Plaything: Volume One

by Jade West

  The old man bobbed his head and pulled the front door shut behind him. I heard his steps fade as he meandered his way back along the cobblestoned pathway towards the main house. I cracked the curtains open with the crook of my finger and cast a quick glance around. I could see no one. The manicured lawns that surrounded the estate were washed in warm spring sunshine. The gardens that lined the pathways were a riot of flowering color; it seemed a stark contrast to the shadowed gloom of the bungalow’s interior and for a moment I considered flinging open all the drapes and letting the daylight spill in.

  But only for a moment…

  I needed Amy’s attention, and I needed to work undisturbed. There could be no distractions – nothing other than the sound of my voice, the reason of my words, the force of my will, and her compliance. She needed to feel like I was her only hope, and that my demands were her only course of action. She needed to feel like nothing else in her world existed, other than me.

  Amy was naked, her dark hair a tousled mess that cascaded down across the alabaster of her shoulders like a shimmering waterfall of velvet. I took a moment to admire her figure; she was a beautiful woman with classical features – high cheekbones, pouting ruby-red lips and eyes that seemed naturally slanted with sexuality. Her breasts were not large, her figure petite. She had a narrow waist and long shapely legs: the legs of an athlete, maybe… or perhaps a dancer. She was slim and very attractive. She was young enough to be desirable and yet old enough to have experienced some of what the world had to offer. I understood clearly why she had been targeted. Physically she was the sum of everything an intelligent man would desire.

  “The key to the handcuffs is on the side table,” I said as I circled Amy, inspecting her critically. I noted the hardness of her nipples and the hint of a scent on her skin that was like the vapour of musky womanhood. My eyes drifted down her body curiously and lingered on the pouting lips of her shaved sex. I arched an eyebrow and looked her a question. Amy seemed to flinch as though caught by surprise.

  “You’re wet?”

  She huffed, turned her face and I saw her eyes hunting urgently across the furnishings for the handcuff key. I caught a hint of crimson on her cheeks, but by the time she turned back, it was gone.

  “I can’t see a side table,” she said, ignoring my question. There was the spark of a challenge in her eyes and I noted it.

  “That’s because the side table is in the bedroom,” I said calmly.

  She pressed her lips into a pout and shifted her body so that her weight was on one leg and her hips and breasts were thrust forward. Her eyes became weary as though I held nothing to intrigue her. “And that’s where you want me, right?” there was an insolence in her voice that irritated me. “You want me on my back so you can fuck me.”

  I paused for a moment and in the few seconds I delayed I saw the tiny cracks in her defiance turn her expression into one of uncertainty. I made her wait. And wait…

  “Yes,” I said at last,” I am going to fuck you, Amy. I am going to teach you to worship my cock so that each moment you go without its press against your lips, or the thrust of it deep inside your pussy, will feel like an emptiness that leaves you utterly bereft. I am going to fuck you from one orgasm to the next until your screams become sobs, your groans become gasps, and your body trembles.” I held up a finger like I was a lecturer making an important point. “But first we need to set some ground rules, and come to an understanding.”

  Amy’s expression had become unfathomable. It was as if my words were still echoing and reverberating behind her eyes. She parted her lips and I heard a sound like a whimpered sigh.

  “You are here with me for seven days, and our relationship is one of perception” I began to circle her again, the sounds of my footsteps on the polished wooden floorboards making crisp and clipped noises that seemed to punctuate my every word. “You can see yourself as my submissive. You can see yourself as a slave. You can see me as a cruel master,” I shrugged. “I really don’t care.”

  “Submissive?” Amy spat the word like it was the thrust of a challenge. “This is sex slavery. Pure and simple. I’ve been kidnapped. I’ve been sold. I will be used for sex. That’s not submission!”

