“Half dozen, maybe.”
“So, I’m just another in a long string?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Why not? Am I special?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. You seem to have a lot of the qualities he’s looking for.”
“And those are?”
“Miles Bryce wants the perfect submissive. He’s had a lot of women, but few match up to his demands.”
“And you think I will?”
“That’s up to you,” Hector answered carefully. He would never speak for Miles, especially regarding his women.
“So, what was his last woman like?”
Hector looked at her for a moment, wondering if he should even be having this conversation. She was a charming diversion. And since Miles was gone, and he had no idea when he’d return, he had to pass the time some way. Fucking her had crossed his mind, but he never would. Not without Miles’ okay. He couldn’t risk pissing the boss off and losing the job. Miles paid too well for him to be that foolish.
Tessa Cotille had a perfect body for a good screw, matchless curves, and a swell to her hips that made him want to grasp them in his hands and rove about their smoothness. He’d heard her nipples were pierced—a sight he couldn’t wait to see.
He’d have her naked before Miles returned—certainly that wouldn’t upset him. In fact, Miles would probably enjoy the picture of his submissive being photographed.
“The last woman he screwed for the camera?” Hector remembered aloud. “Meg.”
“Meg.” Tessa repeated the name to herself. “What was she like?”
Hector laughed. “A prudish bitch—although she looked a little like you. Miles likes blondes. This one had the perfect shape, enormous tits, not better than yours, just bigger, and full lips. She probably shot them up with collagen.”
“Were her breasts real?”
“Yeah, they were real, real big.” Obviously the object of Hector’s admiration.
“What else? You said she was a prude?”
“First class bitch. She liked looking good, but she was as cold as a whore when the money’s run out.” He chuckled to himself.
“What happened to her?”
“I took about an hour’s worth of video, and Miles suddenly looks at me, and shrugs. He was whipping her with a mild thong, and she was oooooing and ahhhhing—to a point. Then she’d scream bloody murder, whenever he tried to make it hurt. Damn what a bitch! She wasn’t submissive; she was like a Greek warrior, coming from the Trojan horse, ready to cut his throat. When she left, Miles was practically rolling on the floor, laughing like a hyena.”
“A Greek, coming from the Trojan horse? Miles so vulnerable that he’d succumb to a woman like that? I can’t imagine him laughing like a hyena.”
“He hardly succumbed to her… But hey, I’m sure I’ve said too much. Take off your top.”
The sudden demand came as a shock.
“I said, take it off, bitch,” he repeated when she didn’t respond.
She was sorry she hadn’t complied right away, she really wanted to please him, almost as much as she wanted to please Miles. Reaching for the bottom of her black t-shirt, she pulled it over her head, at the same time pretending she was an erotic dancer doing special favors on command.
With the shirt off, her gold studs winked at him—which only shamed the man for being so familiar with Miles’ slut. He thought she was different than the others—except perhaps for Penny. That broad would would have been perfect, excerpt she bolted in the middle of a damn good scene. This Tessa just might pass Miles’ thousand tests, and Hector hoped she would. She would make them both a good bit of cash with the movies, not to mention the way she likely screw his cock. Hector was glad, he wasn’t as picky with his love life as Miles—he could never be so patient.
Behind the video camera, Hector focused on the gold studs as Tessa showed off her voluptuous torso like a professional. She was a natural in front of a lens, not at all shy, and not as reluctant as her earlier conversation with Miles might have indicated. Perhaps she just had to get used to the idea. After several minutes of good footage, Hector was ready for more. “Remove your skirt,” he ordered.
Tessa stood up, looked straight into the camera, and tugged at her mini-skirt, pushing it from her hips until it dropped to the floor at her feet and she was naked from the waist down.
“Beautiful.” The camera whirred again while Tessa played the exotic dancer, moving her hips in a quite tango and forming a seductive pout with her lips. “That’s it… let me see your rear…” The camera rolled as he watched through the viewer and his crotch began to tingle. Tessa looked over her shoulder, pouty, like the Playboy model’s layout and Hector’s dick turned stiff inside his jeans.
He liked the stripes on her butt; though he almost winced himself, knowing what it took to put them there. He wasn’t fond of whips, and could never wield one thing the way Miles did. That aspect of his friend fascinated him. In fact, it was why he liked to work with Miles, recording the masterful way the man tamed this compliant kind of woman into an obedient slave. He watched Miles challenge a woman like Tessa, who was at the edge of compliance and defiance at the same time. The dominant man feasted on that kind of confrontation, he and his submissive like two beasts facing off in the wild. It took a very special kind of women to be his lover.
