The Flesh Cartel, Season 4: Liberation by Rachel Haimowitz

Author:Rachel Haimowitz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotica, drama, kidnapping, contemporary, dark, slavery, abuse, intense, gritty, human trafficking
Publisher: Riptide Publishing

Mat woke to the stink of shit. Shit, and hay, and animal, and maybe . . . leather? But the shit was definitely the most urgent.

Scratch that. The pain was more urgent than any of it. Jesus fuck, his back.

He rolled onto his side with a low groan, feeling every inch of scraping hay on his flayed skin.

Hay?

That got his eyes to open. Which was when everything started making sense: He was in a barn. Lying on a pile of clean hay, half on top of what he assumed was a horse blanket, half on the hay itself. Naked. Tacky all over with God knew what. Daylight streaming through a high window skewered right through his eyeballs to the back of his skull. He was burning with thirst. Sore. Abso-fucking-lutely miserable.

Well, at least he wasn’t tied up. And he wasn’t sharing his stall with any horses, though he could hear their soft nickering through the wooden walls to his left and right.

What the fuck was he doing here, though?

And was there a way out?

And if there was, could he make it? It wasn’t like he was in any fucking condition to swim to the mainland.

But he had to try. Fuck it, he had to. He owed it to himself, even if he died partway. At least he’d be free of this fucking hell.

He rolled back onto his stomach, had to use both hands to push himself into a tottering, half-upright position. Scabs across his back split and oozed, and he couldn’t help but moan. Didn’t stop him, though. He clambered to his knees. Planted one foot in the hay—

“Are you awake, then?” a voice called. Cultured British accent, just like Nedry, but definitely not Nedry.

Shit. So much for his escape attempt. He could stay quiet, maybe? Wait until Mr. Bean went away?

But no. Key in a lock, and the stable door was swinging open, and a beautiful brown-skinned young man, lean and strong and naked but for a tiny pair of cargo shorts like he’d come right out of the Blue Lagoon, walked in and did a double take. “Hey, hey, no, you shouldn’t be moving, what are you doing?” He hustled inside the stall, pausing only to shut and lock the door behind him, then crouched down beside Mat, gentle but insistent hands on his shoulders. “Here, lie down, please, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Mat collapsed back to his belly beneath the barrage of concern, vaguely stunned, letting the man’s words wash over him in their almost musical British lilt.

“Good, that’s good, you stay right there, and I’ll get you some water, all right? Name’s Reginald, by the way. And you’re Mathias.”

Yeah, thanks, I know my own name. Seemed rude to say that, though. The kid was obviously a talker, maybe one of those nervous types, jittery around the edges, uncomfortable with silence. Seemed nice enough, though. Mat didn’t want to be a dick to him.

Reginald left, came back a minute later with an armful of supplies and the promised water, in one of those reusable plastic bottles with a pull top like a straw.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.