  I shook my head like she was a child who had disappointed me. “Perception,” I said again. “Your role depends on how you perceive yourself. A submissive is someone who is willing to accommodate the needs and desires of their master.” I emphasised the words and left the sentence hanging in the air for a long moment. “You can see yourself as a slave… or you can see yourself as a submissive. But I assure you that your attitude will go a long way in determining how far you progress this week – and whether that journey is tolerable, or excruciating.”

  Amy hunched her shoulders and some of the stiffness went out of her posture. A moment before her stance had been womanly provocative. Now she seemed more like a confused little girl.

  “I have the same decision to make,” I said. I stopped pacing and stood before the woman, so that our faces were just inches apart. I could smell the apple-blossom scent of her breath as it mingled with mine. Her lips were red as ripe fruit, made glossy by the tip of her tongue. Her eyes were wide and dark and vulnerable. I could sense her body quivering.

  “And what did you decide?” Amy whispered softly.

  “That I am not your master,” I said. “I will be your coach. I will guide you and help you. I will train you and I will berate you when you do not perform to my satisfaction. But I will not beat you, Amy. I will not harm you physically in any way.”

  I left her standing in the living room and disappeared through a door. When I came back, the key to the handcuffs was dangling from the tip of my finger. I dropped it into Amy’s upturned palm and took a step back. “The same key will unfasten the lock on your collar,” I explained. I peeled off my jacket and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt like a businessman about to start a hard day at the office. I watched Amy free herself from her shackles. The cuffs and chain of her leash made a harsh clattering sound as they fell to the floor.

  She rubbed her wrists, then massaged the soft delicate skin of her throat, her fingers kneading the flesh like those of a tender lover.

  “Go into the bedroom,” I said simply. “There is a shower. You can wash, and work out whether you want to do this the easy way… or the hard way. When you come out of the shower you will get onto the bed and wait for me.”

  ***

  Amy

  This place was better than the main house, so much better. I closed the bedroom door behind me, scoping out my new surroundings. The bed was huge and plush, crisp white sheets and massive pillows. Two bedside cabinets in carved oak, and a matching chest of drawers. Aside from a couple of table lamps and a painting of poppies on the wall, that was the sum total. Instinctively I rushed to the window, but it was locked. No escape route.

  Like I’d have ever stood a chance. The grounds were walled high. I’d never make it out of there. The beautiful day outside failed to raise my spirits. In the heart of me I already knew. Robert was my only lifeline, the only living person between me and complete destruction.

  Could I really submit to the man? Did I even want to?

  Was I so genuinely so sexually corrupt that he’d already found me wet for him?

  I slid my fingers between my thighs and it wasn’t just the wetness that answered my question. My clit fluttered, betraying every scrap of my better senses. Shit.

  One day, if I ever got out of this place, I’d book myself in for some serious therapy. If I ever got out of this place.

  I could hear Robert pacing the floor next door; his footsteps hard and purposeful. He was a dominant man. Naturally dominant. He didn’t seem cruel, though, and he’d said he wouldn’t attempt to break me with pain. In other circumstances, in other walks of life, if I’d have seen him in the street, maybe I’d have even wanted him. I pushed the thought aside and made my way through to the en-suite.

  My joy at a clean bathroom was so real. I loc
ked the door behind me on instinct, turning the shower to full and stepping under a blissfully warm cascade. It felt so good against my neglected skin. The products hanging up for me smelled divine. I soaped my skin and shampooed my hair, teasing out as many of the pugs as I could manage with my fingers, before lathering on the conditioner.

  For the first time in weeks I felt like me again.

  The reflection in the mirror over the sink was kinder than I expected. I toweled myself dry, then rummaged for more supplies. Whoever had stocked the cabinet was thoughtful. A boar-bristled hairbrush that glided right through my tangles, fresh toothbrush and toothpaste and even moisturiser.

  If I was going to be taken by Robert, at least I’d feel like myself.

  I took a long breath before letting myself back into the bedroom.

  He wasn’t waiting for me, but I was certain he could hear my movements.

  Get on the bed and wait for me.

