“Yes,” he murmured, his mouth close to her ear, his breath smelling of cloves. “Give yourself to me.” He dipped his head, his lips closing over her nipple as his fingers continued their relentless, perfect dance on her sex.
She began to tremble and then shudder, her body spasming as she climaxed helplessly against his hand. The orgasm was powerful, rolling over her in waves that slowly, sweetly ebbed as she lay there, floating in an airy cocoon of momentary bliss.
It was abruptly shattered by an explosion of pain that cracked in the air, literally taking Julianna’s breath away. Anders had smacked her spread and swollen pussy with a hard palm, the sting wiping away all the pleasure in a blinding instant. Julianna screamed, slamming her legs together against the unexpected sharp sting.
Anders leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Just as in life, so it is here, Julianna. With the pleasure comes the pain.”
She lay there in shock, a slow fury moving through her. She was as angry at herself as she was at him. Stupid girl, to allow herself to be lulled by his seeming kindness and gentle attention. He was a trainer in a fucking slave camp. How had she been so stupid as to lower her guard, even for an instant? She silently promised herself she would do better.
Thankfully, he rose from the bed, moving away from her. She didn’t even turn to see what he was doing. She lay still and quiet, curling herself into a fetal position on the soft quilt, wishing he would disappear. She drifted in a semi-daze for a while, just glad to be left alone.
She must have fallen asleep, because she found herself being pulled from a dream by the sound of Anders’ voice. “Wake up.” She sat up, instantly wide awake and wondering with trepidation what was next.
“Do you need to pee?” Anders asked.
Her bladder awoke at the question. “Yes…sir.”
He nodded but said nothing more. She looked around the room, seeing and then looking away from the image of herself reflected in the mirrored wall, huddled small and pale on the bed, her hair wild around her face. She didn’t see a toilet. Perhaps he was going to lead her to it. She swung her feet over the side of the bed, ready to follow, eager to relieve herself.
“I didn’t tell you to get up, did I?” He raised a brow.
“Uh, no, but you said—”
He cut her off. “I asked you a question, that is all.”
“But I thought—”
“Hush now. You are being disobedient. A slave does not speak unless asked a direct question, or granted permission, neither of which has taken place here.”
“But…” Julianna trailed off, frightened, confused and angry as she stared at the handsome man. He was tall, easily several inches over six feet. He was wearing a white T-shirt that showed off the bulges of his biceps and the straight line of his broad shoulders. His jeans shorts showed his tan muscular legs, covered in downy golden blond hair. How could someone so good looking be doing what he was doing?
She knew that was a dumb question—goodness or evil had nothing to do with how one looked. Or acted, for that matter. The tenderness and gentleness he’d displayed their first hour together had been shattered with the stinging blow of his palm. She wouldn’t be fooled again. She would be on her guard.
He went to the sink and returned a moment later with a glass of water. “Drink.”
“But I—”
“I didn’t ask you to speak.”
Julianna clamped her mouth shut and took the offered glass. She drank, aware she was hungry again. “All of it,” he commanded, when she stopped halfway. Julianna forced herself to finish the glass. After all, who knew when she might get more? When she was done, he took it from her and set it aside.
“Would you like to pee now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s good to want things.” Bastard, she thought. She watched tensely as he picked up a low stool from a corner and placed it in front of the mirrored wall. “Come sit down here, facing the mirror.” When she didn’t move right away, he added, “Go on, do as you’re told.”
Reluctantly, Julianna got up and moved toward the mirrored wall. She sat on the low stool, knees pressed together. Anders joined her, settling himself in a cross-legged position beside her on the floor. “Scoot back a little and spread your knees wide open. Put your hands behind your head, elbows out.”
Julianna obeyed, closing her eyes. “Look at yourself,” he said. “Open your eyes and look in the mirror.” Julianna looked, embarrassed to see her shaven pussy exposed like this. She let her eyes go out of focus, reducing the image to a blur.
