smile wreathed her lips.

“So, little mare, you smile for the other fillies? Or do you wish to be in their…shoes?” The question came from the tall countenance whose shadow darkened the doorway, his voice low and husky in the small confines of the building.

“Please, I’d like to bathe now?” Her impatience stemmed primarily from that one act. She’d been attended to by Johnny who’d shyly and carefully seen to the swollen ant bites and various welts, scrapes and bruises she’d acquired while the others had been herded to the pond to bathe. She’d fully expected to go when he’d finished but Johnny had disappeared with a quick tilt to his cap and her plaintive questions had gone unanswered by the rest of the crew. So here she sat, dirty and uncomfortable, forced to listen to the antics of a testosterone manic crew and watch as its leader sat comfortably morose around a large campfire. She brushed by Noah and out the door to the porch railing of the barracks, startling a bit as he pulled abruptly aside with a swish of sound she couldn’t distinguish.

 

[Velvet_Touch]

Noah Talbot


“Shortly. Epona, turn around for me.” The hunger that had never really left came back with an intensity that left his words clipped and severe and he found pleasure in the uncertainty of her movements as she turned away from him. The clouds drifted away from the full moon and his eyes wandered over the glowing skin of her back and thighs, his fingers dancing lightly over the ant bites that dotted her back, pressing lightly against the matching set of fingerprints, one on each rounded curve of her arse. Briefly, he replayed that moment in his head, the feel of her, warm and heady, pressed against him, his fingers digging into her with an aggression that was uncommon. For a second he allowed his fingers to slide along the rounded swell of one cheek, slipping against the silken black cloud of fabric that hid her secrets from him like a shadow. Slowly, closer, the caress dipped lower, following the elastic threads that parted each full cheek from the other with erotic illusion, he let his fingertips trace the image of those silken lips and heated recesses, achingly hard himself. He felt her tremble beneath his touch and smiled to himself.

Reluctantly, he brought his hand away and down lower, following the seductive musculature of her thigh, his fingers searching…searching…until they sketched over the outline of welts Johnny had described. Yes, he knew that welt well and there was no doubt where they’d come from.

Kneeling now, on one knee behind her, he pressed his cheek against the silk covered arse cheek that presented itself and waited, patiently, for her to ease her stance away and leave her weight resting on the railing in front of her, his hand still stroking the small trail of welts on her calf.

“I see you’ve met up with another of the threats out here…one I might add you could have avoided had you listened to me.” He let her shift uncomfortably against him, leaning lightly against her to discourage her movement, his fingers stroking soothingly until again, she calmed.

“You’re lucky, Epi, sweet little mare. These welts, and the ones like them that I have yet to make on your tender skin,” he paused, standing now behind her, his hands running the length of her arms and pinning her hands to the railing in front of her as the words fell into place inside her head, “will stop itching by noon tomorrow…and the swelling will be gone by tomorrow night. Now all we have to decide, rebellious little one, is where we will put those welts.” He stood stoically behind her, his grip firm and unyielding, waiting for her reaction.

 

[Original_Cyn2]

Epona Campbell

She’d let his voice and his slow easy movements mesmerize her. She’d given in to her body’s yearnings and enjoyed the slow sensitive touches as he’d examined her. She’d justified it in her head even as she’d burned on the inside with a hunger that was undeniable and voracious. As his fingers reached the apex of her thighs and beyond, she’d melted into the sensual heat turned liquid and shivered beneath his touch, shutting out everything else. He’d stood up behind her, his hands gentle over the length of her arms and she’d let her guard down completely, ready to yield to him completely. It had taken several long moments for his words to register. When they did she froze, unable to believe her ears.

“NO!” Her voice rang out through the camp, silencing the soft babble of murmurs and pleasure noises that whispered in the background. Now, no longer gentle, his hands banded her wrists in a firm grip, his hips pressing hers to the wooden railing in front of her. She fought him, writhing until she could feel the splinters at her hips, bucking backward trying madly to try and dislodge him. “Oh God no…please.”

“Take your medicine like a big girl Epi, you well deserve it.” His whisper mocked her ear, his teeth nipping the cartilage, his hands and body firm barriers between her and freedom. “If you do, little mare, it will be over quickly, I promise…and then I will soothe your hurts with a warm bath.” He released one hand, running strong fingers over the underside of her right breast, flicking the nipple lightly as if to remind her of her traitorous body.

“No,” it was a sobbing wail as she renewed her frantic efforts, taking him by surprise for a moment. She’d actually gotten a step away when his hands had gripped her shoulders, lifting her bodily back to the railing, one strong, masculine knee between her shaking thighs as he pinned her down.

