Claiming Kenna Ch. 01

Everything slowed, and she was trembling. The two behind bench-guy had their dicks in their hands, and were actively jerking off. Mark, behind her, had shifted so that his hands were both on her ass, but hers were still trapped, now pressed with their backs against his crotch. Jarrod was the only one who had completely stilled, and she felt her vagina sucking in his fingers, wanting more.

He let out a short, low moan, then shook his head. "Stop." Kenna wasn't sure whether he was talking to himself or to his men, but the other two stepped back nonetheless, and he withdrew his fingers from her sex.

The last to act in accordance with the order was Mark, who ended up shoving her off of him, onto the floor. "Jesus, Jarrod. I can't." And with that he stomped off to the left, exiting from where Kenna could see.

She imagined him going to beat off in a corner somewhere, and felt the shadow of a laugh lift in her belly. But the sensation was quickly drained when Jarrod lifted her off the ground by the neck, and slammed her back down onto the couch. His knee was rooted in her gut, and she quickly found that she couldn't breathe.

"Kenna..." her name was a low growl in his throat, and her panic spiked at the realization that he was barely bridling rage. Rage that she felt shaking in his fingers against her windpipe. "I swear to fucking God, if I ever find out that you're lying--"

She wanted to speak, to say that she wasn't lying. Does anyone cum on their first time? But there was no air. No air coming in, no air going out. She knew logically she shouldn't struggle, that it was a waste of precious energy, and the longer she was conscious, the less brain damage if he choked her out. "Please," her mouth as forming an empty word, and he eased up just enough that she could scrape down a breath.

"Mmm," He was tracing her lips now with his idle hand, and she couldn't stop him with both of her hands clawing into the fingers choking her. Her jaw was dropped open as she tried to gasp at air, and he used the opportunity to swivel a finger around the inside of her mouth. She felt the inscrutable instinct to close her lips. "It's been awhile since I let myself do a grab. And you...Maybe I should just keep you for myself. Such a pretty, little slut. A man deserves to enjoy his profits every once in a while."

Another breath, another breath. She was breathing, but just barely, and her vision danced with purple-black dots. She'd been able to pry off two of his fingers, one at a time, using both hands before they were swiftly replaced. This wasn't working. She was going to die. She needed...

"Mercy..." She managed to whisper. It was a childhood word to her, used when tickling got too intense, but it wasn't now. With a final squeeze, he released her, to choke down air and hold back vomit.

"Good. Smart. Figured out how to ask properly."

They didn't seem to mind as she fumbled onto her feet, and off the couch. Collapsing in a fit of coughing, she pulled herself to the back of the room--the cavern. There was apparently no exit, and they let her crawl. Absolutely exhausted, she laid her head against the rock. She sniffed, wiping tears she hadn't realized she'd cried.

Bench guy--Jarrod--paced in front of the couch, and she followed the walls one more time to try and find an exit. How the fuck did they get in? There had to be a way out.

Finally, he sighed, stepping towards her with purpose. Kenna didn't like it, and she retreated a few feet until he closed in.

"Tell us about your little lesbian experience."

"Sounds like a story for my new owner." The smartass retort caught even her by surprise, and again where she'd expected anger, he chuckled.

"Touché."

"Fuck you."

He grabbed her by the hair, slamming her head back into the rock. "That's enough. The next time you speak, it had better be with proper respect."

She glared. Thankfully her tongue was slower than her brain. She clenched her jaw, vying for silence over his precious respect.

"A few more questions, Kenna. How's your pain tolerance?"

"What the hell kind of a question--"

He slapped her--hard, and she gasped, more from surprise than pain. Her ears were actually ringing. "I--I...normal? I guess." She answered haltingly as she comforted her cheek.

"Mm. Getting answers from you is like pulling teeth. I'm done." That scared her more than she expected. Was that all it took? Was he going to kill her? "Where's fucking Mark?" He snapped at one of the others. "Would you get the...?" He gestured vaguely.

"Yeah."

"Get the what?" She said aloud. Nobody answered her. "Get the what?!"

"Oh, Kenna. You were amusing, but I can't say I'll miss that attitude. It's time for another little nap."

Already his man was returning with another syringe. But if they put her out, how was she supposed to find the exits? Find an opportunity to strike? "Wait--!"

Bench guy took the syringe, pulling the protector off with his teeth. She went to fend off his hands, but he merely batted her wrists away. He was too quick--dexterous and strong.

"Sweet dreams, Kenna."

His voice swam with her thoughts back down into that deep unconsciousness. It was warm, and she was falling already.

"Sweet dreams..."