by Kitty Thomas
In any other scenario, scores of women would have clawed Astrid's eyes out just to get a chance to be with Angel. And here he was, his entire, total focus... on her.
Finally making up her mind, Astrid went over to the pole. She'd never stripped to classical music before, but there was a first time for everything. She untied the robe and let it pool at her feet. Then she grabbed the bar to steady herself as she slowly swayed with the music. Fuck all the reasons this might be stupid. It was stupider to keep fighting when she was so attracted and hadn't chosen any of this to begin with.
“Good girl,” Angel said. “I want you to move so that the pole is between your legs and grind and slide up against it.”
Had he really just said that? Oh please let this guy be the real deal.
He continued to play but didn't take his eyes off her as she obeyed his order trying not to let such simple words from him completely undo her.
“It's so cute when you blush,” he said.
Astrid had no doubt she was blushing. Her whole body felt hot. She wanted to get the remaining clothing off her just so she could feel cool air on her skin.
“Please... can't you just take me downstairs and fuck me?” And there it was. The humiliating request. Even with those words hanging in the air, more than anything now, it was the tension of the space between them that bothered her. To feel so on display with so much physical space separating them. She wanted him to be with her, rather than far enough away that he could only observe her.
Angel chuckled. “I told you, you wanted me. Strip first, then I'll consider the second request.”
She straddled the pole and rubbed against it. She wasn't sure if this was meant to excite him, or her, because if he didn't stop her, she could probably manage to come this way.
“Slowly,” Angel reminded her.
It was meant to excite him because slowly wasn't going to do it for her in this situation. Somehow this idea excited her even more. The fabric of the panties helped her slide against the cool metal pole. After a few moments of this she moved away and began to unhook the seemingly endless fastenings of the corset while her hips moved in a serpentine fashion to the music.
When she was down to only panties, she cupped her breasts and then put a hand between her legs. Angel stopped playing abruptly and motioned her to him. She went perhaps a little too quickly.
He rose from the bench and took her hand and led her back toward the dungeon. This time she didn't resist. He'd shown no true indication he was willing to hurt her, but it was hard to keep that thought at the forefront of her mind when confronted again with the basement and all the frightening things in it. It was too similar to the set-up Joey had. It was too much like awful things she'd seen and been subjected to. How could she be safe here?
It was one thing to convince herself that things could be okay when she was upstairs, but once again confronted with this room she found herself scared again—scared he would go too far, that he would hurt her. What would stop him?
Angel led her to one of the pieces of sex furniture. It was a long padded bench that had a sort of metal ball shaped thing that rose halfway out of the padding and was otherwise sunk down out of sight.
“Close your eyes,” Angel said.
“Master?” She wouldn't risk calling him anything else right now. She didn't think she had much negotiating power anyway, but she definitely didn't if she couldn't manage following the smallest speech rule.
“Astrid, I promise you're safe. You can ask me to stop, but only if I'm doing something you really find terrible. You can't abuse this privilege and do it just because you think you might be upset at some future point. Understood?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Now close your eyes.”
Astrid sighed and closed her eyes. When her eyes were closed, Angel blindfolded her. She shivered as he pulled the black lace panties down.
“Step out,” he said.
He held her hands to steady her as she stepped out of the panties. Then he helped her onto the bench and made her lie on her stomach straddling it. He positioned her so that the half-protruding metal ball was positioned right between her legs, pressed against her clit. Her wetness was already beginning to lubricate it.
He used restraints to secure her to the bench, both arms and legs.
“Lift your head.”
She did so.
“Now lie back down. I want you to be comfortable.”
When she lowered her head back down, she found she was resting on a soft pillow.
There was a small click like a button of some sort being pushed, and then the metal ball between her legs began to move, rolling in place.
“Oh,” she gasped. Although she'd had a sort of idea of what this part of the bench was for, she wasn't prepared for the actual sensation of it. It was a slow, relentless, torturous kind of building pleasure. Each revolution of the metal ball drove her arousal just a little higher, sensitized her flesh just a little more.
In a distant sort of way, she was aware of Angel collecting various things from different parts of the room. Drawers opened and closed. Things came off hooks. Objects were laid on a nearby table. But her largest point of focus was on the exciting sensations from the masturbatory metal ball that continued to revolve over and over on an endless pleasure treadmill. The metal felt slippery with her wetness, creating an even more intense sensation.
She jumped when she felt Angel's hand on her, then relaxed when he began to gently stroke her back. Then he was caressing her ass. There was another click sound, and the ball began rolling faster, creating even more intense sensation between her legs.
A moan escaped her throat.
“I'm going to let you come once before we continue,” he said. “So don't hold back.”
A moment later, he'd pressed two fingers inside her pussy, and began pumping them inside her. She squirmed and pushed back both against the feverishly moving metal ball, and his fingers.
He continued to caress her ass with his free hand. “Let yourself go, Astrid.”
