Hostage of my Heart Ch. 03

"Sounds good. Go check for those tracks."

Jim left, and Sainte tapped the handgun on the desk as he thought.

"Maybe Sir Rand here is telling the truth, but we should probably get going as soon as we can." He addressed the comment to the men guarding Rand.

To Rand, he added with a grin. "But before we go- " Sainte shoved his chair away and stood, grabbing Opal's upper arm and hauling her up to stand beside him.

With the pistol, he gestured to the yuppie in the brown pants. "Gavin here has already fucked Opal six ways to Sunday, but I can't get enough of the little slut. Sure, she came all over me, but still- "

Twisting violently, Rand freed an arm, landing a thunderous uppercut to one man's jaw and stunning him. Before he made it all the way around, the butt of the other guard's rifle struck him in the solar plexus, doubling him over. A second blow landed between his shoulder blades, and Rand crashed face-first to the stone floor.

Ignoring the skirmish, Sainte pulled Opal to the edge of the desk he'd been sitting on, disregarding, too, her anguished display of concern. Pointing at Rand, who was already struggling to his feet, he told his guys. "Shoot him in the head if he fucking twitches in my direction."

He spun Opal to face the desk and pushed her upper body down across it. She and Sainte were both watching Rand's face when Sainte plunged his cock all the way into her in one swift, violent thrust, but Rand's eyes were glued to Opal's. She was too tender not to flinch and too worn down to completely hide it, but she kept her eyes on Rand's, imploring him silently not to move.

He easily read her lips. "Please please please don't, please don't, please please please."

His face was flushed and furious, his hands fisted at his sides, but he managed to contain the rage. He couldn't help her if he got killed. He repeated it to himself over and over, a litany of distraction and intent.

Sainte caught on to what Opal was doing and twined a hank of hair around his fist, slamming her forehead to the desk. "Shut up, cunt, and enjoy the fuck."

With that, Sainte lost interest in Rand, leaning back to watch his cock sawing in and out of the hottest, wettest pussy he'd ever felt. This was her fifth time in less than twenty-four hours and the bitch had been coming practically all night, for Christ's sake, but her pussy was still tight enough to cling to his cock as he withdrew. Sainte grunted, slamming into her, not at all concerned with Opal's satisfaction this time. He'd have to make her come in front of her hero at least once, though... spreading her buttocks to improve the view, Sainte gave himself another brilliant idea.

His thrusts slowed dramatically as his plan solidified. One final humiliation for the happy couple. Then he'd kill the lot of them. They'd been fun little pets, and Opal was just what a man needed to celebrate his de facto release from prison, but the hostages had to go. Soon, he and his men would leave, and everyone here could ID him. Sure, the cops would do it with security cameras and DNA a couple of days from now, but dead hostages would give him and his men a few hours head-start.

Sainte rolled his hips to one side and reached between his body and Opal's, sliding his fingers into the puddle of her pussy lips. He didn't care if he hurt her, but he didn't want to rip the skin off his dick, either. He wiped a glob of wetness across her asshole and stabbed his index finger through the dense ring of muscle.

Opal screamed and clenched down on the invader.

"Shit, you're tight, honey. Nobody's ever fucked your ass before?"

Opal was crying again and didn't try to answer. There was no point in placating him now; she could feel the difference. She'd heard the same change in his tone that her step-father had whenever he gave up the belt in favor of raping her. Sainte had skipped the beating and gone straight for the rape. Now he'd strangle or stab her or maybe just beat her to death.

She tried to relax her bottom. Right now he was going to sodomize her; she couldn't stop him, she could only try to minimize the damage.

Opal's eyes went to Rand's. Sainte's men were holding his arms again, and one of them had a pistol lodged in the hollow behind Rand's ear.

"Please," she mouthed one more time.

Then she closed her eyes and turned her head away, lowering her cheek to the desk as Sainte fucked her, his thick finger twisting in her ass. It stopped hurting so much after she relaxed. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

That's when Sainte pulled his cock from her pussy and rammed it into her ass, a horrendous, piercing assault that tore a scream of agony from Opal's throat. When Sainte began to pull out, Opal felt like her intestines were being ripped out, too, and she fainted.

