Page 21 of The Deeper Game (The Kinky Bank Robbers #3)

Chapter Fifteen

I woke up on an uncomfortable patch of sticks and dirt.

What?

I was in some sort of forest.

I rose up, stabilizing myself against a nearby tree trunk, eyes straining to see in the faint moonlight, ears alert for any sound beyond the crickets and the rustle of breeze high up in the treetops.

Memories started falling into place. The shower. The rough hand. The smell, so not my guys. I’d been drugged and brought here.

The horrible thought came to me that I could’ve been raped while I was unconscious, but in the next moment, I knew that I hadn’t.

Still, my heart pounded in my chest. Everything seemed surreal. Even the slim crescent moon in the sky. I could hear highway sounds, but it was hard to pinpoint the direction they were coming from.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling woozy, breathing deeply, trying to clear the cobwebs from my brain.

Determine where you are, I told myself.

No city lights were visible to orient me. If I ran the wrong way, I’d be going deeper into wilderness. I gazed up at the moon, sitting senselessly on the side of the sky. Unlike the sun, which rises in the east and sets in the west, the fucking moon just flits all around.

Thanks, moon, I thought . Thanks a lot!

I tried to listen, smell, straining to figure out if I was maybe near the ocean. Could I be in the Santa Monica Mountains?

I swallowed, afraid to make a move, like I might alert my captor, who surely was out there, watching. Was this some part of a sick game? I’d seen a few movies where people were dropped in the wilderness as human prey. Could that be what was going on?

With a sick feeling, I remembered the feather guy. But he was in the hospital, right?

I sucked in more huge breaths, trying to wake myself up, thinking I should focus on finding a weapon.

It was then I noticed my clothes. I’d been dressed in some sort of a skimpy, tattered little dress, like a figure skater might wear if she were playing an impoverished waif or something.

Maybe skating to the theme song of Les Miserables or Peter Pan.

The skirt had jagged panels of fabric, and I had no panties on. And pointy cloth moccasins.

Well, there was one clue about who had done this. It was somebody who hated good fashion!

And then I took another look at the outfit. Because it looked strangely familiar. I realized then that it was what the elf girl in the forest wears in the woodsman cartoon porn.

Was it my guys behind this? I couldn’t be sure. I kept coming back to the smell of my abductor.

The smell had been all wrong. And the way he touched me. And drugged me. Did my abductor know my cartoon porn habit?

Somewhere in the distance behind me, a stick snapped. Then there was a crunch. A footstep.

Adrenaline shot through me, and on instinct, I took off running—no easy thing in the thin moccasins.

More footsteps sounded behind me— crunch, crunch, crunch. The footsteps increased, both in volume and number. Suddenly a dark, hooded figure stepped into my path.

I screamed and turned, heading back the other way, only to run smack into the very solid chest of another hooded man.

“Zeus?” I said. He felt like Zeus.

Hands grabbed me from behind and a sack was thrown over my head. It was scratchy, like burlap.

“You guys?” I cried out. “Come on,” I pleaded.

Surely it was them, cleverly fooling me.

“You have to tell me if it’s you or else it’s not fun!”

I was carried a ways and laid onto a strange, rough wooden platform. I tried to wriggle and kick away. A third man had joined the first two, or at least it seemed like a third one was there. He was trying to lock my kicking feet into cuffs.

“Come on,” I said. “I know it’s you.” Or, I was pretty sure.

A pair of hands stood me upright on the wooden platform; another pair of hands locked each of my ankles into a wide stance, via a spreader bar, it seemed.

No way could I run with that thing on. I flailed wildly; at one point, my knee connected. Somebody grunted, gripping my ankle harder and forcing it into place, until I was locked onto this strange platform.

“Odin?”

More hands lifted my hands up so that they were level with my ears. Something smooth and wooden grazed the front of my neck and the front of my wrists, like my neck and my wrists were being eased into semi-circles that had been cut into wood.

“I know it’s you,” I said hopefully through the hot burlap.

Something grazed the back of my neck and the backs of my wrists. And then there was a click.

It was as if two sets of semi-circles had fitted together, trapping my neck in a large circle and my wrists in smaller circles. This board thing forced me to stand upright in a kind of goalpost position, spread-legged. My chin rested on the smooth, wooden edge of the hole.

The elf-girl in the forest was often put in configurations like this by the evil woodsmen.