She'd been just on the edge when he said those words. Suddenly all these things combined to culminate in the strongest orgasm she could remember having. Ever. Astrid clawed helplessly at the leather padding, screaming out her pleasure until she was utterly spent.
Another click, and the intense sensations stopped.
“Now you get to choose from a menu of options of what comes next,” Angel said. His voice seemed to float above her, detached from everything. “Option one: I can untie you and take you over to the bed and fuck you. Option two: I can whip you. Option three: I can turn the machine back on and make you come again. Choose.”
The choice was obvious. She definitely didn't want to be whipped and she was too sensitive to handle the rotating metal ball again right after such a strong orgasm.
“Fuck me.”
Angel chuckled. “I would prefer it if you'd frame that as a request. And address me the way I taught you.”
She felt her voice go soft and shy, “Please fuck me, Master.”
“Very good.”
Astrid knew she was falling into his trap, but option one really did sound the best. And even if it had been the only option, she wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted to feel his body against hers. She wanted to be cradled in his arms. But would he do it that way? Or would he fuck her like an animal from behind?
“A-Angel?”
He was silent.
“Master?”
“Yes?”
“Will you...”
“Will I what?”
“Never mind. Nothing.”
“No. Ask.”
“I can't. I feel stupid. You'll laugh.”
“You want me to make love not fuck,” he guessed. Maybe she really was that transparent.
She didn't reply because she was afraid if she did, that he would say no and break this spell.
Angel didn't say anything else. Instead, he released her from the bonds securing her to the bench
, and helped her up, then he led her across the room back to the padded bondage bed. He laid her out on it, but this time instead of feeling the leather padding that had been there before, she felt thick blankets and pillows which he must have set up while he was going through drawers and moving things.
She flinched at the sound of a belt going through belt loops, and then jumped when the metal buckle hit the ground. Then a zipper. Then the sound of fabric collapsing to the floor. A few moments later, he was beside her on the bed.
Suddenly the blindfold was gone and she was met with his intense ice blue gaze.
“Yes,” he said in answer to her previous request. Yes, he would make love to her, not just violently plow into her like some selfish monster. Like Joey.
Astrid gasped when he entered her. Even with being so wet and his fingers already having been inside her, he was much larger than she'd expected. He waited a moment for her to adjust then began to move slowly inside her.
He stroked the side of her face and rained kisses along her throat and over her breasts. He made love to her in the way of every sappy romance movie. Sweet and long and slow and careful and so gentle that she could almost forget they hadn't met in some sweet safe way. He treated her as something precious—something almost sacred. Given the surroundings of the room, she was surprised he had it in him to be this way.
“I won't always be this restrained,” he said. “But I will be until you learn you're safe with me.”
She was already convinced. Astrid couldn't believe that he could be this careful with her and be evil. At least toward innocent people.
He increased his pace and came inside her with a guttural animal sound that sent a shiver through her. He held her as both of their heartbeats resumed a normal tempo. She hadn't come again, but she didn't need to, and she didn't think she was able to after what had happened on the bench. Angel moving inside her had felt amazing in the way a full body massage feels amazing. It was comforting in all the right ways.
Finally he pulled out of her and got up to retrieve his clothing. He started to dress again. Astrid lay watching him in the low lighting, watching his sleek muscles tighten and relax as he moved.
When he was dressed he returned and extended a hand to her and helped her up off the bed. Then he put the blindfold back over her eyes.
“I'm not done with you,” he whispered.
He put her back on the bench where she'd started out and secured her just as before. There was a click, and the metal ball started to slowly move again.
“Please, I can't take anymore,” she said. Lying in the bed with him moments before, she'd been completely satisfied.
“I'm not done with you,” he repeated. His voice was dark and delicious, and the command in it sent another bolt of arousal between her legs when she'd been sure she was fully spent already.
Astrid heard some rustling and movement off to the side, and then she felt, more than heard, his presence behind her. She jumped when several leather cords snapped across her back.
“M-master, please,” she whimpered, her anxiety spiking at the sharp and unexpected sting. The strike hadn't been exceptionally painful, and if possible, it had heightened the sensation between her legs, but still. “You said I could choose.”
“Correct,” he said. “But I didn't say we were only doing that one thing. You were choosing which we were doing first. All three are happening. You have a whipping and another orgasm to go.”
Tears started to slip from beneath the blindfold. Her crying wasn't as silent as she thought because Angel noticed immediately and wiped the tears off her face.
“I told you, I'm not going to hurt you. If it gets too intense, you can ask me to stop.”
She wanted to ask if that would mean anything, but she didn't want to know the answer. Instead she decided to hold onto this one small thing.
The leather cords came down across her back over and over in a steady stinging rhythm. When she realized he wasn't escalating the amount of pain, she began to relax. When she relaxed, she noticed the strangest thing.
