“And where did these come from? I thought I told you to keep this cunt of yours naked?” She said nothing, seconds later feeling the crack of leather against her ass. “Is that not what I told you,” he demanded an answer.
“Yes, Miles.”
“Too bad. I was planning to fuck you, spank you a little, and then fuck you. Now I’ll have to punish you. You’ll regret this blunder.”
She wasn’t surprised that he’d spank her ass; the leather had already heated her breasts. But now she’d angered him and worried over the consequence of her misbehavior.
The leather flew ferociously, striking her bottom in fast, repeated strikes. She wanted to cry, but kept her anguish to herself. She couldn’t have a janitor or curator appearing on the scene and finding her this way. She groaned deeply, and struggled with her hands—only to find the bonds becoming tighter the more she pulled against them.
“Please Miles, please stop, I’m so sorry,” she whispered passionately.
He ignored the comment and continue the blows.
The awkward position over the wooden sawhorse was painful; and she had to spread her legs wide to keep from toppling forward. But this position only opened her cleft more lewdly and allowed the leather to strike between her rear cheeks where the cuts blistered the skin.
She wanted to let loose with a frantic howl, but couldn’t.
When Miles finally stopped, she hoped this was the end to her ordeal, but instead, she saw the man fish around the storeroom. “This should do,” he said.
From the corner of her eye she saw the bamboo in his hand—a piece from an old display, tossed in a corner, no use to the museum. If she’d known what it would do to her rear, Tessa would have begged him to find something else.
A sizzling sound cut through the air, an instant later, the bamboo landed with a snap across both ass cheeks.
“Yeeeaw…” she couldn’t help the cry that surfaced, splitting the air with her instantaneous woe.
“It hurts, doesn’t it, Tessa?” he chortled satisfied that he was cutting her more deeply than he ever had before.
He landed another strike in the same place, and she fought to squelch the pain and the scream about to blare from her mouth. Another two strikes with the same fierce action, and sobs spilled from her gut. Soft as her cries were by necessity, they were as impassioned as a blood curdling scream. “No more please,” she wailed at Miles in a savage whisper.
“No more what?” he said, as if he were laughing at her. Another two stripes devastated her rear. She would have fallen forward on her head, just to get away from another, but thankfully, that wasn’t necessary. Miles pulled her up by her bound hands, and held her around the waist, whispering in her ear.
“A good submissive anticipates her dominant’s will, and she never, ever, fails to do as she’s told.”
Her sobbing made her body heave, made tears spill on to Miles’ arm. He waited until she had quieted body and soul, holding her, letting his forceful command consume her. Though calmer, her bottom still burned with a fierce fire tearing through the wounded flesh.
At last, he let go of her waist and pushed her back against the sawhorse to view the damage. All six cuts had left cruel welts, and in two places he’d broken the skin, just slightly. Removing his handkerchief, he dabbed the specks of blood away.
“How lovely,” he exclaimed. “I imagine these will last some time. You’d better watch yourself, Tessa, or you may never heal this tender place.” He pulled her to her feet again.
“I’m sorry about the panties, I wasn’t thinking,” she apologized.
“Don’t waste your apology. Following my wishes is what matters.”
“But, I wasn’t certain if you still wanted me.”
“Why would you think that?” he asked, both annoyed and surprised by the admission.
“Martine.”
“Really? Martine thought otherwise, that you were actually aroused by my screwing her.”
“I am, but I don’t think I should be.”
“Why’s that?”
“I want you totally devoted to me,” she said innocently.
“And I am. Completely.” He was totally sincere. “Remember, Martine is not you.”
“I know that.” She tried to smile.
“Then trust what we have together, little captive.” He patted her on her bare, bruised rear.
“I wish I had,” she confessed.
“I would think so. And it’s too bad. Now, you’ll just have to wait for another time.”
“Another time?”
“For sex,” he explained. He looked down at her exposed womanhood.
With her skirt still around her waist Tessa gazed down at her cunt, at the curly hair, and the soft swell where it made a mound full enough for Miles to grab with his hand. He looked as if he wanted to change his mind, and for an instant, she was sure he’d screw her. But instead, he simply ran his hands through her pubic hair. “I think I’ll have you shave this soon,” he informed her. “The hair will become an obstruction to other things. As soft as it is to touch, what’s underneath is even softer.” He pulled at her hair as he made his point.
“You want me shave it for next time?” Tessa asked.
“No, not yet. When I tell you. Give you something to think about. Before I’m finished with you, love, your body will tell all the world what you are.”
The very idea boggled her mind. She couldn’t even guess his thoughts, though she was particularly curious about one comment, “You’re planning to “finish” with me, as if I’m some project?”
He smiled. “No, my darling, there’s no real finishing, you can be certain of that. If nothing else, whipping your delicious body will keep me satisfied for a very long time. And on that account, we’ve only begun to discover your limits.”
His implications were threatening. But he was also reassuring. She couldn’t imagine losing him to Martine, or anyone else for that matter. She couldn’t imagine losing the wildness, and the fine freedom he gave her each time they were together.