It was only a couple of minutes, she figured later, but the involuntary softening of senselessness gave her body a moment's respite in which to adjust. When she regained consciousness, she was in the same position, and Sainte was still raping her ass, but he was moving much more slowly. Opal's head cleared and she realized she wasn't screaming. She concentrated. It hurt- badly- but nothing like that first stroke. She'd live. Suddenly she remembered Rand, and her head whipped around.

He was seated in Sainte's discarded office chair. One side of his jaw was swollen and his nose was bleeding, but he wasn't dead, either. One of the guards standing behind him looked nearly as battered.

"Rand." She moaned, wishing she could reach out to him.

Tim was sitting up on the floor nearby, still looking woozy.

"You back with us, honey? Ah, good." Sainte slammed his cock deep to punctuate the comment, making her whimper but not scream. He went back to a slower tempo, yanking her head up off the desk with the handle of her hair.

Opal's eyes watered.

"Okay, honey. So me, Bob, and Rand here have had a go at that fine, tight cunt of yours- "

Anticipating his next words made Opal nauseous. She counted... Sainte's four men, Richard, Tim...

"- but I'm afraid our time together is limited. So- " he stopped thrusting and she felt the movements of his body as they were transmitted through his hips.

"Shove that over here." The order wasn't meant for her. "Right behind me."

Sainte grunted an acknowledgment, then snaked an arm around her belly and leaned back while pulling up on her hair. Opal helped as much as she could, and they tumbled backwards onto a low chair with his cock still embedded in her ass. When she landed atop him, her body weight and their position drove him deeper and she shrieked again, arching her back as she tried to evade the whiplash of painful cramps ricocheting through her pelvis. The thought of keeping Rand alive helped quiet her moans immediately.

"So," Sainte repeated. "We're going to double up on this last go, and I'm going to let you chose."

Stuttering in real terror, Opal began, "I- I-" The reality was almost worse than six more rapes. She'd tear wide open.

Adjusting his hips, Sainte began thrusting again even as he hooked his hand around her head and drew Opal back against his torso, covering her mouth. "No, honey, not you."

Her eyes were wide and panicked at the thought of having two cocks invading her body simultaneously. She couldn't take it. No way. Her face paled, and the room began to spin. Calm down, she told herself, having no effect whatsoever on her burgeoning panic.

"I'm going to let your boyfriend chose."

He nodded to the guards. "Stand him up again." The men behind Rand backed away, and he rose under his own steam, glaring his hatred.

"How about it, Hero? It's your choice. Bob's already been there a couple of times, but Dick merely licked the slut into a screaming, squirting mess without actually having a go at her himself. Then there's the two fellas beside you, though they've been consoling themselves with the other young lasses."

They raped Brit and Jenny? Opal tried to thrash her way out of Sainte's grasp, but impaled as she was, every ill-advised movement caused a new round of cramps. Were the girls still alive?

"Then there's Surfer-boy, who seems as infatuated with our sweet Lady Opal as you."

With one hand still covering her mouth, Sainte kissed the side of her face, his other hand on her uninjured breast, where he tweaked and played with her nipple like a lover, rocking his hips as he continued to fuck her ass.

Opal blinked back tears and closed her eyes, hiding. She knew what he was doing- he wanted to make her come in front of Rand, and it was beginning to seem like a possibility. Laying flat atop him, Sainte's cock wasn't as deep as it had been before. Her ass had adjusted to his girth, and every thrust was poking a spot deep inside her that she hadn't known existed- a very pleasurable spot. The gentle caresses weren't helping. Her pussy was throbbing already. Opal concentrated to prevent herself from moaning.

"And let's not forget the other option, Hero: there's always you."

Opal's eyes flew open and went directly to Rand's face. He wasn't moving. The half of his face that wasn't swollen bore a horrified expression, which Opal understood immediately. Of course he didn't want anyone else to rape her. He was an honorable man, and she'd already been through enough. Opting to participate would prevent yet another man from victimizing her, but... Rand's cock was huge. Though she'd had two other partners since their first time, Rand would still stretch her to the max. With Sainte's larger-than-average cock in her ass... Opal stared at Rand, tracing the path of his thoughts.

Sainte's men were out of the question- who knew how much they'd hurt her? If they were anything like their master, she'd end up in the hospital. That left Dick, Tim, and Rand. Tim was the logical choice- Rand had seen the sneer on Richard's face the day before- but... there was his natural desire to keep other men away. Also, you never knew- Tim's cock might be as large as Rand's- or larger.