I yanked and squirmed to no avail. I moved my hands around; something else clicked and my palms came into contact with two knobs I could grip onto. My hands closed instinctively around them.

All I heard was the rustling of leaves. I stood there, trembling, blinded by the bag on my head. I used the knobs to pull up my weight and kick out my feet, spreader bar and all. I came into contact with nothing but air.

Large, rough hands caressed my hips, and I jerked. They went away and then came back again. There was something familiar about the touch.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, still woozy.

A voice. “Shh.”

The bag was whisked off my head—finally—and I gulped in the cool air. A large, hooded figure stood in front of me, shrouded in shadows aside from where the moonlight hit one of his big, black boots, which was scuffed up in a rather familiar way...

“Jesus!” I said. “Zeus!”

No answer. A hand brushed my hair from my eyes.

“You guys?”

“Shh.”

“Come on, say something!”

The figure before me stepped closer, into a shaft of moonlight; I could see now that he wore a green hat, green tunic, green tights, and boots. I’d recognize his big body anywhere. Zeus.

“Oh my God!” I said, slightly pissed off. “Zeus! You scared me!”

“I don’t know who Zeus is, elf,” Zeus growled from under the hood.

I jerked my arms downward, trying to free myself. “Let me out of this.”

A hand slid around and touched my breast through the little dress. “This can go easy or this can go hard, elf-girl.” Thor.

“You scared me!” I said, heart pounding.

I didn’t know whether to be angry or what.

They were reenacting my favorite cartoon porn storyline.

But seriously, they’d gone pretty far, abducting me like that.

Though, to be fair, it’s similar to what happens in the cartoon.

Except she was gathering flowers in the forest at the time. And they don’t drug her.

Odin, also in a hood and tights, came up beside me and grabbed my hair. If I hadn’t known it was him, I’d have certainly known by the way he grabbed my hair. “We can ravish you easy or hard,” he said. “Your choice.”

“What?” I asked stupidly.

“It’s a real question, elf.”

My heart pounded in my chest. My bank robbers wearing tights . For me. “You’re all in tights,” I said.

It was sweet. I was into costumes, but they typically weren’t. And here they were in tights! And they’d created this platform, which had clearly been modeled on one of my favorite dirty cartoon porn scenarios. Had they built it themselves?

The more I thought about it, the more I hoped so. Because how exactly would they have explained the device to whatever carpenter they’d hired?

Zeus disappeared from my view.

“Easy or hard, answer the question,” Odin said from under his hood. I couldn’t see their faces. It was wild and hot, and I found myself trembling with a mixture of leftover fear, but also excitement.

“You think I’m putty in your hands now? You think I’ll just do what you want?”

By way of answer, Odin’s hand tightened in my hair. The woodsmen ravished her hard in the scenarios I favored.

“I won’t answer your stupid questions,” I said.

I could feel Zeus watching me from under his hood, and I heard Thor rustling around back there. I felt my nipples tighten under the wimpy fabric.

“Hard, then,” Odin said.

I gripped the smooth knobs. My blood raced.

A finger lifted my skirt from behind and tucked it up into the bodice of my outfit.

I could feel the cool night breeze on my bare ass.

One finger trailed down my tender ass skin, tracing a lazy design of some sort.

It was like my entire soul focused on that finger, what it would do next, where it would travel.

A delicious warmth spread through my nether regions as I yearned for the finger to travel further southward and inward.

Odin let go of my hair.

It was here I realized I was panting.

Crunching footsteps sounded as Zeus approached. Even when he was near, I couldn’t see his face from under the hood. They’d positioned me so that the moon would be behind them when they stood in front of me. Unlike me, my hunky bank robbers knew exactly where the moon would be when.

Zeus said, “We’re going to have some fun with you unless you tell us to stop, and I think you know what that means.”

Mississippi , he meant.

He touched something to my belly through the fabric. Because of the way my head was trapped, I couldn’t tip my head to look down and see what it was, which made it all the more exciting in a scary way.

I thought it might be a stick until he brought it up near my face and touched my cheek with it.

A riding crop.

My eyes widened.

“Do you? Do you know what it means?” he persisted.

They’d never used one of those before. “Yes,” I gasped.

“Good.” He walked back to where he’d originally stood and set the crop against a tree. Then he lifted his tunic, just enough for me to see his huge package barely contained within the stretchy green fabric. It was all wrong in a way that turned me on.

“Get the elf ready for me,” he said. An actual line from one of the cartoons.