The Bonding Ch. 04

"You said the recordings were to show the men in town. I thought... I assumed you were giving them the address to a private web site."

"No. I posted the videos on an established porn site."

"We have to move, Michael, as soon as possible." It had been just over a week since he'd posted the first video. A week with me blindly thinking nothing had changed. Nearly a day of that I'd spent unconscious, helpless on the floor.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he demanded.

I ignored him and grabbed the remote for the surveillance feeds. I took several moments scanning live footage from the property as well as inside the house. Everything seemed quiet. I dropped the remote on the desk and turned to the door.

"I need to check the doors and windows, and make sure the alarms are set. Then we need to start packing. As soon as I've showered, I'll see about arranging storage for what we can't take, but honestly, we may have to just abandon a lot of your things. Sorry."

Michael was out of his chair, and he grabbed my arm before I'd finished talking.

"Anya! Explain, now."

The danger wasn't immediate enough to ignore a direct command, though I certainly wanted to. I also wanted to shake him until his brains rattled and ask him how he could be so STUPID. I took a deep breath instead. To be fair, Michael was far from stupid. It was just that 30 plus years of global internet use couldn't quite erase 200 years of expectation and experience.

Until very recently, in Michael's view at least, it was possible to get the correct paperwork, move a thousand miles away and never have to think twice about being discovered. I could pose nude for a photographer in Florida, and unless he became incredibly famous, Michael's new friends in Ohio would never know about it. Crossing a national border only made us that much more anonymous.

What Michael couldn't seem to grasp was how much the internet had changed all that. Especially since he tended to view each move as the beginning of a new life. Michael was very much a man who lived in the present, and now his blindness might get him killed.

"Michael," I began, trying not to sound like I was lecturing an idiot. "Less than a month ago, we robbed and killed an international sex trafficker."

"I remember," he glowered.

"We first got to Dean through his supply line of young girls for bondage porn."

"Yes, yes, but he's dead, half his underlings are in jail by now, and we're still siphoning money from his offshore accounts."

All true. We'd spent ten months working our way up to the boss using methods not typically used by police agencies. The $200,000 we'd scored the day we'd killed the man was just a sweet little severance bonus. The real money was in the secrets in his head, including information on multiple international bank accounts. It was amazing how little secrets were worth when staring into the eyes of death. But none of that mattered now.

"Dean's baby brother ran the web porn side of the business. He's very much alive, and whether he's in prison or not, all it will take is one of his perverted flunkies seeing that video of us. They can trace the poster's I.P. Address straight here."

Michael thought this over for a minute. Finally he shook his head.

"There are hundreds of those websites. And even if someone recognized us, they really have no reason to think we killed Dean. I'm sure we weren't the only ones to take off after the bodies were found. Dean's people are going to blame Zapata and vise versa. It's the whole reason we killed them together."

"Yes, but..."

"No. If it'll make you feel better, I'll pull the videos and set up a private website. But I'm not moving. You've got your security toys and I have you. We're perfectly safe if any muscle does come sniffing around. I've got three more geezers in town wanting to fuck you already, and I don't intend to disappoint them. In fact, you have a date tonight."

"Michael, I really think..."

"Enough, Anya! Go get cleaned up. Have a snack if you need it, then get back here. I'm sick of jacking off, and we have a video to make."

My body moved instantly to obey, but my mind was screaming that this was a mistake. Those recordings were going to cause trouble. I knew it. In the end I was right, of course. But I wonder... if I had known the form that trouble would take, would I have really tried to stop it?

Michael

It was noon on a bright and sunny Sunday. I was sitting at my computer with the most beautiful girl in the world kneeling under my desk sucking on my balls. I had a choke collar around her neck which I was using to severely limit her air supply.

The new website was coming along beautifully, but I was annoyed and getting restless. I was annoyed that I was wasting time designing a website when I should have been making a movie of Anya suffering some brutal and degrading act at my hands. Mostly I was annoyed that she'd been right. Posting anything with our images on a public website was a serious lapse in judgment. Posting porn so recently after taking down a sex organization was embarrassingly idiotic.

Finally I gave up and sent Anya to the basement to work out while I went for a run. In the early days I often watched Anya train, even had her teach me a few moves, but I quickly gave up the practice. Knowing that this 100 lb little girl could kill me without blinking if she were only free, could be an incredible turn on, especially when I had her doing something really degrading. But actually seeing her in action was less erotic. In fact, it could be... scarey.