“Oh Epona,” he whispered, putting the familiar ausie slur to the end as if adding an “i” between the “n” and the “a”. “I would have been content with three quick strokes but still you disobey me. The number has doubled…will you double it again? I think, here….” His fingers released a wrist and ran lightly over the arch of her shoulder blade. “And perhaps…here…” He stroked the other shoulder blade running light fingers over her spine, bringing goosebumps along with a defeated slump to her shoulders.

He lessened his grip slowly on her other wrist, pausing to allow her to continue to resist. She didn’t, trembling in his grip as his hands ran gently up the full curve of both breasts. “And perhaps…here?” Slowly, he replaced her hands on the railing, one knee pressed tight against her sex as he did so, his mouth hot at her ear.

 

[Velvet_Touch]

Noah Talbot


“Yessss…” a sibilant whisper between them, he sucked in his breath as he felt her press down on him, her sex thrusting against his knee. “Yes Epi…ride…ride me, little mare…little tramp…ride.” If she were to fight back now, he’d lose her, his senses swamped with the feel and smell of her beneath him. He slid his hand down, away from her breast and beneath the scrap of silk that covered her sex, letting triumph flow over him with her eager whimper and the wet flow of her sex slicking his fingertips. He found the tender little nub, felt it jerk beneath his touch and his balls tightened in unison, bringing a short shocked expletive to his lips. He brought his attention back to the woman beneath him, focusing on her movements and the urgent rhythm of her hips and he laughed softly, biting her ear.

“Such enthusiasm, Epi…I find myself echoing it. Easy…easy girl,” he reached further, for the slick, dripping entrance to her sex, circling and teasing, breaking her rhythm. She rewarded him with a ragged gasp she seemed unaware of, holding herself still, beckoning him further.

He stepped back, away from her, admiring the view. Slowly, he unzipped, letting the sound flood her senses and watching her freeze, watching the muscles bunch, holding his breath. She didn’t turn…she didn’t flee and he felt a new wave of desire flood him, his balls contracting sharply, his cock so hard he was grateful for the freedom. Noah stroked himself lightly, from the base of the shaft upward, releasing some of the pressure with each caress, bathing the engorged tip and his fingers with a mixture of his pleasure and hers.

“Bend over for me Epi and let me do what I must.” He watched with warm pleasure as she did as he instructed, reluctantly and with a glance backward…but the final result was this woman, as ferocious and determined in her way as he was in his, splayed willingly before him. With a quick rip, he tore her panties from her, enjoying her gasp, taking pleasure in the quick brush of his cock against the delicious curve of her arse. He pressed the palm of one hand hard against her sex, feeling her cream slick it, feeling her body shudder…feeling his own respond so fully he gripped the base of his cock to stop the inevitable.

“You will count with me, Epi, at every stroke, yes?” Her found her muted but almost instant “yes” an erotic enchantment as he reached around her, to the far end of the railing and the first of the fresh switches he’d cut. He kneeled, behind her, pressing his lips to the curve of one buttock. “Spread your legs for me, Epi,” he murmured against slick, hot skin and watched with satisfaction as she obeyed.

 

[Original_Cyn2]

Epona Campbell

There was nothing she could do, her mind argued, he would do what he wanted with her, wouldn’t he? The thought sent liquid heat cascading through her belly and she shook her head, closing her eyes in confusion. She’d lost her mind, surely she had.

She understood, fully, what this little demonstration was meant to accomplish. She’d bucked his authority all the way here through silent mutiny and angry looks. How better to assert it than humiliate her in front of the entire camp? Unless of course, she willingly handed him her obedience along with her pleasure in one fell swoop.

She knew what those nettles felt like, first hand. He knew her response to pain. His knee, pressing lightly on her sex, was an invitation to escape that pain and turn it into pleasure. Her instinct was to do just that. Even as he mocked her…”ride Epi, ride”…she pressed closer, thrusting and shuddering with the contact. Instinct, pure and primal, her body drove itself against him, riding the sensual tide that he’d offered her.

She’d even felt abandoned when he’d backed off, dimming some of the heat coalescing inside, until she’d heard the distinctive sound of his zipper. She stiffened despite herself but her mind flared with adoration as she recognized, yet again, the approach. The apprehension was delicious, the thoughts of what would come next insidious and irresistibly painted on her imagination. She shook…actually trembled…with an ardor that mainlined itself through her veins and over her synapses like fire.

He was good. He was very, very good. From the ringing tone of sincerity to the feigned reluctance in his voice, he was superlative. She glanced backwards, her features mirroring the ravening hunger of her body…and her breath caught within. She wallowed in his response to her, stroked to the basest core by his need. Ferociously aroused and rampantly displayed he was magnificent, a feast of sensual arousal, his fingers stroking the generous, uncircumcised tool they held. Her thoughts splintered, submersed deeply into that exquisite region of capitulation that demanded acquiescence. She shivered, muscles bunching, driven by a need so elemental it defied reason. “Yes…”