Even before she'd reasoned it out, Opal knew. She begged him with her eyes, looking neither left nor right as she tried to communicate her choice. You, Rand, chose you. I want it to be you.

Rand saw the fright in her eyes, he saw a train of thought which mirrored his own, he saw her desperation, her plea, but he couldn't read her mind.

"Hurry up and chose, Hero, or I will."

Rand shook his guards off, his hands going to the buttons at his throat.

The visible half of Opal's face relaxed, and he knew he'd chosen exactly what she wanted. She wanted him.

Sainte gave directions while Rand stripped. "Get that desk out of Sir Rand's way. Don't want him to stub his toe while he's making love to the missus."

Rand's gaze never left Opal's face.

Sainte removed his hand from her mouth, finally, and let it fall to her other breast. Unlike Rand, he didn't give a shit about the bruises he'd already inflicted, but he was stroking her nicely at the moment. Through the sensory assault on her ass, Opal would hardly have noticed if he wasn't.

Rand bent to pull his shoes off and didn't bother with his socks.

Opal didn't know how he'd been affected by what had been happening, but she didn't want Rand's empathetic nature to screw this up for both of them. Before his hands went to his belt, Opal let her eyes fall to his crotch. Very deliberately, she licked her upper lip. Rand's eyes flashed grey fire as his body heated.

Rand stripped off his trousers and jockeys in record time, falling heavily to his knees between her legs, and ignoring Sainte's presence. He might have to knock rocks with the shithead, but he didn't have to act like it mattered.

Adjusting his position, he stroked her lower belly with the back of his hand. His knuckles brushed against her pussy as he guided himself toward her entrance, and Opal flinched. His knuckles were wet, but he lifted his eyes to make sure he hadn't hurt her.

He hadn't.

Under Sainte's hands, Opal's breasts were heaving. Her lips were parted as she gasped for air and her eyelids were lazy with lust as she watched his cock nearing her body.

Rand groaned before he'd even touched the velvety raspberry folds.

She held her breath when she felt the breadth of him nudging at her gate. Before he moved his hips, he kissed her softly, and Opal wanted to cry at the tenderness of his expression. Then he began to push. Amazingly, the swollen head of his cock popped in right away, creating pressure but not the sharp, tearing pain Opal had anticipated. Her surprise lasted only a moment.

When he pushed again, Rand's progress was impeded by Sainte's bulging presence in her bottom. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, putting his weight into it.

Opal's flesh strained to accommodate this new breach. Slowly, painfully, her body yielded. She couldn't hold back a sob or seven, but she kept her eyes on Rand, her fingers digging into his shoulders even as he vanquished her.

Rand gritted his teeth, while Sainte kept up a constant commentary, crushing Opal's breasts, which she barely felt. "Jesus fucking Christ, you're tight, Opal. This is fucking ridiculous. It's not- JESUS!"

Rand stopped, breathing hard through his nose. Sainte was irritating, but he wasn't wrong: Opal's cunt was painfully snug around his penis, too. He bit back the words telling Sainte to shut the fuck up- it wasn't hurting either of them anywhere near as much as it was hurting Opal. Rivers of tears left glossy trails all the way down onto her lovely breasts. Every so often, those tears threatened to kill his erection, and Rand was forced to shift his gaze from Opal's eyes to the spot where their bodies met.

His shoulders heaved. With another deep breath he resumed plowing into her. When only an inch or so of his shaft remained outside her body, Rand paused. He licked his thumb and leaned forward to claim Opal's mouth as he touched her clit. Staying still, stroking her ever-so-lightly, he kissed her passion into life again.

Miraculously, Sainte kept his mouth shut, though he grew impatient after a couple of minutes and began to rock his hips, his cock moving in Opal's battered ass. After her first fearful gasp, Rand felt her lower belly relax against his hand. He held his body still but continued his gentle assault on the tender pink bud his penetration had exposed. Her kisses grew more fervent and the vice-like hold of her body eased. Slowly, he withdrew a centimeter and immediately pushed back in. It shocked them both when he slid all the way to her cervix, mashing his thumb between their hips.

Opal's eyes widened, but her tears didn't return. When the expected agony failed to appear, her shallow breaths grew deeper and her entire face softened.

