Captive Heat

Captive Heat

Carla Santos, a fearless young Beverly Hills cop with a past she thought was buried, becomes a target for revenge after she kills a drug lord's son.

In the midst of a wild night out with her partner Rick Lee, tragedy strikes as their lives take an unexpected turn. Rick is gunned down during a drug deal gone wrong, and Carla is forced to kill Miguel Barrera--an event that will change her future.

Months later, Carla's life takes an even darker twist when she is abducted by drug lord Carlos Barrera as an act of revenge for killing his son. Held captive in a secret basement under a Beverly Hills estate, she is stripped, humiliated, bound, spanked, trained, tormented, and used. She is also framed to make it appear she's part of Barrera's cartel. Determined to break her spirit, Barrera keeps her drugged and plans to train her as his very own sex slave before auctioning her off, as a former cop turned sex slave, to the highest bidder.

As Carla fights against this unspeakable fate, she finds herself in a battle for survival, both physically and mentally, as Barrera and his men torment her for hours every day. With the police searching for her as a suspect in a major drug crime, Carla also knows she must find a way to escape and clear her name before it's too late. But she is always drugged and watched, so there is no escape.

Forced into being trained as a sex slave, will Carla submit to her captor's depraved whims and spend the rest of her life in a brothel, or fight to reclaim her freedom? Find out in this dark erotic thriller that explores the depths of human depravity.

LOTS of noncon, dub-con, captivity, bondage, and all the other things you've come to expect from Olivia Bond.

Olivia Bond has written several popular novels under another name. Captive Heat leans into women's fantasies about giving up control, but this is all just fantasy and Olivia would never condone this kind of behavior in the real world without mutual consent. If this kind of material bothers you, don't buy it. There is a full list of content warnings at the start of the book and on Olivia's website at oliviabondx.com

Sample below!

Available no later than January 30, 2025 (probably sooner).

Captive Heat

Olivia Bond

(For Adults Only)

CHAPTER ONE

Officer Carla Santos leaned back in the seat of her black and white police cruiser, parked at the intersection of two winding canyon roads. She was dressed in her black Beverly Hills Police Department uniform with her long black hair tied back in a ponytail. She tipped her hat up slightly to admire the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the pavement. Birds chirped harmoniously, their melodies punctuating the peaceful atmosphere of the canyon. The windows were open to take advantage of the warm breeze, which carried the cough-drop scent of eucalyptus trees. Carla couldn't help but smile, appreciating the rare moments of serenity her job afforded her.

Her brief reverie was shattered by the roar of an engine. A sleek, black, stretch limousine barreled past her, racing uphill with reckless abandon. Her instincts kicked in and she snapped to attention, noting the potential danger this speeding vehicle posed.

"Can't let that slide," she muttered under her breath as she started the cruiser and pulled out onto the road. Accelerating with purpose, Carla pursued the limousine, enjoying the thrill of the chase. She paced it at sixty miles per hour, well above the posted twenty-five speed limit for these treacherous bends. As they navigated the sharp curves, sliding and kicking up dust, Carla slowed only enough to maintain control while keeping the limo in sight.

"Enough's enough," she said, flipping on her flashing lights and hitting the siren briefly. The wealthy residents complained if they made too much noise. The urgent wail cut through the calm like a knife, signaling the driver to pull over.

The limousine complied, slowing down as it turned into a private driveway blocked by an imposing metal gate and fence that was probably fifteen feet high. Security cameras glared down from their posts, suggesting a well-protected property lay beyond. Carla followed the limo, parking her cruiser behind it and stepping out with brisk confidence. Adjusting her hat and smoothing her uniform as she grabbed her citation book, she prepared herself for what she assumed would be a routine traffic stop. Since limo drivers are professionals, she wasn’t worried that the driver would do anything strange. Privileged teenagers were the fastest drivers in these hills, and a lot more trouble.

Carla scanned the area to ensure there was no other traffic or potential threats to either vehicle. Cautiously, she approached the driver's side window, her hand resting on her gun holster as a precaution. The window rolled down smoothly, revealing a male chauffeur wearing a black hat and a crisp suit. He greeted her with a warm smile, his hands carefully remaining on the steering wheel.

"Good morning, officer," he said, his voice professional and polite.