“Think!” he said again. He pulled at her pubic hair with a fierce tug, as if he were going to pull it off. “Imagine how it might feel to have your naked cunt take the whip.”
She cringed. Yet her eyes were fixed on him, and his adoring gaze kept her from letting the horror of his designs unnerve her. Wrapped in his embrace, she could only feel protected and cared for.
He yanked at the thong panties, still drawn up inside her, the material burning into her the way the cuts had burned. He pulled a pocket knife from his pants and cut them free, then pocketed the useless piece of cloth, as if she didn’t trust her with them.
“Three days,” he said, making quick work of the knots that still held her hands bound behind her. “The car will come by for you after work”
Then, he was gone.
Her bottom ached. The were apt reminders of his dominance over her. Her skirt rubbed against them and with every step she wanted to wince. What could he possibly do more except wield his passions across her more tender places?
Chapter Eight
Tessa was dropped at the door of Mile’s garret on Friday night. His limousine and driver had been in front of the museum waiting for her when she left that afternoon. No Miles, just his aide, ready to whisk her away into another unknown.
She wondered how long this interlude from the real world would last, if she wouldn’t rather this be her entire world, reveling in bondage, surrendering to Miles’ capricious schemes. His odd carnival feast of lust made her tremble so, but she’d never been so satisfied with sex or her life.
For three days after his surprise visit to the museum, dizzying expectations wracked her brain. Her body was constantly hot, though there was little place to put her raging urges, since Miles still seemed more enamored with Martine than he was with her—at least when it came to having his own sexual needs satisfied. Martine went out with him two more times, leaving the apartment each night dressed whorishly, clothes barely covering
significant sexual body parts. Her ass had a splendid swish inside her tight skirts, while her breasts bobbed softly against the fabric of her stretchy tops.
“Do you think he’ll like it?” she asked Tessa, her wicked make-up and tousled hair were straight from the pages of a pornographic magazine.
“I’m sure he will,” she answered evenly.
“He likes my ass. Squeezes it hard.”
“That should suit you, you’re a closet submissive, we both know that,” Tessa observed.
“Jealous, are we?”
“No.” It was only half a lie.
Martine looked down at her with sultry eyes. “You know, you’re very good being this coy. I’d be pissed as hell if it were me.”
“Well, I’m not you,” Tessa reminded her.
“I know,” she replied triumphantly. “And I’ll be on his arm tonight, I’ll be in his bed, and I’ll eat breakfast from his plate in the morning,” she said, waving her ass near Tessa’s face. “Have a nice night.” She swaggered out the door, leaving traces of her spicy perfume in the air.
The bitch returned in the morning with her face beaming, though she said little about her escapade. Tessa couldn’t be sure if that was because sex with Miles was indescribable, or disappointing. She decided that she would rather not know—especially since her body was screaming for some completion, besides what she gave herself with her own hand, and she didn’t like hearing about what she couldn’t have.
As Tessa climbed the long stairway toward Miles’ garret on the third floor, the only thing she could think about was how much she wanted to be spirited away into this lost world where nothing made sense, nothing was normal and nothing was logical, where everything was a function of pure carnal satisfaction. She liked thumbing her nose at rules that condemned her for her inborn desires. “Let them have their morality, and have no fun,” she would say to herself. While the straight world was busy being desperate and unsatisfied, she realizing herself in the bosom of utter, sweet decadence.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she was almost out of breath. The door to the garret ajar, she pushed it open, surprised to see that the scene inside had changed, in much the same way that a theatre set changes with a new act of a play.
There was a darker hue about the large room. The drapes no longer soft white, now deep cranberry-colored velvet. The bed on the platform, once draped in white, was now also covered by a darker shade of cloth, a bedspread with a muted paisley design. The day was overcast, so the light entering through the massive skylights was gloomy at best. And there was one distinct addition to the room: a strange apparatus hanging from the ceiling, a rope dangling from a heavy hook, with leather straps hanging down from that. She shivered know that this was for her, but her fear did not deter her excitement.
A quiet comforting beauty accompanied the new arrangement. She marveled at the changes, knowing the atmosphere suited Miles’ purposes, mystical and enigmatic like Miles himself. Her body responded with a gentle erotic rush, even though she knew that there was something ominous about this unexpected transformation.
Hearing a shuffling sound behind her, Tessa turned to see a strange man. Across the room opposite the bed, he was setting up a video camera and a bank of lights.
“Hello?” she said. She approached him cautiously.
“Tessa?” he guessed.
“Yes.”
“Hector,” he introduced himself, politely holding out his hand for a conventional handshake.
Tessa nodded, still puzzled by his presence. She gazed about the room. “It’s changed.”
“Like it?” he asked.
“Yes, I guess I do,” she said, letting eyes drift form corner to corner to corner. Returning her attention to the stranger and his video camera, she concluded only one thing. “You’re going to film me?”
“Yes he is,” Tessa heard Miles’ voice answer the question, coming from behind her in the direction of the bathroom. She turned to see him walking toward her, beaming broadly. He was wearing a black silk shirt and pair of black pants, his hair tied neatly in a pony tail, and the ring in his ear gleamed. Oh! How she’d missed him and this garret!
