The Ox Who Got the Cream Ch. 05

"Don't worry, this is just a prototype. I'm planning for the end product to have a garter belt that'll keep it from completely disengaging."

"Wait a moment," Zole said, moving from Layla's sight. "I'd like her to stay firmly in place for this." He returned holding a metal rod with a leather hoop attached.

He clipped the hoop around Layla's waist and tightened it, then clicked the rod into the platform base. She was substantially restricted. The attachment barely allowed side-to-side movement and at best she could arch slightly, though she certainly didn't want to do that.

Layla was abruptly brought back to the current proceedings when something thick and wet pressed against her pussy.

"Awwwllll!" she protested as the dildo began to slowly work into her. It didn't hurt, but it was uncomfortable since she wasn't aroused.

Layla squealed when Zole's fingers gently spread her lips and felt around the delicate flesh.

"Find the elusive thing?" Inspector Magnet chuckled, holding the dildo inside Layla.

"Mm-hm," Zole replied, carefully concentrating.

Layla yelped when something small, smooth and round suddenly adhered to her clit. Beginning to understand the proceedings, she continued to angrily yowl her objections through the ring gag.

When she opened her eyes, Zole was standing in front of her. She shook her head.

"Jesus. If you had any idea how sexy you look..." Zole also shook his head, but in awed disbelief.

"Ready to go?" The Inspector asked with a hint of impatience, letting the dildo slide out until only the bulbous head remained.

The Poker grinned, carefully unbuttoning the front of his trousers, watching Layla's green eyes widen with alarm as he pulled his cock out with clear intentions.

"AWLL! NGGG-!" Layla blubbed, then her mouth was full of Zole's cock. It was thick, smooth, lightly pulsing. And growing rapidly harder against her tongue.

As his cock squeezed through the sensor rubber border of the ring gag, the dildo began to slide back into her on its own.

"And then..." Inspector Magnet muttered, fidgeting with a remote.

The little pebble stuck to Layla's clit began to vibrate. Then it began to move; sliding up and down her clit, tracing the movement of the dildo inside her.

Shaking with excitement, Zole watched the flutter of startled emotions overcome his captive as she grunted around his shaft with surprise, distracted by the gadget's ministrations.

Inspector Magnet watched the dildo slowly fuck Layla in motion with The Poker's hip thrusts, the buzzing disc magnet dutifully following the movement before he was satisfied it was working correctly.

Layla moaned desperately around Zole's cock, wriggling, straining against the binds, anything to get away from the sensations.

"Yes, good," Zole muttered, sliding his fingers through Layla's long blonde tresses to cup her scalp. "Suck it, little fox. Cum with my cock in your mouth."

Layla shut her eyes, shuddering as a climax rapidly built beyond her control. She stiffened and arched, her cry muffled by Zole, who felt every heavenly vibration along his cock.

Unable to gasp or pant, Layla breathed heavily through her nose. Zole grinned and pressed his hips all the way, watching Layla's eyes grow big as he entered her throat. At the same time, the dildo glided all the way into her, the little nub zinged mercilessly along her clit and down again.

Zole quickly pulled out enough to hear Layla scream against the head of his cock. Then he steadily fucked her face, knowing what it did to her, almost like he was doubly fucking her, in perfect unison with the dildo.

"This is brilliant," Zole said thickly, caressing Layla's face. "My cock in your mouth, while you're being fucked. It's like I'm fucking you at both ends. Watching you cum is so fucking hot..."

Inspector Magnet kept a respectful distance, one hand working furiously down the front of his pants as he observed the erotically synchronised encounter.

Zole grunted, his gaze intense on Layla's strained features. "You're too fucking sexy, little fox. I won't last. But next time, I'll make sure we go all night."

Layla growled, her jaw flexed wishfully, wanting to bite down on him. Drool poured from the edges of her mouth and down her chin, neck and breasts. She hated the squelching noise every time Zole's cock plunged past the gag, and the associated wet sounds from the dildo working in and out of her sensitive, pulsing cunt. Soaked with her own cum. She could hear the perverted Inspector panting nearby.

She gagged on Zole's cock. She wanted it to stop, to find some way to escape. But the prideful part of her didn't want to be rescued. She didn't want Truce to see her like this.

Layla groaned as waves of pleasure passed through her again. It was that vibrating little bastard smoothly travelling up and down her most sensitive bits, the dildo thickly fucking her.

"Look at me." Zole's voice was thick with arousal, urgent.