Even so she could feel his eyes in the mirror, moving over her nakedness as if he had every right to do so. She wanted to scream. She wanted to claw his beautiful blue eyes out to keep him from staring at her. She wanted to kill him. Instead she kept her fingers laced behind her neck and did nothing. Nothing at all. What choice did she have?
Anders reached for her sex, stroking her labia, his touch as light as before. He rubbed over her clit and then licked his finger before sliding it inside her. She felt her vaginal muscles clamping involuntarily against him. She felt the pressure against her bladder. He withdrew the finger and, adding a second, moved them over her labia, rubbing directly on her clit until she let out a breath and her eyes fluttered shut.
“Eyes open,” Anders snapped. Then, more gently, “I want you to focus now.” He dropped his hand. “Whatever I do to you,” he continued, “you are to maintain your position on the stool, knees wide apart. If you close your legs or lower your arms, we’ll just have to start again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Julianna’s heart had begun to race in fearful expectation and dread. What was he going to do to her?
“I want you to watch in the mirror. Keep your eyes open and watch.” He crouched just behind her, reaching his arm over her body, his hand now obscuring her sex from view. With a rapid movement, he smacked her pussy, the sound cracking the air.
“Ow!” Julianna jerked and automatically slammed her knees shut.
“Naughty girl,” Anders said calmly. “You’re already out of position. We will start over.” He waited while she forced herself to spread her knees again. “Keep your eyes open,” he said, and again he smacked her. She was more prepared and managed to hold her legs apart. It hurt, but it wasn’t intolerable.
He struck her again, several hard, rapid blows, followed by more gentle smacks, almost strokes, catching her clit with his fingers as they moved upward, mixing the pleasure and the pain. She could feel her clit engorging from the stroking of his hand and then all at once the stroking was replaced by the sharp, painful sting of his palm. She yelped, again shutting her legs.
“And we start again,” he said calmly, staring her down with those vivid blue eyes until she spread her legs. “Wider.” She obeyed.
This time he struck her very hard, nearly knocking her sideways from the stool with the blow. Yelping with pain, instinctively she reached out to break her fall. He shook his head, the thick blond hair swaying over his forehead. “Back in position. Spread your legs.”
Julianna’s pussy was throbbing from the sting, the skin tender and sore. She looked at her tormentor with pleading eyes. “I can’t—”
“You can do anything I tell you to do. I will teach you discipline. Now spread your legs.”
With a tremulous sigh, Julianna obeyed. She managed to maintain her position as he smacked her poor pussy hard, over and over until the sting began to numb into something bearable.
I can do this, she told herself, grimacing at her reflection. I can get through this. It won’t go on forever. Maybe then he’ll let me pee.
Slowly he eased the smacking until he was again rubbing and brushing his fingers against her now swollen, aching sex in a sensual, steady stroke that, despite herself, soon had her panting as she tried to resist the rising pleasure moving through her loins.
I won’t come again. I won’t, she vowed, certain if she did, she would pay for it one way or the other. But, oh, it felt so good, his skil
lful, tender touch easing away the sting. No. Don’t come. Don’t give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing he can do that to you. She drew in a breath, refusing to succumb to his sensual touch. He was leaning over her, his broad chest against her back, his second hand now cupping her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.
In spite of her promise to herself, she could feel the bud of an orgasm threatening to bloom. As if sensing this, Anders pressed two fingers inside her, crooking them as he had before and again finding that sensitive spot.
She was breathing hard and her fingers slipped apart, her hands falling limply to her sides as her head fell back against Anders’ shoulder. “Oh god,” she breathed. He dropped his second hand from her breast, using the tips of his fingers to roll her clit while the fingers inside her wrought their strange magic. She gave up. Why fight when he was going to win, no matter what? She let go, waves of orgasmic pleasure rushing through her body.