"Good morning, sir," Carla replied firmly. "I need to see your license and registration, please." As she spoke, she watched his eyes and the seat beyond him to assess the situation and gauge any hidden intentions. The chauffeur nodded and reached for the requested documents, his movements slow and deliberate. It seemed like a typical traffic stop.

Carla's pen hovered above the ticket book as she started to write the citation, noting the date, time, and weather. When she glanced up again, the chauffeur was holding a handgun aimed at her. Carla's eyes went wide as she instinctively reached for her own weapon.

"Put your hands up, officer!" the driver snarled, his voice no longer polite but cold and menacing.

As if on cue, three men in suits jumped out from the back of the limousine, quickly surrounding Carla. Her breath hitched, and before she could do anything else, the men pummeled her with brutal punches, leaving her gasping for air. They disarmed her, tore off her Kevlar vest, hat, and radio, and forcibly restrained her.

Amidst the chaos of the ambush, Carla felt a searing sense of violation as one of them ripped open her shirt while two others held her arms. The third man used a knife to slice through her sports bra, exposing her jiggling breasts. She screamed at them, anger and humiliation burning through her body as they patted her down, squeezing her breasts several times in the process as they made approving noises.

"Get off me!" she spat, struggling to free herself, but they were relentless. Something hit her in the side of the head, making her dizzy. Eventually, they cuffed her wrists behind her back with her own handcuffs, rendering her helpless.

One of the men donned her hat, smirking at her as he drove her police cruiser up a ramp and into the back of a semi-trailer that had just arrived. The fortress-like gate rolled open, revealing the dark, ominous estate beyond. Carla's heart pounded as she was shoved into the back seat of the limousine—that was one of the rules, never let them get you into the vehicle.

"Nice to finally meet you, Officer Santos," a sinister voice rumbled as she came face-to-face with a man she recognized as drug lord Diego Barrera of the Buenaventura Cartel based in Colombia. He gave her a wicked smile.

"Y-you won't get away with this!" Carla stammered between ragged breaths, trying to sound confident despite her fear. She strained against her handcuffs, trying to sit upright.

"Ah, but we already have," Diego said. The other three men climbed in on both sides of her. As Carla struggled between them, a chloroform-soaked rag was slapped over her face. Desperate to stay conscious, she tried to hold her breath, but the overpowering fumes seeped into her lungs.

As the limousine sped through the open gate, darkness swallowed her, and she lost consciousness.

***

Carla's senses gradually returned, the darkness around her giving way to a brightly lit basement. The air was cool and damp against her skin, making her nipples hard, and she could feel the rough concrete beneath the toes of her bare feet, which barely touched the floor. Her hands were numb. Her wrists and arms ached from the tight ropes binding them to a ring in the ceiling, forcing her to hang with her arms stretched above her head. She began to panic as she realized she was still in uniform except for her gun, utility belt, and radio were gone. Her shirt hung open and loose, the buttons missing, and she remembered that they had cut off her bra.

"Awake at last, Officer Santos," Diego Barrera's deep voice made her shiver. He stood up from his chair and strolled toward her. He was in his early fifties with short black hair, a thick mustache, and an athletic shape, which she could see more of now because he had removed his expensive suit coat. He stopped within two feet of her and thumped his chest. “I am Diego Barrera. You may have heard of me. Although it took some time to hunt you down, I also know much about you, but the main thing I know about you is that you killed my son, Miguel. And for that, you will pay dearly."

"Your son killed my partner!" Carla spat, defiance burning in her eyes despite the fear that threatened to consume her. She knew she had to stay strong if she wanted any chance of escaping this hellish situation alive.

"Being a cop is a dangerous profession," Diego said dismissively, his gaze never wavering from hers. With a flick of his wrist, he produced a switchblade, and Carla's heart rate spiked. "But I'm sure you already knew that."

"Whatever you're planning, it won't work," Carla warned, her voice shaking slightly. "The police will be looking for me."

"Ah, yes. About that," Diego smirked, tracing the edge of the blade along the seam of her pants before effortlessly slicing through the fabric. "You see, we've made it appear as though you've aided the cartel in a major drug crime in San Diego. Your car and other evidence will be found there. With your cruiser’s GPS locator disabled, no one will be looking for you in Beverly Hills, and it won’t look good for you when they find it on the docks." He paused, enjoying the terror that flickered across her face. "You belong to me now."

“That will never work,” she said, knowing that it could very well work.