Layla glared with intense hatred, with her eyes slightly dazed from repeated orgasms. She looked so hot, Zole's balls tightened and he knew it was time.

"Ugh..." he grunted, finally pulling out all the way.

Layla whimpered as the heavy dildo slowly slid out of her, taking the buzzing button with it. She heaved with exhaustion, closing her eyes as Zole's fingers tightened painfully against her scalp.

"Uh-!" she managed, unable to avoid Zole's sizeable cock directed at her. She shut her eyes as he exploded, coating her cheeks, trailing down her face like milky white tears. She felt warm, wet streaks land on her bare thigh, a few short spurts; Inspector Magnet's load.

All three took a moment to recover. Eventually, Inspector Magnet composed himself, retrieved his items and placed them in the suitcase.

Tired from the ordeal and still feeling remnants of the drug in her system, Layla was eager to have the gag removed and offered no resistance when the Inspector put his fingers in her mouth. Her exhausted compliance brought a smile to the Inspector's face, and he patted her shoulder in a patronising way before he left.

After opening and closing her mouth to adjust, Layla noticed Zole quietly observing her. He looked slightly more dishevelled than his usual clean-cut appearance, with his cheeks healthily flushed and his eyes sparkling. But the male passion was gone, and he'd resumed his usual calculating, villainous self.

"That was incredible," he smiled, running a hand through his short blonde hair.

Feeling every bit the vanquished damsel, and undoubtedly looking the part, Layla was wretchedly speechless.

"I wasn't much of a gentleman," Zole continued, not remotely apologetic. "But I think I've found a compromise, a way to redeem myself, that you might find acceptable."

Layla stared with bleak contempt.

"If you agree, I'll release you," Zole murmured, reaching to stroke her hair, chuckling when Layla angrily jerked her head away.

Zole walked off and returned with a wet cloth. He held her hair and wiped her face clean, then cleaned her leg.

His fingers curled into her hair, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I mean it, Layla. I'll let you go. Wouldn't you like that?"

Layla angrily rolled her eyes.

"Of course, I have a condition," The Poker softly smiled. "I'll let you run to the warm embrace of Oxman and I'm sure he'll soothe your woes. But, there's the condition. Ouch!"

Layla twisted her head to bite his hand, losing several strands of hair in Zole's grasp.

He frowned at the side of his palm, amused, inspecting Layla's teeth marks. "That's what I get for being generous." He walked away and picked up a remote. "I'll let you consider it overnight."

Layla watched him pause by the door and lean against the frame. He smiled handsomely. "Tomorrow morning I'll let you leave, if you want. No strings attached. My only condition is that the next time I catch you, you'll go into my bed willingly and offer no resistance to my desires."

Layla looked disgusted.

Noting her expression, Zole carelessly shrugged. "You have my word, Layla, and I don't give it often. You'll never get a better offer from a villain. Sleep on it, wildcat."

He clicked the remote and Layla's restraints fell apart. She was too weak to stand, managing to lift herself in time to see the door close and lock behind Zole.

***

Stepping back from the surveillance monitors, Truce surveyed the unconscious men strewn about the room and spoke into this wrist. "She's not here, either."

Felix's voice cracked through a small speaker. "This is good news."

"Is it?" Truce seethed, striding across to a stirring henchman. He kicked the man back to sleep. "I'm failing to see a positive here."

"It means she hasn't been processed for the tank," Felix explained. "You need to tell her about that. Among other things about The Poker-"

"This is the third fucking residence," Truce frowned, ignoring Felix's advice. "He would have been impatient to-"

"Knowing you'd be hot on his tail?" Felix rationalised. "He went a greater distance knowing you'd attack by proximity because it's the logical thing to do."

"Fuck him!" Truce kicked a chair. "I'll kill him for this, Felix. I swear. Where's his most isolated lair?"

"North, I think. I'll come back with coordinates. I'm sure you've been there before, a long time ago."

"Where he kept the orphans?" Truce panted, sprinting through various tunnels to his vehicle. "I won't get there before morning. I thought we blew that up?"

"You think he couldn't afford to rebuild it?" Felix retorted, before disconnecting.

***

Not bothering with the obviously guarded door, Layla collapsed on the bed and closed her eyes. She didn't have any clothes. The mysterious drug lingered in her system, though from what she'd witnessed of Zole's infatuation so far, he wasn't likely to administer anything to cause permanent damage. Though no one really knew what he was capable of.