Rand moved his thumb, circling her clit, and Opal's eyelids grew heavy. Her body shifted restlessly. Tentatively, she repeated the motion. Feeling nothing drastic, she clutched Rand's shoulders and bravely rocked her hips.

All three of them moaned.

"Jesus Christ." Sainte growled again.

Rand took his thumb away when Opal shifted again, but otherwise he didn't move, letting Opal control everything. Well, not everything- Sainte continued to thrust in her ass. Between the two of them, Rand didn't really need to move, though staying still was killing him.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour of self-denial, when the color had returned to her face and Rand was sure she'd adjusted to the dual penetration, Rand tried a short, slow withdrawal and re-entry. Opal gasped, her mouth wide open, her face reflecting only pleasure. He did it again.

"Oooh." Opal's quiet exclamation told him what he needed to know, and Rand took over, fucking her with complete devotion to bringing her bliss, pulling out almost all the way with every stroke before thrusting just as deeply. He propelled her slowly, steadily higher, her body tensing, her face yearning and taut as she reached for completion.

Rand was beginning to think he wouldn't make it- Opal's cunt was wet and hot and gripping him so tightly... with the added stimulation of Sainte's cock rubbing his from the other side of the thin membrane separating her channels... Rand didn't think he could hold out much longer.

He was still watching Opal's face when her expression changed, her brows drawing together and her mouth opening in the nascent shape of a silent scream. She began rocking furiously, destroying what little rhythm he and Sainte had created, and whipping away the last of Rand's will-power. Seizing her hips, he drove himself, one stroke for every two or three of her frantic gyrations.

Sainte came first, arching up to thrust deeply as his cock exploded in Opal's virgin ass. The increased pressure and his pinching thumbs on her nipples pushed Opal over the edge and she stiffened, her body convulsing around them. Sainte groaned again, and the throbbing velvet vice of Opal's inner walls caused Rand's own eruption. His first volcanic spurt of semen renewed Opal's spasms and she cried out, writhing weakly between them and extending their mutual surrender.

Allowing himself virtually no time to recover, Rand gently withdrew from Opal's embrace. Her eyes were sad until he bent and snatched her from Sainte's clutches. She shrieked as his cock slid roughly from her ass. Rand had anticipated the pain, but felt the move was necessary.

With two giant strides he placed a sofa, an armchair, and a table between them and Sainte's two goons. There was a floor lamp, a heavy Tiffany-style dish, and a sharp-edged end table within arm's reach. Standing Opal on her feet, Rand pushed her behind him. He'd been a gymnast back in the day, not a boxer, but he'd fight to the death before he let another man near Opal. Fuck it.

-- o --

Sainte opened his eyes and laughed at the tableau. "Always the hero. Relax, you can have your girlfriend back." With that, he dismissed them.

He looked a question at his men as he stood to get his clothing in order. "The girls?"

"Back in the supply closet with the old lady and the dead broad."

Tim and Rand frowned, having missed several scenes.

Sainte nodded sharply, pulling his shoes on. "Good. What did we get for vehicles?"

"We still have the Olds, plus our pals here contributed a Jeep, a crew-cab F250, and a Range Rover."

Sainte grunted. "The crew cab is probably the least noticeable, especially with more than one guy in it. We'll leave the car, take the truck and... the Jeep, I guess. It's not a Wrangler, is it?"

"Nope, a Cherokee."

"Okay."

Rand's expression didn't change, but mentally he heaved a small sigh of relief. He'd only had the Range Rover for three days. It was insured, but still...

One corner of his mouth twitched. His new car was unimportant in light of this ordeal, of course, but his incongruous concern for it was the hint of humor he needed, a reminder that life existed outside the swirling cauldron of fear between these walls. Soon, hopefully, they'd be back in the world, and Rand planned to celebrate by learning everything there was to know about one Opal... he frowned again. Dammit, he didn't even know her last name.

Unobtrusively, he put his hand back and found hers, giving her a quick reassuring squeeze. He felt someone watching him and glanced away from Sainte to find Tim glaring.

Geez. A kid with a crush.

On the other hand... Rand sobered... for all he knew, it wasn't just a crush. Opal's statement to Sainte the day before didn't necessarily mean she'd been honest about her single status. She and Tim were close to the same age: maybe they were romantically involved. Rand hadn't noticed any interest on Opal's part, but maybe she was angry at Tim for pretending not to know her.