Anders pushed her thighs wide apart; they must have fallen closed during her climax. Before she could react, he struck her inner thighs hard with his open hands, leaving the imprint on her skin. As she gasped from the unexpected blows, he smacked her spread pussy, five times in rapid, painful succession.
He stood and she fell forward from the stool, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror, clasping her stinging sex in both hands. She became aware of him standing beside her. He was wearing sandals and even his feet were beautiful, the toes long and straight, the nails perfectly groomed. It was an odd thing to notice, but since she’d been forced to spend so much time on her knees, ordered to kiss the feet of her captors, she supposed it made sense.
She suddenly realized that’s what he must be waiting for. Best to get it over with. Julianna scooted closer, touching her lips to the top of one of Ander’s feet. “Thank you, sir,” she mumbled, “for using this worthless slave.”
She felt his hands on her shoulders. He gripped her arms and pulled her upright, turning her so she was facing him. He held her against his chest and whispered in her ear. “You are not worthless. And once trained, you will be worth your weight in gold.”
Julianna’s bladder ached from the pressure. She could barely pay attention to what Anders was saying. She crossed her legs, afraid she might end up wetting herself before she made it to the toilet. He let her go and she stepped back, wondering where the bathroom was. Reading her mind, Anders pointed to a bucket beneath the freestanding sink.
She looked from the bucket to him and back at the bucket. “Modesty,” he informed her, “has no place for you now. Bring the bucket to me.”
Julianna dragged the plastic bucket, which smelled of stale urine and bleach, and set it in front of him as ordered. Anders stood with his hands on his hips. “Now straddle it, put your hands behind your head and keep your eyes on my face while you pee.”
Placing a leg on either side, she squatted, trying to balance as she laced her fingers behind her head. For a long, painful moment, her body refused to obey her need. She stared into the handsome man’s face as ordered, recalling his remark about the anger he had seen on her face.
She wouldn’t let him see that anger again. For some reason the lyrics to an old song came into her mind: And when they stare, just let them burn their eyes. Holding her head high, she willed her face into calm repose, or at least she hoped she was managing to do that, despite the impotent rage seething inside her.
The urine released, haltingly at first, then in a steady, hot stream into the bucket. When she was done, Julianna didn’t ask for toilet paper. She didn’t say a word. Still squatting and in position, she kept her eyes on his face and waited.
He let her stay that way for perhaps thirty seconds his eyes moving over her face and body. She didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. When he finally moved to the sink, she felt as if she’d achieved a small victory of sorts.
He returned with toilet paper, which he used on her and then dropped into the bucket. “Place the bucket in the hall, just outside the door,” he ordered. “It’s time for your next task.”
Chapter 6
As Julianna set the bucket outside the door, it occurred to her she could make a run for it. She could race down the hallway and fly out the door. If she managed to make it that far, then what? Could she make it to the dock? Could she get into the boat, somehow get it unmoored and the engine started? Or maybe she could hide out among the palm trees, waiting till dark to try and make her escape.
Even as these thoughts whizzed through her brain, she saw the man she had dubbed Fox leaning casually against the wall outside the door. He looked at her, a small smile moving over his face. Julianna left the bucket and ducked back into the room, daunted but not, she told herself firmly, defeated.
The bucket must have been a signal, because as soon as she was back in the room, there was a knock and Fox opened the door. He was holding a large coil of rope in one hand, a pair of scissors in the other.
“Have you ever been bound as part of sexual play, Julianna?” Anders asked. Julianna stared at him. “A direct question,” he prompted softly.
“No, sir,” she replied, nervously eyeing the rope.
“Pete, you know what to do.” Pete. Fox suited him better, Julianna thought, as she mentally adjusted to his real name. As he moved toward her, Julianna shrank back, but there was nowhere to go. “Hands behind your back,” Anders instructed. Pete moved behind her, winding the rope around her upper arms, forcing her to arch to accommodate the tension of her bindings. He wound the rope around her wrists and then pulled it up between her legs, tugging it up uncomfortably between her pussy lips and wrapping it around her waist.