He snorted as her pants fell away in shreds. “It will work. We’ve even framed federal agents using similar methods. It’s amazing how quickly cops will turn on each other if you give them enough evidence.”

Carla refused to believe that her fate was sealed, that she'd be trapped here with this monster. As Diego made a few quick cuts and stripped off her shirt, revealing her breasts under the bright lights, she focused on searching for a way out, for a weakness she could exploit.

He cupped one of her large breasts, hanging at the level of his face, then gave her nipple a lick and a tight squeeze that made her flinch. "You have such lovely assets, Officer Santos. It’s a shame you have to keep them hidden under that uniform of yours."

"Go to hell!" she snarled, her voice full of venom.

"Maybe," Diego replied with an amused expression, "but you'll be joining me there, Officer Santos."

Carla's body trembled as Diego paced around her in a circle, evaluating her as he ran his hands over her skin. "Now, let me tell you what's going to happen next," he began, his voice low and threatening. "You'll be trained as a sex slave. Depending on how well you learn and perform, you'll either be sold at auction or sent to work in one of my brothels."

He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. Carla licked her dry lips and swallowed. "I imagine you'll fetch a high price at auction; you're quite beautiful without that uniform. And the fact that you were a cop? Well, my buyers don't like cops. It's a special pleasure to get their hands on one, and I expect they’ll keep you alive for a long time." His eyes gleamed with sadistic delight as he added, "But don't worry, I'll personally supervise your training for the next few months to prepare you for that. We have much experience in this area."

Carla's mind was trying to process the horrifying reality of her situation. She knew she had no choice but to endure whatever torments Diego had planned for her, but she wouldn’t make it easy for him. She steeled herself, vowing not to give him the satisfaction of breaking her spirit.

"Fuck you," she spat, defiance etched across her face. "I'll never cooperate with you."

Carla screamed as the knife flashed and he cut off her panties, quickly shoving two fingers inside of her. She was now completely exposed and helpless. Carlos nodded to one of his men in the corner, and a ball gag was shoved into her mouth, effectively silencing her cries.

"I'm going to take my time with you," he whispered menacingly, his breath hot against her ear. "I'll do all sorts of disgusting and depraved things to you that you won't enjoy at first...but you will eventually, and then you'll beg for more. Your body will betray you. Your mind will break and you'll submit to my will."

Despite the fear and humiliation coursing through her, Carla tried to focus onto the fire of determination raging within her. She would resist him every step of the way, biding her time until she could find a way out of this nightmare.

Her face was wet, and she realized she was crying. She could plan to fight all she wanted, but the fact was that this situation was bad, very bad, and unless a miracle happened, she wasn’t likely to survive it.

"Ah, I see you're starting to understand your situation," Diego said smugly, quickly thrusting his fingers in and out of her wetness, causing her to moan involuntarily. The sound was muffled by the ball gag lodged firmly in her mouth. He licked and sucked on her nipple again as he continued his cruel assault on her body. "You're mine now, Officer Santos. Completely at my mercy."

Carla struggled to maintain her composure, hating her body for reacting to what he was doing to her.

"Let's see how much you like this," Diego taunted, increasing the intensity of his movements. Despite herself, Carla couldn't help but feel her body responding to his touch, betraying her will to resist. It was a sensation she despised, yet it also fueled her determination to escape.

As Diego continued to violate her, Carla focused on her surroundings and tried to examine the details of the room. There were no windows, but a small door loomed in one corner—a potential exit other than the staircase leading to the main exit. The walls were lined with shelves filled with a huge variety of sex toys, tools, and restraints, a testament to Diego's twisted desires. And then there was the small cage made of iron rebar.

"Your body is such a beautiful instrument, Officer Santos," Diego whispered into her ear, his breath hot and sickening. "I can't wait to see all the ways I can make it sing for me."

Keep dreaming, you sick bastard, Carla thought to herself, watching his every move like a hawk. I’m going to get loose and kill you.

She realized she was moaning as his fingers pumped in and out of her as he lightly bit her nipple and used his other hand to rub her clit. When it seemed like she was about to come, with ripples of pleasure moving through her, Diego finally withdrew his fingers, smiling as he saw the flush that had spread across her cheeks and chest. He seemed to take great pleasure in her humiliation, but Carla held onto the idea that, deep down, she was stronger than him.

"Rest up, Officer Santos," Diego said, stepping away from her. "Your training begins tomorrow."

Available no later than January 30, 2025 (probably sooner).