A mile into my run, I noticed a young man sitting in a pick up truck on the side of the road, apparently studying a map. Any other time, I would have thought nothing of it, but as I said, I was on edge. I started towards him at a slow jog, thinking to offer directions, but he put the truck in gear and pulled away before I reached him. I thought he looked middle-eastern or Indian maybe, but I couldn't be sure.

By the time I finished my run I had forgotten all about the young man in the truck. The next time I saw him, it was too late.

Anya

My date that night was a man Michael introduced as Mr Collins. He was in his mid-seventies, a farmer whose sons had long taken over the real work. He and Michael had discussed our date beforehand. Mr Collins knew what he wanted, and it wasn't a daughter.

When he arrived just before dark, I was naked and leashed to a tree in the back yard. This was the first time I'd been leashed outside since we'd left California. There Michael had often chained me by a collar to a stake while he entertained another woman in the house. It was a cool evening, and I was shivering.

In addition to the collar and leash, I was wearing leather mittens on my hands, knee pads, an ass plug with a furry tail, and a muzzle. The muzzle looked much like a dog's device, but was fitted with an o-ring that had my jaws stretched painfully open. By the time the old man bent down to pet me and scratch behind my ears, I had a long stand of drool hanging from my mouth.

Mr Collins untied my leash and Michael had me demonstrate some tricks for him. I sat up, begged, rolled over and played dead, as both men laughed and applauded. Then I knelt between them on the patio while they had drinks. The old man constantly played with my "tail" and chatted with my "husband". Michael told him about "putting the puppy outside" any time he had a "hot date back home."

After about an hour of this, they finally got down to business. The old man fed me his cock through my muzzle while using my collar to "control" me. Michael watched from a foot away.

"Bitch has two more holes, Mike," he said after a few minutes of grunting and humping into my face. "You might as well use one."

"I believe I'll do that," Michael smiled. He tossed a cushion onto the ground and knelt behind me. He flipped my tail onto my back, but left the plug in place. I began to make panic noises around the old man's cock.

"I think she's begging for you, Mike," he laughed.

"She usually does," Michael said. He shoved his cock into my wet and throbbing sex and I screamed. It sounded embarrassingly like a howl.

"Jesus, don't rip her apart," the old man protested. "A tool like that, you ain't gonna leave me nothing to work with down there."

"You said you only wanted her mouth and ass anyway," Michael replied.

"Yeah, yeah. But I was hopin' we'd give her a little double action, ya know. But seein' the size of that monster you're sportin' that's probably not a good idea."

"Oh she can take it," Michael laughed as I screamed again.

"I dunno..." he said doubtfully.

"Look, I'll prove it."

Michael pulled out of me and dragged me over to a lounge chair. He lay on the chair.

"Up girl," he said sharply, snapping his fingers.

I could feel my face blushing as I took Michael's cock inside me again. I lay against his chest and looked up at Mr Collins. I gave a bark though my muzzle and wiggled my tail.

"Damn eager bitch," he muttered. He jerked the plug from my ass, bringing another howl from me. He tossed it aside and straddled the lawn chair. He began working his cock, still wet with my drool, into my tight bottom.

Though no match for Michael's size, his cock was far from small, and quite thick. I was sure they really were going to rip me apart. I was past full, past pain, past terror. But oh gods forgive me, it felt amazing.

And then Michael began to move. He thrust his enormous monster in and out of my cunt, and the old man growled and buried his cock in my ass. Then they were moving together, and I was sure I was going to die. But I didn't care. I was their bitch, and I was in heat.

Too soon the old man pulled out, and Michael lifted me off of him. I howled my protest, but it did no good. I knelt on the ground, rubbing at my horribly empty cunt with a leather mitten, as both men came on my face. The leather was slick and there wasn't enough friction. I whimpered and moaned, cum dripping from my face as they laughed breathlessly.

"Try this bitch," the old man said, finally. He tossed the tail to the ground in front of me. Just picking it up with the mittens was difficult. I eventually managed to position the plug against my clit. Michael was laughing uproariously at my efforts, but the old man was stroking his cock.

Just as I started to rock my hips, rubbing myself against the plug, the old man stepped up and shoved his cock in my mouth. I gagged and retched, dropping the plug, but he just fucked my face until he came down my throat.

He wiped his cock in my hair and pulled up his pants.

"Me and some fellas are meetin at Corey's Place tomorrow to watch the game. You should come by, Mike. Bring the cunt if you'd like, but you're welcome either way."

"Thank you, sir," Michael said shaking his hand. "I just might do that."

I was still trying to get the plug in position to fuck myself with it when Michael kicked it away.

"Bad girl," he smirked. "Your date's over, so none of that now."

He pulled me back into the yard and tied my chain back to the tree before showing Mr Collins to his car.