“Consider the harness a permanent fixture,” Reggie began. He sat back down behind his desk, as if turning the moment into an official interview. “You will not take it off. You’ll wear it to bed. It can go with you into the shower. And you’ll wear it under your clothes to work.”
“I’m going to work?”
“You do have a job, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you won’t be irresponsible with that any more than you’ll be irresponsible with the rest of your life. When you’re in this house, it will be the only thing you’ll wear. You might be advised to stay out of drafts.”
Ah, so cold. So like him. But that coldness was a strange comfort. Being in his hands, she trusted him to make things right in her life. He’d done it before. Perhaps that mysterious way of his would work again.
“Now go,” he said, motioning her off.
“Where?”
“Where what?”
“Where, sir?” she remembered his orders.
“The maid’s room on the first floor.”
“And your maid?”
“She’s been using the apartment over the garage.”
Alex started toward the door.
“I will add, Alexandra, you should expect Gus to whip you every morning while you’re here, and put you to bed at night.”
“Even tonight, sir?”
“By the looks of your ass, it’s ready for more,” he replied. “Then too he’ll be tying you to the bed. That way you won’t be escaping in the middle of the night.”
She said no more and scooted quickly out of the door to find her way to the maid’s room off the kitchen. Obviously the current household domestic had cleaned it out to furnish the garage apartment. Alex was left with the bed, the bureau, a stool and wash basin, and, in the adjoining bath, a commode to pee in.
There were hours to kill before nightfall. Time to think and to try not thinking.
With nothing to do, her mind combed through the past few days, her infidelity, the careless fuck, the tattered remains of a marriage that had bore so many stresses she wasn’t sure it would survive. To be alone with nothing to do but think was as much a torment as all the physical punishments she’d lived through. In an effort to forget it all, she lay down hoping she could sleep.
However just as her mind slipped away, Gus walked in and startled her back to the real world.
Instantly noting the school paddle he held in his hand, she almost cried knowing how her bottom still hurt.
“Master says ten of these,” he said. “Then I’ll tie you to the bed for the night.”
“Oh no, you can’t. Please.”
Gus wasn’t a man to argue. He ignored her commend and went about his business quickly. Making her lean over the cold metal foot rail, he applied ten hard whacks of the wooden paddle to her tender ass. The first smack brought tears to her eyes. The last a burn she was sure could light the oil lamp sitting on the bureau.
Gus followed the spanking with cuffs on her wrists that attached with chains to the head board. Her feet were likewise restrained at the ankles and affixed to the bottom rail. There was just enough slack in her bonds so that if she was careful and strained hard enough, she could pull herself off the bed and pee in a spittoon he left for her to use.
“I’ll be in early,” was all he said as he left.
Chapter Eleven
Gwen was a woman of substance. Though high born, she wasn’t aloof and stuffy the way her breeding might have suggested. In fact, she might have been thought of as a bubble head, considering the rash of short curls on her head and the affectionate laughter and playful features of her sensuous face. She didn’t care about being “sharp as a tack,” She was a woman’s clothing buyer doing her job on gut instinct, while someone else did the book work. She wouldn’t likely be much more than that and that suited her just fine. She was a little rash and certainly cheerful, clearly a refreshing breeze in Reggie’s dismal circumstances. She wasn’t the kind of woman anyone would suspect he’d favor. But that pleased him. The fact that Alexandra had called her a trollop was wholly pleasing. He was certain his missing wife would think he’d gone daft.
Gwen was also sexually submissive. That fact wasn’t addressed by either one until after they were already sleeping together. But Reggie knew eventually her true colors would emerge. In a move he’d never made before with a woman, he let this submissive choose her own coming out party. The waiting provided a self-indulgent diversion, an intrigue that made the affair all the more alluring to a sometimes, and most recently, jaded dominant.
“You ready for dinner, Reg?” Gwen said, popping into his office unannounced.
“Did my secretary let you in?” he asked her, his delivery a bit curt.
“Of course, she didn’t. I sneaked in when she wasn’t looking.”
“Little forward, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so, not after last night,” she said, smiling demurely.
She was recalling the previous evening, hoping that he’d remember, too.
They dined at a quiet café that served homemade style sandwiches and soup, then they strolled along the waterfront watching the slight waves on the lake and the occasional boat. In a park just off their path Reggie had coerced Gwen into the bushes and pressed her against a tree. He’d unbuttoned her blouse very slowly. Exposing her breasts to the night air, he watched as her nipples grew tight to themselves, while she eyed the impassive expression. Once those two little buds were like small rocks between his fingers, he squeezed them as if he could change the shape of granite to suit his desire.
Other people walking by were too far away to see what the couple was doing in the middle of the park by that tree. It looked intimate, so a few would bow their heads and move on. In the back of Gwen’s mind, she hoped that someone would see. She liked a little exhibition. She liked getting caught. And when she raised her skirt to play with her clit, she was asking for both.
