N. Walters - Embroidered Fantasies

Michael’s hands went to his belt buckle and he slowly began to release it. The leather swooshed through the loops of his jeans as he removed it. He held it easily in his hands. Roxanne was paralyzed with fear. She’d felt the heavy leather and the hard metal buckle against her flesh too many times not to know what was coming next.

Anger, hard and swift, broke through her fear. She wasn’t a victim. Not any longer.

He might kill her, but she wasn’t going anywhere with him. Lunging toward the bookshelf, she grabbed a chunk of rock she’d picked up on the beach and threw it at him.

Disbelief flared in his face as he ducked the projectile. She sent a vase flying after it.

“Get out!” She screamed it as loud as she could. “Fire!” She figured that would get the attention of her neighbors faster than anything else. Maybe someone would call the cops.

Michael lunged for her. She darted to the right toward the kitchen. She needed a knife. She could feel him behind her. Getting closer. She stretched out her fingers.

Reached.

He tackled her from behind, taking her down hard on the floor, his full weight landing on her. The air went out of her lungs with a large whoosh. She clutched her throat, unable to breathe.

He rolled her over and grabbed her by her hair, dragging her back toward the living room. The pain in her scalp was horrendous as he yanked her up onto the davenport. She struggled to take in a mouthful of air.

He loomed over her, straddling her thighs as his hands went to the opening of his jeans. “I’m going to fuck you first. Hard and long so you remember who you belong to.

I’ve dreamed of that for months. Every time I jerked off in my cell, I could picture you down on your knees with my cock rammed down your throat. We’ll get to that in a bit after I’ve taken the edge off. I might even fuck that tight ass of yours. We’ve never done that. I did a guy in prison and it wasn’t too bad. It would be a hell of sight better with your smooth, tight ass.” He paused and reached down and caught her jaw between his fingers and squeezed tight. “When I’ve had my fill of you, then I’ll punish you. After that, you’ll make that call and pack your things.” Roxanne desperately tried to pull air into her body. The horror of his words washed over her, making her stomach roil. He was going to rape her and beat her, maybe even kill her. There was no telling with Michael.

She squirmed beneath him, but he was heavy and strong and her head was still spinning from the heavy knock she’d taken and being dragged by her hair. She brought her hand up, raking her nails down his cheek. He reared back and swore.

“You’ll pay for that, bitch.” His pulled his arm back, making a fist. As it descended toward her, she felt something warm against her back. The room started to spin and a bright light flashed.

Roxanne cried out as she felt the davenport disintegrate beneath her. The world seemed to open up around her and she was thrown into an abyss. Her stomach dropped and the breath was sucked out of her body. It felt as if she were in an elevator that was freefalling.

She stuck out her hands, desperately trying to find something to grasp. There was nothing. She heard Michael swearing and yelling. Then she heard nothing at all. It was as though she were sucked into a void that had no beginning or end.

The light flashed again and the world went black.

Radnor finished brushing Xander, his warhorse, and led the enormous black beast back to his stall. “Only a few days and you’ll be in your new home,” he promised the horse.

Xander shook his head and released a puff of air, letting his owner know his displeasure. Radnor slapped the beast lightly on the shoulder. “None of that. You’ll be the king in the new stable and you’ll have many pretty mares to service.” The horse seemed to like that idea. He raised his massive black head and shook his mane as he trotted into his stall. Radnor chuckled. Sometimes he truly believed his horse understood every word he uttered. “There you go, my friend.” He made sure Xander had enough feed and water before closing the stall door. The animal bared its teeth and whinnied, sticking his head over the gate for a final rub.

Radnor patted the horse fondly. Xander was responsible for the biggest change at Craddock Keep. Six years ago, he’d started a breeding program, using Xander as a stud.

The stallion had produced several fine offspring, each worth a tidy sum. Radnor had sold them all in order to help repair the keep and reclaim their lands.

He and Sednar had worked tirelessly for years. This was Radnor’s reward for his hard work and patience. The new stable was almost finished. Built to his specifications, it would allow him to expand his breeding practice and raise more horses, which, in turn, meant more wealth and security for everyone who lived here.

“Stay out of trouble,” he told the horse. He gave Xander one final rub and left the old stable. He squinted against the strong morning sun. All around him people went about their daily work. Some of them nodded as they passed. Others kept their heads down and hurried past, not daring to look his way.

Radnor sighed and raked his hand through his hair. Even now, there were still people who didn’t trust either him or Sednar. Not that he blamed them, but it was still hard to watch, to deal with.

Putting it out of his mind, he strode across the yard toward the new stable. It was a thing of beauty. Long and spacious, it was more than twice the size of the old one. The outside was built entirely of stone. A peaked roof with slate tiles topped it off. Radnor had wanted to build something that would withstand fire. The horses were the main wealth of the keep and had to be protected at all costs. It had been a long and expensive process to quarry the stone from the mountain behind them, but well worth it now that it was done.

He strode inside to inspect the structure. The stonemasons had promised to be finished by today. By the looks of things, they had fulfilled their promise. Heavy wooden gates were hung across each large stall. A wide aisle ran down the center with stalls on either side. There was a larger open area at the end for grooming or examining sick horses. A heavy wooden gate opened up onto a fenced corral that would be used for training and exercising the animals.

There was a room for all the tack and saddles, as well as a sleeping area above for the head groom and his helpers. All in all, Radnor was pleased with the addition to Craddock Keep.

The building was empty now. If all went according to plan, he was going to relocate the horses tomorrow. The old stable, which was constructed entirely of wood, would be taken down, the wood reused in repairs to the many cottages occupied by his people.

Many were in dire need of repair. The wood was being made available free for anyone who needed it.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of fresh hay filling his nostrils. Someone had already begun bringing hay and feed into the new stable. It was probably Quince, the head groom. The man loved the horses as much as Radnor did. His boots hit the stone floor in a comforting rhythm as he walked to the far end of the building, inspecting each stall, checking each gate.

A sense of peace surrounded him, pushing away the restlessness that had filled him all morning. He’d dreamed last night. His sleep was filled with the sight and sounds of a woman. Not unusual for a man who longed for one of his own. But this had felt different. Very real. So real, he’d woken to find himself hard and aching. He’d taken himself in hand and relieved the pressure, keeping the image of the woman in his mind all the while he’d pumped his cock and pleasured himself.

The woman was unlike any he’d ever known. Her hair was unusually short and dark. He wished he’d been able to see the color of her eyes. All he’d known was that she was afraid and he had to protect her, no matter the cost.