The pain was somehow opening up more space for pleasure. The contrast between the pain and the pleasure building between her legs made the pleasure feel sharper. After each lash, Angel waited and allowed the pleasure to build before continuing on.
He must have been observing her very carefully for signs she was about to come because each time she got to the edge, the leather lashed her back again in a sharp, jolting sting. It pulled her back from the ledge. He let the pleasure from the revolving metal ball build again. He did this over and over until she was driven almost mad by it.
Astrid began to writhe and squirm, not sure if she was trying to get away from the pleasure or closer to it.
Finally, she heard Angel fling the whip away. He pressed his hand firmly against her lower back to still her squirming.
“No. Be still,” he said. “You're going to come for me again.”
Another click and the machine went up to the more intense speed again. Angel held her in place with one hand and used the other to penetrate her with a hard phallic object that felt like what he'd fucked her with the night before. It was made more intense by the blindfold and the machine which seemed intent on pushing her to her limits. She moaned and whimpered and screamed out her second intense orgasm of the day.
He turned the bench off, then stroked and ran his tongue over the places on her back the whip had struck. Her flesh felt hot, and she was sure welts were beginning to form.
Once again, he freed her from the bench. This time he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs to the main floor, then up a second set of stairs. He set her down on a bed.
“Don't move. I'll be right back,” he said.
Astrid lay there in the artificial darkness of the blindfold, trying to pull her thoughts together. The experience had been so intense, she felt as though she had somehow fragmented into a million tiny selves, and she wasn't sure how to reassemble herself back together again.
She'd lost all sense of time, so it was impossible to know if a few minutes or hours had passed when he returned, but probably just minutes. He got in bed with her and pulled her into his arms so that they were both sitting up, her head resting on his chest.
He took the blindfold off and gave her a bottle of water, then he stroked her hair while she drank. Sunlight streamed into the room from his window. She couldn't believe it was still day.
“Are you all right?” he asked after she'd drunk about half the water.
“Yes, Master.”
He stroked her hair and let her lie against him. She felt warm and safe in ways she had never felt before. Just another indicator of her obvious insanity. Finally, Angel got up. “You might want to go take a shower. It'll help you feel more grounded.
***
Angel could hear the shower running from Astrid's bathroom. He thought about joining her, but decided to offer her some space. She had a lot to process. In the end, Angel was who he was. He didn't believe in morals. He believed in power.
He believed in opportunism and taking what he wanted. If another power, be it the government or some other person or group could catch him and stop him and somehow punish or eliminate him, fine. Such a thing was fair play. But outside that, he would simply do what he would do.
Until he'd seen Astrid, he'd been able to convince himself that his moral reasoning wasn't entirely disconnected from the rest of the world at large. Now there was no longer any doubt. He saw her. He wanted her. He took her. Simple as that. There was no justification needed, though he'd attempted to argue with himself about that. He'd done what any natural animal in the wild would have done.
She was his, and she would simply adjust to that reality. Her body had already adjusted. How long would it take her mind? That was up to her. But it seemed she was already halfway there. Or more. It would only take time and repetition before she melted into his control over her... until she trusted it.
Angel spotted one of her suitcases lying open on th
e bed. She still hadn't put her clothing and personal items away into drawers and closets. He didn't know if it was because she hadn't had time yet, or if she hadn't been able to make that psychological leap. Putting her clothes into drawers in his home was an acceptance, however small, of her condition. It was one thing to be coerced into calling him master. It was another, to, without direction, simply start inserting her personal belongings into neat organized places inside his home.
It would be a concession that maybe she wasn't yet ready to give. Resting on top of the clothes still neatly folded in the suitcase, was a small plastic bag. A label on the outside read: Deliver to Sam. Inside the plastic bag was a thumb drive. Angel took the bag and retreated downstairs to his office.
He didn't need to defend going through her things. Anything that belonged to her was now his business. But when he'd seen that bag with the thumb drive, something dark had activated inside a more primal part of his brain—a part beyond reason and logic.
He was unsurprised to find the file encrypted. Angel wasn't a stranger to breaking WEP encryption codes. But even with a packet-sniffing program and all his acquired knowledge, it was a pain in the ass. This was a time where his curiosity overwhelmed his annoyance. It took about ten minutes to get everything set up and his program running. It would be an hour or more before he could unlock it.
Angel let the program run and went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He sat at the kitchen table with a separate laptop and checked his offshore accounts. The money for Callazaro had been deposited that morning. He was glad the client had decided not to be unreasonable.
Astrid came into the kitchen wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe. Her hair appeared darker and longer wet and without the bounce and spring of curls. She looked away from him and sat down at the kitchen table.
Right. Food. It was common for him to forget to eat when he was wrapped up in a project, and Astrid was more distracting than most of his usual distractions. But she was obviously quietly waiting to be fed, like a timid house cat, intent on making her presence at least felt until there was food in her dish.