Reggie looked on as she orgasmed while leaning against that tree. Moments after, she knelt at his feet in darker shadows to suck his cock. Her mouth swallowed him whole, while his hand grabbed her blonde locks of hair and pulled her face tight to his groin. All her spunk seemed to melt in that one commanding gesture, as if to say she wanted much more. When she was finished bringing him off, she licked away every bit of cum from his cock.
Reggie actually smiled seeing the effervescent face appear a day later in his office. Unfortunately, he thought first of Jocelyn when he saw her smile. His exiled wife had been the one to use her smile and spunk to woo him away from a life that had become dour and oppressive.
“So, you have something in mind?” he asked, wondering what was going on inside her pretty head.
“Hum, I don’t know.”
“But you are scheming,” he said, certain that there was.
“Perhaps,” she smiled coyly.
“Out with it, Gwen, I don’t like suspense.”
He knew she shivered happily hearing him use the tone of command. The look in her pale hazel eyes was mischievous and naughty.
“You tie women up and spank them, don’t you?” she opened with the unexpected question, and Reggie sat back in his chair admiring her unexpected candor. “I’ll bet you bind their breasts and fuck them in the ass, too?” Her eyes glittered with nervous excitement, and he could feel his cock respond. “You know, I bet you have a vintage collection of sex toys you use to torture submissives?”
To her series of questions, his eyebrows merely lifted with interest, but he’d said nothing at that point.
Then finally she got to the main point. “You are a sexual dominant, aren’t you?” He thought she was about to cum just saying the word dominant.
After several weeks of dabbling in hot but very vanilla sex, he was a little surprised that she was so decidedly bold this day. But he hardly minded. This was exactly what he’d been waiting for, and he hadn't had to coax her at all.
“Are you guessing?” he said.
“Kind of,” she licked her lip, cocked her head and she winked.
“Yes…”
“When you speak so aloof and formal, Reg, it runs cold chills up my spine.”
“And that’s how you figured I’m dominant?”
“When you held my hair last night I could sense that someday you’d hold it even tighter. I even wanted you to do that.”
“And that was your clue?” He was pleasantly amused by the way she led the conversation.
“You reek of darkness, Reggie. My heart starts to beat fast, I’m creaming my panties, my stomach acts as though there’s a circus clown jumping inside. I think I’ll cum without even touching myself. I don’t know how I know you’re dominant. I just do.”
“And why now?” he wondered aloud.
“Oh, Reg, because I can’t wait any longer. I want you to have me. It hurts not to tell you. So I did.” She looked a little lost. He wasn’t giving her much encouragement—the man was so damned even-tempered when he wanted to be. “Maybe, I spoke too soon,” she added feeling just a little embarrassed being so frank. “Perhaps I should have waited?”
“You know, if you want me to dominate you, Gwen, you give up something,” Reggie finally replied.
He could visibly see her gulp, look a little as if she wished she could take back the last ten minutes. Like every other submissive he’d known, she was tap dancing with her desire. And so sweetly. It reminded him of Alexandra on a good day, and Jocelyn when she finally allowed herself a little meekness. “Give up?” Gwen wondered what he meant.
“Control, sweetheart.”
“Oh, I can do that,” she said, jumping in enthusiastically. Her head nodded, her curls bobbed.
She was way too eager, Reggie thought to himself. But not something that couldn’t be molded.
“Then you’ll have your chance to try,” he said. “I’ll do your ass tonight, see just how submissive you are.”
Gwen recoiled one instant, and then, as if she was trying to take back her fears, she sighed and offered him a tentative smile. She never smiled tentatively, but this was a good occasion.
“I’ve never had it in my ass,” she said.
This time Reggie smiled. “All the better,” he said, very happy with the idea of breaking her in. They didn’t say another word until they were in his house.
Reggie and Gwen were in his study after dinner drinking brandy. The warm liquid slid down the young woman’s throat, almost burning as harshly as the sexual anxiety was burning in her groin. With two so horny all through dinner, their conversation seemed almost absurd. All Gwen could think of during the meal was having her ass reamed by Reggie’s more than ample erection. This was a dream she often visualized during sex. Being not just ass-fucked, but anally raped. Not damaged goods afterwards, but left feeling complete because her ass had been breached and her cunt was clawing to come. For a long time she’d dreamed of such things, and now to have the possibility turning into a reality—it was almost more than she could bear.
“Get up and turn around,” he finally ordered. “I want to see your ass.” His voice drew on its darker aspect, making Gwen’s belly flutter and those butterflies there were wild.
Shaking nervously like a naughty school girl, she stood up while Reggie remained in his winged-backed chair looking like the prince of darkness in perfect form. If he were to sprout eye-teeth and draw the blood from her neck she wouldn’t have been surprised. But no, he was still very human and very much in control.
As she stood with her back to him, he reached out and drew down her panties, inserting a finger inside her cleft. He went straight for her virgin bumhole.
“Eeeaw!” she let out a small squeal and lurched forward. She looked back at him a bit distraught.
The grave expression he cast her way made her quickly resume her position with her skirt raised, panties down and legs slightly parted.