The bed was irksomely soft and comfortable, like a cloud. Taking deep breaths, Layla stared at the ceiling, noting the airflow panel was too small to crawl through even if she managed to detach it.

The thing appeared well-made and not easily manipulatable. The room was designed to house a captive. She wondered who Zole had originally imprisoned in a childlike playroom.

Her mind went to The Poker's proposal. Despite the recent molestation, he hadn't fucked or seriously tortured her, or done any of the things she expected him to do. Her instincts warned it was not for a lack of interest on his part.

Zole was still courting her. He wanted her to kiss him in front of Truce. Now he wants her to flounce willingly into his bed. The offer itself meant he was confident of catching her again.

Though he was right; a more generous offer had never been made by a villain.

Huffing, Layla rolled to her side and drew the blanket over her nudity, sulkily covering her head as well. There were no visible cameras, but he was probably watching her. It was infuriating.

She'd figure a way out. If she agreed to Zole's terms and reneged, she had an unpleasant feeling he had a way to ensure she kept her word.

Hours passed and she dozed lightly, restlessly, unable to really tune out of where she was. Layla opened one eye and peered out of the bundle at the illuminated clock on the wall. It wasn't long until sunrise. Then he'd be back for her answer.

"Fucker," Layla grumbled, sitting upright still engulfed in the blanket. She sighted her reflection in a large mirror facing the bed. With her hair very ruffled, flushed cheeks and venomous eyes, she looked like an angry Eskimo.

Slipping from the bed, she wandered to where Zole had left food and water. She let the blanket shift down her shoulders and shook her hair loose to clear her vision. She poured a glassful of water, eyeing the liquid and remembering what Truce said about needing to drug test her. Zole was clearly a fan of drugging.

Layla placed the glass down and continued searching. Around a corner's edge, she found an en suite.

Relieved, Layla ran the tap and drank her fill. Straightening to wipe her mouth, she choked at her reflection and spun about to find Zole in the doorway, tensely watching her.

Glaring, Layla swallowed and found her voice. "Stooping to a new low, sneaking up on a naked woman."

The edge of Zole's mouth quirked, but his eyes were dark; the icy blue eclipsed by his dilated pupils. "You're not naked, yet."

"You said I had until morning," Layla snapped, tightening the blanket around herself.

"I did say that," Zole acknowledged, not moving. "But if you haven't decided by now..."

"You said I had until morning," Layla sharply repeated.

"Fine. I don't like the possibility you might escape," he admitted.

"Lacking faith in the prison you made?" Layla sneered, pressing back against the sink. "That's embarrassing."

"I haven't fucked a woman in quite a while," Zole mused. "I haven't wanted to."

Layla laughed humourlessly. "No surprise there. The suits were a dead giveaway about your preferences-"

"Don't be a fool, Layla," Zole interrupted. "Things will go very differently if I have to make a point." He stepped back to allow enough room for her to pass. "Come on."

Layla's eyes flashed. "Or what?"

"Or I'll make you," he said simply.

Layla stared at him incredulously. "Do you comprehend at all that I can't stand you?"

"You can't stand me?" he inquired with mock surprise.

"Yes, to put it mildly," Layla said, backing so hard into the faucet she was sure she'd bruise.

Zole chuckled. "Why? Because I captured you? Because you came multiple times while pleasuring me? Or because you can't free yourself?"

"Why don't I save you some time, Zole," Layla snarled, ignoring his enjoyment that she addressed him by name. "I'll never want you the way I want Oxman. That's what this is about, isn't it? You're not obsessed with me. This is about him. You just want what he has."

Zole's smile soured. "Get on the bed."

"Even if you rape me, you won't get what you want," Layla argued. "Your ego is so fragile-"

"And you're stalling," Zole said, and came at her.

Layla managed a nice upper cut, flinching at the pain in her hand. Zole grunted and seized her throat, his eyes on her exposed breasts.

Zole pressed suffocatingly close and forced her face up. "It's not about him," he growled, staring into her wide green eyes the lowering his mouth to her ear. "Maybe it was at first," he whispered, nipping her ear lobe and tightening his grip on her throat as she struggled. "But really, I'm just like him. I have to have what I want."

Layla groaned angrily, fighting to pull the blanket up as Zole cupped her breast.

"I want this," he breathed, his finger thumbing her soft nipple. "Every delicious inch of you. Not because you're beautiful." He drew back and cupped her face. "It's your brazenness. Oxman was attracted to it. So am I."