  My first real instruction. My heart stuttered in my chest as I obeyed. I positioned myself on all fours, facing away from the doorway. Any minute he’d be through, any minute he’d be climbing up on the bed at my rear and taking me, fucking me, making me his. He’d be good, I knew that much. Even Alistair had been good, before I knew better, but Robert was a different animal. The way he moved, the way he spoke, so considered.

  Yet still a stranger.

  I’d fucked many strangers, and in the main I’d enjoyed them. I could enjoy this one, too. If only I could forget the outside, everything but the man.

  I parted my knees a little wider, making myself ready. My fingers found their way down where I needed them, circling my clit in tight motions. Just a man. An attractive man who knows how to fuck.

  I thought about how he’d feel. Would he take me hard? Growl obscenities in that perfect voice of his? Would he pull my hair and slam in deep? Would he take it slow, and tease gently?

  I slipped two fingers inside myself, I’d be ready. My choice. My choice to give myself to him.

  My movements increased their intensity, and I let myself dip to the pillows, the fabric soft against my cheek. My ass was in the air, knees spread wide as my fingers worked me closer and closer to the edge. I could do this… I could be ready…

  My breath was ragged when the door creaked open. I tossed my hair over my shoulder to stare back at him in the doorway, expecting to see him ready with his cock in his hand. But he was nothing of the sort.

  His mouth hardened in disapproval, and it made me feel strangely guilty.

  “I said wait for me.” His voice was calm, steady.

  “I’m ready for you…” I hissed. “You can take me.”

  He closed the door, but took only a single step forward. “Stop,” he said. “Now.”

  My surprised fingers stopped in their tracks, my eyes searching his. “I thought you…”

  “Ground rules,” he said. “You will never pleasure yourself without my permission. I control your pleasure and your release. I will never find you like this again, understood?”

  I nodded, mutely.

  “You will not pre-empt my motivations or my desires. I give a command and you take me at face value. You do as instructed and only as instructed. I asked you to shower and wait for me. If that should happen again I expect to find you showered and waiting for me, do we have an understanding?”

  “Yes,” I managed. The word sorry was on my tongue before I’d registered it. I choked it back. I closed my knees, embarrassed. My cheeks were burning, heart pounding, and that’s when it occurred to me. I’d wanted him to like it. I’d wanted him to lose control and bury himself inside me without restraint, just like any usual man outside of this place would have done. Just some random guy I was fucking without strings, who’d count himself lucky he’d got a shot.

  “Amy, if this is going to work you will have to learn obedience. I need you to fully commit to this process. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.” I hope so. I felt so exposed, uncomfortable. “Shall I move now?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Are you still going to fuck me?” The question sounded so childish. My face bloomed even brighter, skin prickling. I fought the urge to bury my face in the pillows out of sight.

  “Yes, I’m still going to fuck you, but on my terms.” He took another step forward, and my stomach turned a somersault. “Lie on your back, please, comfortably. I want your hands above your head and your legs spread for me.”

  My eyes widened, but slowly I moved into position.

  The slightest smile curved his lips. “Relax, Amy. You will hide nothing from me. You have a beautiful body, I will come to know it very well.”

  I shuffled the pillows until I was comfortable, my arms under my head and legs spread wide enough that my pussy was plainly in view. He approached slowly, his arms folded across his chest as his eyes soaked me in. His gaze burned, tingling my skin wherever it touched. He lingered on my breasts, and my nipples tightened as he watched. He trailed his attention down over my stomach, until he was staring at the most intimate part of me. My thighs trembled, quivering with the nervous desire to shield myself from view.

  “Wider,” he said, simply.

  I inched my legs apart, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.

  “That’s good,” he encouraged. “More.”

  My breath turned shallow as I obeyed, spreading myself so wide I could feel the cool air of the room against the heat of my excitement.

  “Good girl.”

  Good girl… his words gave me shivers, but they weren’t unpleasant.