“Are you still going to sketch me?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“But this?” She gestured to the lights and the video camera.
“Hector’s going to record what we do… when I want him to,” he said while wrapping an arm around Tessa’s waist and walking her to the bed.
“But why?”
“Isn’t the thought exciting?”
A little snicker crossed her face. She wondered if he was joking. “Just to excite me?”
“It’ll be fun,” he assured her. “Then, I can watch the video and have you any time I want.”
“But you can have me anytime you want now.”
“I know, but I want other people to see you too—and there’s a decent market for porn with a genuine sadistic, masochistic flavor.”
“My God, I never thought of us that way.”
“The rest of world does, and that’s no shame, is it now?”
“No. I’m not ashamed at all, but you’ll sell the videos? To strangers?”
He shrugged. “Or give them away. Don’t worry, the demand is limited; you won’t be in theaters across the country—or even on the Internet. Though, I should think you’d make a perfect subject for a feature film, instead of some of the drivel that’s passed off as art these days.”
Tessa thought she could accept anything that Miles offered in their relationship, but she wondered at accepting this. Did he own her that completely? Did he have the right to display her body for all the world to see? It was a frightening thought.
“Get out of your mind and into your cunt, my dear,” he told her, whispering in her ear. His warm breath aroused her. “I can feel your body heat, and so can you. The very thought of making a X-rated movie is provoking all your immoral desires.” His hand pushed its way under her skirt and grabbed the flesh at her crotch.
She breathed deeply, realizing that he was right. “This is as obscene as anything I’ve ever done.”
“Good, then you’ll love it. Don’t try to deny what you feel because I know what it is. You can’t escape anything with me.”
That was true.
Miles sat down on the bed and brought her close to him. Raising her skirt, he pushed away her silky hair and began to finger her carefully. Pulling her to him, he licked the center of her sex, parting her labia to burrow deep within to her hidden clit. The hard bud protruded provocatively, now tender to touch. The way he held it open, even the air passing over it, made it sting. She jerked back, though he held her fast to his face with a firm hand planted on her sore behind. She quivered nervously, excitedly from head to toe, body seeking the satisfaction of a climax.
Unfortunately, the brief interlude was just a tease. Miles pulled down her skirt. “I have things to do,” he said. “Be good while Hector finishes getting ready.” He gave her a few patronizing pats on her bottom, then left the garret with Tessa standing beside the bed in stunned silence.
“Perhaps, you’d be more comfortable if you sat down,” Hector suggested, after the photographer noticed her frozen stance.
“Yes, I guess I would,” she replied, taking her seat on the velvety cloth that covered the bed. She felt the fabric against her legs, almost like satin would feel, inviting and sensuous. Sitting straight as a child might sit, her legs hung over the edge of the bed, not quite touching the floor. She put her hands in her lap politely, thinking that with all the lewd acts that she’d already performed in this place, she was feeling rather pristine, almost holy, like a virgin waiting to be violated by her husband for the first time. Then again, wasn’t every sex act a virgin experience? Wasn’t every escapade an awakening to something new?
“Relax, girl,” Hector said. He’d been staring at her while she waited in her virtuous repose.
Hector was the kind of man Tessa used to fuck—playful eyes, the sparkling smile,
the risqué Latin swagger in his hips. He’d be the kind to dance with her hips to hips, crotch to crotch, in lusty unison. She could get off just swaying against his protruding pouch of balls and cock. She’d feel his dick rising beneath his pants to meet her aroused mound, and they’d move on each other like lovers in bed.
Once, when she was in the cafe where she’d met Miles, a man like Hector, with the Hector kind of smile, unzipped his fly; and while the two were pressed together, surrounded by a crowd of frenzied dancers, he pulled her up enough to force his way inside her cunt. They’d fucked on the dance floor until she came, and he had shot his load inside her. Her mystery man left her after he was fully spent, without even telling her his name. But the memory of their scandalous liaison was one she’d never forget. The only thing that might have made it better, would have been a crowd that watched—so she imagined. As it was, only Martine noticed.
“Was he screwing you?” she’d asked her afterward.
“He came in me,” Tessa answered.
“You little whore!”
Tessa wasn’t sure why Martine thought it so obscene since it was something she would have done herself. Maybe she was jealous.
Hector would have screwed her in public being the kind of man who wouldn’t care who saw that pleasure was pleasure. Tessa read that in his heavy-lidded bedroom eyes.
Now, However, Miles was the only man who really turned her on. His essence was so much more formidable than any affable gentleman, and she needed his rough, wicked sense of deviance to bring out her own. The Hectors of the world were for the novices in sex, for women who like to be wooed. Miles would never woo her, not in any traditional way.
“So why do you do this?” she asked the man.
Hector smiled, eyes far away for just an instant, as if he were gazing on some pleasant memory. Looking back at her, “I suppose I do it because I don’t have the guts to do what Miles is going to do to you.”
“And what’s he going to do?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, I never am.”
“Have you videoed him with other women?”
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