"Oh, for fucks sake!" Layla raged, and tried to kick him in the nuts.

Zole quickly blocked her knee and used the distraction to yank the blanket free and cast it aside.

Layla yelped, torn between wanting to fight and cover up. She didn't want to fight naked. But she didn't have a choice.

Zole's features were surprised and bemused when she jumped on him. Layla wrapped her legs around his waist, pulled his hair and punched Zole in the face.

He staggered back, holding her, his fingers digging so deep into her flesh Layla knew she'd have more bruises on her ass. Layla punched him again and Zole released her.

The next two punches Zole easily deflected. On the third he caught her wrist and spun her against his chest, his other arm wrapped around her front.

"Not bad, Layla," he laughed, letting her go.

Layla quickly found some distance and assumed a fighting stance.

Zole paused his approach to admire her. "I'm going to enjoy watching the surveillance," he said, wiping blood from his nose and gingerly touching his cheek. "It's astounding how much your sass turns me on. It's the same for Oxy, isn't it?"

"Do you claim to be in love with me, too?" Layla snapped.

Zole gave a shout of laughter. "I've never been in love, but who knows? You're surpassing the females I've engaged with by a long shot."

"Where did you bury them?" she sneered.

Zole's easy smile turned ominous. "Interesting you should ask that question." He licked his lips and looked down at his palms. "Oxman and I have history. Did he tell you?"

"You're nothing like him," Layla hissed through her teeth, wishing she wasn't shaking so much. She was furious, but she was also terrified, having never prepared for the scenario of fighting The Poker without clothes on.

"You have a decision to make," Zole said calmly, his chest heaving with lustful breaths. "It's almost too late for you to walk out of here unscathed, Foxy. I only have so much self-restraint and you have teased me atrociously since we first met. Do we have a deal, or not?"

Layla's face tightened. "I could never willingly bed you."

"You say that," Zole smiled. "And yet you haven't explicitly answered." He stepped forward and Layla stepped back. "You're still sprightly. I guess you didn't drink the water. What a shame."

Layla's jaw clenched.

"Give up, little fox," Zole grinned. "You're naked, in my lair. You don't stand a chance. Agree to my terms. Who knows, maybe I won't catch you again." He laughed as though the prospect was ridiculous.

"When I get out of here..." Layla slowly threatened.

"What's the point of that promise, if you never leave?" Zole reasoned.

"Stop. Staring. At. My. Tits!" Layla snarled, covering her chest.

"My God, he must love sucking those," Zole breathed. "Time is up, Layla. I'll take your answer as a resounding 'no'."

"You're going to rape a helpless woman?"

Zole ruefully smiled. "Perhaps you are disadvantaged, but you are hardly an innocent virgin. Watching your pretty face as you came hard with my cock in your mouth has to be one of the hottest things I've ever seen."

Shaking her head, Layla understood where her chances lay. She reluctantly dropped her arms from her chest, readying to fight again.

Zole gave a low, appreciative whistle, as if she was gifting him a private show.

Layla wanted to shut her eyes for the next part but couldn't afford to. She raised her leg in a dummy kick, rage spiking through her when Zole's gaze immediately zeroed between her legs.

When he lazily moved to block the anticipated kick, and Layla switched and caught him in the side of the face.

Zole went down and Layla's heart sank when she saw he was laughing. He spun on the floor, sweeping Layla's legs from under her. She landed roughly in the blanket, quickly rolling aside before Zole's weight could crush her.

"You're a slippery little devil," he laughed, his fists clenching into the blanket where she had been seconds before.

Layla was on her feet again, her heart pounding with fear of the inevitable. Despite the humiliating convenience of Zole going easy on her, Layla knew she couldn't beat him, and it was so much worse because she was naked.

"Zole," she warned, when he lazily got to his feet, standing intimidatingly tall and staring at her in an alarming way. "I'll fight you until I die."

Zole simply rolled up his sleeves. "I'm going to take you on the floor first," he stated as he slowly approached, stalking her. "I'm going to hold your legs open and lap up your sweet little cunt. Then I'm going to flip you onto your belly and spread your cheeks and bury my face in you and enjoy your mewling."

Layla was only half listening, preoccupied with analysing the room's contents for a proper weapon.

"Then I'm going to fuck you on the bed," Zole continued, his breathing heavier with growing lust.

"Then, I'll tell you you're a lousy lay?" Layla stalled, aware as soon as she tried any fast movement he'd kick into motion.