While Pete was working, Anders said, “There is a certain freedom in bondage, as ironic as that might sound to you. But think about it. You don’t have to hold your position—it’s held for you. You won’t be taking your arms from behind your back by accident because you can’t. You won’t forget your posture, breasts thrust proudly forward, because you have no choice in the matter.” He reached for her face and for a second she thought he was going to slap her, but he caressed her cheek, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear.
“Freedom is an illusion, Julianna,” he murmured close to her ear. “It always comes with a price.” Stepping back, he pressed her shoulder. “Kneel. It’s time for your next lesson.”
She lowered herself awkwardly to the floor, nearly losing her balance in the process. The binds were tight and her arms were tingling. She flexed her fingers and pulled against the ropes but she was well and truly bound. Pete was behind her, tying her ankles together. One push, she realized, would send her falling to her side with no way to break her fall.
“Are you hungry?” Anders asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Anders nodded toward Pete, who left the room, returning a few moments later with a tray. On the tray was a bowl of water and a plate with chunks of yellow cheese, bright red strawberries and what looked like peanut butter spread on small round crackers. Julianna’s stomach gurgled and she stared longingly at the food.
Anders retrieved the low stool he’d had her sit on before. He sat down beside her as Pete moved in front of her. At a nod from Anders, to Julianna’s shocked dismay, Pete opened his pants and slid them, along with his underwear, to his knees. He moved closer to her, his penis dangling before her, nestled in a profusion of auburn pubic hair. She could smell his sweat and musk.
Julianna turned her head away, closing her eyes. She wanted to cry with frustration. She wanted to scream that she’d rather starve than suck this man’s cock. She said nothing, the food whispering to her to be silent.
“Time to test your skills,” Anders said. “Every good slave must properly worship her Master. Your task today is made more difficult since you are deprived of the use of your hands. To make matters more challenging, Pete is gay. You’ll have to use every bit of your skill and attention to not only get him hard, but make him come.”
Julianna felt as if she were pinned to the
spot; frozen in place. She would not—she could not—put her mouth on that man’s cock. Anders reached toward her and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling back hard and forcing her face toward the ceiling. Leaning close, he spoke in a soft, gentle voice totally incongruous with his actions. “Please me, Julianna. You have done so well this far. Don’t disappoint me now.”
He let go of her hair and sat back on the stool. Julianna swallowed and blinked away the tears the hair pulling had caused. She leaned forward, trying not to inhale as she hesitantly touched her tongue to the long but still soft shaft. Tentatively she sucked it into her mouth and glided her tongue in a circle around the head. Nothing seemed to be happening. She let the limp shaft fall from her lips and glanced helplessly at Anders.
“Try licking his balls,” he offered. “Pete likes that.” Julianna turned back to her task, the prospect of licking this man’s hairy balls not at all appealing. The thought of the food waiting for her spurred her to action. She leaned forward again, licking at the hairy sac and then taking the balls gently into her mouth. Pete groaned his approval.
She could feel the shaft begin to harden against her cheek as she tongued his balls. Leaning back, she maneuvered until she captured the head of his growing cock between her lips. As she sucked at it, the shaft continued to fatten and elongate. She closed her eyes, trying to recall the face of a man in her past who had attracted her. She couldn’t think of anyone, anyone at all. The only face that rose in her mind’s eye was that of Anders’, with its Nordic perfection. Still that was better than pointy-faced Fox and so she allowed the image to remain.
She bobbed up and down along the now-erect shaft. It was bigger than any cock she’d ever seen, not that she’d seen that many, and she was having a very hard time getting much of it into her mouth. If only she’d had the use of her hands, she would have a much better chance of getting this gay man to come.
Dark Obsessions - Volume I: Four Intense Capture Fantasies in One Sizzling Collection Page 7