Free Semi-Hard by Candace Smith

  They immediately tightened, and he quickly swiped her wet slit and chuckled.   “I already know your secret,” he whispered, and Dillon was rewarded with a wracking shudder.
    The back of the rig was left open, but when the lights in the garage were turned off, Tiana found herself in darkness again.   Across Erika’s empty cage, Audrey finally spoke to her.   “What the fuck are you up to?   I’ve been putting up with his shit for a month, and he’s never looked at me like he does at you after two days… and you haven’t even been trained.”
    Tiana heard the anger behind the girl’s voice, and the accusation confused her even more.   “I… I don’t know what you mean.   I’m scared to death, and just want to get out of here.”
    “Right,” the girl seethed.   “He’s already got you mind fucked… you don’t stand a chance.”
    Tiana curled onto her mattress without replying to her.   It was obvious the girl felt animosity towards her for a wrong Tiana did not understand.   She lay awake trying to grasp what was happening, but every time her thoughts wandered to Dillon, she felt herself becoming uncomfortably aroused again.   She thought of his arms, holding her and squelching her terror.   More insistent were visions of him restraining her while he orchestrated heated, passionate responses.   On some level, even through the panic of her circumstances, Tiana knew that she was more sexually aroused than she had ever been.
    The next time the lights came back on, Tiana watched Audrey rush to the door of the cage and kneel with her toes curled under and her eyes lowered.   She watched as Dillon walked towards them, dressed in a black tee-shirt, jeans and his boots.   He had left his cowboy hat off, and Tiana studied him without the brim shadowing his face.
    Dillon was a few inches over six feet, with a muscular body that had been hidden by the jacket and flannel shirt.   His eyes were a shining dark brown… not the black they appeared to be when they were shadowed.   He had a firm jaw with a light dusting of whiskers barely masking the angular edges.   All in all, he was a good looking package, Tiana thought… a demented and dangerous good looking package.
    Dillon had always taken his appearance in his stride.   He had hidden behind an attitude of quiet self-assurance in high school, managing to screw three of his teachers by the time he had graduated.   He never dated any of his classmates because he was already aware that his sexual proclivities could land him in serious trouble if one of the gossipy girls wanted revenge.   The teachers never talked, as they either seemed to enjoy their handsome student’s exciting practices… or maybe they did not want the pictures of them bound and submitting to a minor landing in the paper.   He had collected ten percent of their salaries in exchange for his silence and continued attentions.   The girls of his own age had stopped vying for his attention well before his senior year.
    In college, his looks had garnished him a string of young women to date, though he had to tame some of his desires while he worked through a degree in psychology.   His father had managed to keel over six months after Dillon had relocated to his small apartment off campus, leaving his son the house in the desert and enough insurance money to cover his college tuition.   He had no doubt that his unusual sexual tendencies had either been inherited or initiated by his father’s tendencies.   His mother had been out of his life since he was seven, and Dillon suspected that she was buried somewhere under the blowing sagebrush on the acreage.
    Towards his final year, Dillon had narrowed his studies to criminal behavior, and he had several good jobs waiting for him upon graduation.   He worked one year in a prison… not to aid the prisoners… but delving into their methods, and what mistakes had led to their eventual incarceration.   Dillon quit the institution, and