  He took a seat on the bed at my feet, but made no move to touch me. His vantage point gave him a crystal clear view of my pussy, the rise and fall of my breasts as I breathed, too. I felt so exposed, more vulnerable than I’d ever felt fighting Alistair. I’d been like a wildcat back there, ferocious and out of control. In here I was a different creature altogether, a creature I didn’t recognise.

  “Are you comfortable, Amy?”

  I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  “In order for me to train you, I need to know you. I need to know what makes you tick, what makes you excited, what makes you nervous…”

  His voice was so smooth… hypnotic, almost.

  “Will you answer my questions?”

  My response came easily. So easily. It felt so good to breathe without threat. “Yes.”

  “Good girl.” He paused, and I found myself missing his voice until he spoke again. “You enjoyed pain, that’s why you are here, yes?”

  “Yes. I had some intense BDSM relationships. I enjoyed them. Until Alistair, that is.”

  “Why did you enjoy the pain?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I just did.”

  “That’s not good enough. Please answer honestly.”

  “I like to feel… consumed… out of control…”

  “And pain offers you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does it still excite you? After everything that’s happened to you in this place?”

  “I’m not sure…” And I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  “The release you crave can be found in other ways, Amy. It can be found through touch without pain, it can be found in the beauty of submission, of giving yourself over to another’s will. I’ll show you that release.”

  I found myself nodding. “Yes.”

  “You don’t need to break with your body, only with your mind. Do you understand?”

  “Yes…” And I think I did, with him. He was a different man to the ones I’d known before. So very different.

  “In this place you will learn to submit to me, to obey without question, and you will learn the pleasure that can be found through true submission.” His voice was like satin. “But not just yet.”

  I raised my head. “Not yet?”

  “Not until your body knows mine well enough to relax with me.”

  I flinched at the warmth of his hand on my ankle, a simple contact that sent
tingles right through me. His touch was gentle, yet firm, his fingers trailing up my calf to my knee.

  “Relax, Amy, you’re going to enjoy this.” Slowly he moved, positioning himself up on the bed. “Close your eyes.”

  I did as I was told. I gasped at the touch of his warm lips against my skin, just above the knee. “Do you orgasm through sex, Amy? Genuinely?”

  “Sometimes,” I whispered.

  “Do you enjoy a man’s mouth on your pussy?”

  “Yes…”

  “Can you orgasm that way, without the inhibition of self-consciousness?”

  His breath on the inside of my thigh, so hot. “Um, yes… yes, I can…”

  Another gasp at the pressure of his hands on my thighs, easing them apart. Wider, so much wider. I could feel his breath roving higher, until the warmth tickled my pussy lips. I waited for his mouth, my breath trapped in my throat in anticipation, but it didn’t come.

  “I’m going to make you come in ways you’ve never felt before. Before our time here is up, you will have given yourself to me. Body, mind and spirit.”

  I felt his position shift again but kept my eyes closed. I could hear him undressing, and fought the urge to look at him. When he finally lowered his body onto mine it jolted like electricity, the heat of skin on skin sparking like flames. He took my wrists, pinning them both above my head with just one hand. I murmured as his lips grazed my neck.

  I felt his cock against my stomach. He was hard, and he was big, too. I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, shifting under him to position myself, but he held me firm.

  “No. I decide when,” he whispered. “Only me.”

  His free hand tilted my face, and so softly his lips were against mine. It was me who opened my mouth for him, me who sought out the dance with his tongue. His kiss was deep and controlled, like the rest of him. He consumed me, possessed me, showing more dominance in that one intimate gesture than a string of lovers before him had shown with all of their canes, and crops and whips combined. His tongue was fierce against mine, a hot and heady kiss that made me buck under him, desperate for more. He nipped my bottom lip as he pulled away, just enough to make me gasp, and it broke through my quiet obedience. My eyes flew open, straight into his, and there was a flash of fire beneath his controlled exterior. Lust. He wanted me.