This time his finger collected juice from further down below where she seemed to be spewing buckets of female juice. With enough on his finger to lubricate his way, the offending finger drove beyond the opening giving Gwen her second anal shock.
Reggie thought she might faint the way she swayed. She was certainly a quick study in submissive arousal. Rising from his chair, he held her close to him while he continued the probing with his finger, and she groaned not so much from pain but from the newness of such play.
Leading her to a broad footstool, he gently placed her on hands and knees. An affectionate hand tapped her inner thighs until she parted them wide. Turning away from her he picked up a leather paddle. Turning back, he began to spank her ass.
“Oh, my good god, no!”
The spanking shocked her, and she was soon a wiggling fright.
“Better steady yourself…you want to be dominated, this is what it means.”
He let loose with a brisk assault, then paused every few smacks to rub the plump rounds of Gwen’s ass and work her anus more. Her moans of pleasure grew crazed and almost frantic. By the time he’d spanked her three rounds worth, he could easily insert four fingers inside the tight chasm. Novice that she was, she was ready for his cock with no more foreplay. It had been a while since he’d enjoyed the pleasure of a woman’s ass. He entered her swiftly, and rode her naughty ass as if he’d been riding it for years.
Gwen’s body responded immediately to the ferocity of Reggie’s anal assault. Fear always kept her from allowing a man to enter her ass even though several had tried. With Reggie, however, as much as she feared she’d balk, she was determined to submit, her first really submissive act with a man, and she would do nothing to dissuade him.
He was tight inside her. So tight, half of her wanted to scream, the rest of her was too confused to know what she wanted. Sparks flew in her brain, her emotions were on overload. She felt used, diminished and humiliated, but was so aroused that she could feel her swollen clit pulsing and a deep longing inside her cunt. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand any more of the furious fucking, she felt him erupt. He pressed his groin tight against her ass and ejaculated. Every pore of her body tingled raw and alive, then without her really understanding what was happening, she was cumming, crying softly, her body spasming in ways she’d never experienced before.
Moments after the commotion ended, Reggie turned her over on her back, and his dripping cock was at her lips where she licked away the last of his present to her. Not even the fact that he’d just been lodged in her behind took away from her desire to taste the substance of him as it was mingling with hers.
Chapter Twelve
Jocelyn was half-dead waking from a sound sleep to stare up at Ian’s face. His eyes looked like the devil’s sparking with evil plans. That disturbed her. His darkness made her psyche coil up inside itself in a childish fetal position. Such darkness had never disturbed her as it was disturbing her now. It had been several days since the night he woke her at midnight and interrogated her with questions about submission. Waking her again in the dead of night, she was afraid.
“Get up,” he insisted. Then not waiting for her to respond, he reached down for her arm and dragged her from the heated sheets into the damp chill of the room.
“What you are doing?”
“Getting you dressed, we’re going out.”
“Where are you taking me?” She was still too stunned to understand what was going on, and stood in the center of the room aghast, watching him rifle through her closet, tossing out clothes. When she failed to dress herself, he did it for her, drawing a lacy lycra dress over her head and down her torso. Usually she wore a black body stocking underneath so that her skin didn’t show.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” she finally leapt out in protest.
“In the daytime perhaps, but it’s night now.”
“And you’re going to take me out like this!” She looked down at her jutting nipples and the pale red pubic hair poking through the fabric.
“Don’t worry, you won’t have the dress on long,” he said.
T
here was hardly enough life in her limbs to carry herself, and there certainly wasn’t enough will to keep Ian from what he was bound to do. He pushed her toes into a pair of stilettos and fluffed her hair as if it would magically fall into place.
“No make-up?”
“Not where you’re going.”
“Where are we going?” Jocelyn finally asked, when they were in the taxi speeding away from the center of town.
“You’ll see,” was all the answer he gave. They rode together in silence until the taxi pulled into the drive of a house that Jocelyn could only barely see. There were no lights gleaming outside and only dims ones burning within.
“You have to promise me you’ll behave yourself or this will be no fun,” Ian warned.
“And what’s behave yourself suppose to mean?” The more she came back to life, the more frightened she became. Ian still looked half-crazed, and the evil in his expression had become more pronounced the longer they sat in the taxi.
“It means you have to submit,” he stated flatly. It was all that simple and he wasn’t planning to explain anything else.
By the time they reached the foyer of the massive house, she knew how she’d spend the remainder of the night. She was immediately stripped of the dress, and then ushered into another room where a collar was snapped around her throat by a stocky man in leather pants. Without Ian, she was even more afraid—though he was hardly reassuring when she was at his side. The man added cuffs to Jocelyn’s wrists and insisted that she step into pinching high heel boots. These were heavily padded, and had “O” rings in three places. She wondered if she’d be hung upside down in bondage before dawn broke the next day. The man’s leather gloved hand slipped inside her pussy and drew out the wetness which he smeared over her pubis—the quantity enough to mat her hair. He didn’t speak a word and she surmised from his grim expression that it would be unfortunate if she spoke. The whip dangling from his belt only added to her present terror.
The Alexandra Series Page 69