Hector sensed that Tessa was that kind of woman, little jewel that she was. She’d be in pain, wrenching pain before the night was over, and loving it.
Hector filmed her for some minutes until his own lust couldn’t take more. He’d either have to ignore the “hands off” arrangement with Miles and fuck her, or quit the video and take a break. Knowing he’d get laid before the night was over, he stopped filming, waiting for the main event.
“Let’s take a break,” he said.
This slut was disappointed, but obedient to his order, as she sat down on the bed. Again she sat demurely, hands in her lap, looking oddly self-conscious being naked and her clothes strewn across the floor.
“I’m going for a Coke, you want something?” Hector asked.
“No. Nothing,” she replied, as she watched Hector move to the kitchen.
When the photographer didn’t come back right away, Tessa fell back on the bed and pulled a sheet over her bare limbs. Minutes later she was dozing, mind swirling in the middle of her rapacious sexual desires.
“Tessa!” She heard her name from Miles’ lips, his voice was sharp, piercing through her sleepy consciousness. “Tessa!” Hearing it again, she finally pulled up on one elbow, a languid sultry look in her eye as she gazed at her lover looking down on her impassively.
“Sleeping?” he inquired.
“Yes, sir, it’s been a long week.”
“That’s good, it’s likely to be a long night,” Miles said, as he sat next to her looking rather amiable. “Hector tells me you’re quite a tease for the camera.”
“Oh, we were just having some fun,” she explained.
“And you wanted him to fuck you?” Miles asked.
“I suppose so,” she answered. She hadn’t thought about it, even though the sexual heat between she and Hector had been building steadily as he filmed her. She’d only planned to make love to Miles, though she wouldn’t mind if she had them both.
Pulling the blanket from her body, Miles saw her nude, the wet juices of her cunt beginning to form on the inside of her legs. He reached between them and began to stroke her thighs, a finger quickly penetrated her vagina, pounding briskly in the wet opening. She leaned back against a pillow and let him have her. With the languid warmth in the room, sleep still clouding her mind, and Miles’ earnest probing of her cunt, she was ripe for a quick climax.
Yet, before she came, he ripped his hand away, rose from the bed, and walked to the back of the room.
Tessa gazed around adjusting her eyes to the light. It seemed the room was even smaller now that the sun had set and there was nothing but starlight coming in through the skylight
. While she’d slept, there had been more changes—Oriental screens had been placed around the platform making her bed even more like a stage.
When Miles returned he had a key in hand, and was reaching overhead to where the strange apparatus was hanging. Tessa watched him unlock the wrist cuffs, and felt a wild sweep of desire as he grasped her wrists inside the cuffs and locked them so that only his key would free her. She was more a captive, in a literal sense, than she’d ever been, and the effect was frightening—even as her cunt gave away her desire, leaking its fragrant sexual nectar. Sitting tall inside her bonds, her breasts protruded from her chest like ornaments, and her nipples stood on end as the chilly air turned them into proud knots.
Hearing a humming sound from somewhere in the room, she fought to recognize it, until it dawned on her that Hector was filming her again. She turned toward him, seeing the lens focused directly on her breasts, the nipples, and the gold studs.
“Think of the eyes that will be watching you,” Miles whispered in her ear. “How much my friends will enjoy the beauty of your submission.” He turned to Hector. “What do you think? Another set of studs to match these. Her nipples are easily large enough to handle another piercing.”
“I prefer rings myself,” Hector replied.
“Rings, of course,” Miles agreed. “Two sets perhaps, different sizes, more to pull on.” He tweaked the studded nipples with his fingers, and watched her pained response…detecting the sensuous pleasure behind the pain.
Backing off to the side, he admired her torso with her arms stretched overhead. He could gaze at her for hours, think of the ways he’d mark her, of the trinkets that would decorate her body.
Grabbing a pulley attached to her bonds, he tugged at the ropes so that she was forced to rise from the bed. Though he allowed her time to move, she had to scamper quickly to the edge where her feet landed on the floor and she was pulled up tighter still, her hands and arms high above her head. She was stretched until she was standing on tiptoe. The camera recorded it all, the way she wanted to tug against the ropes, the way she was stretched taut, the way Miles didn’t stop pulling until she was exactly as he wanted her.
Seeing Tessa restrained excited both men, which was duly registered in their crotches. They gazed at her for several minutes, seeing the look of frightened anguish cross her face as she wondered what would happen next.
“Spread your legs,” Miles ordered her. He tied off the ropes, to secure her confinement, while Tessa struggled obey his order.
“I can’t!” she finally pleaded, trying to wriggle away.
“You’re not trying, my dear,” Miles countered calmly.
Her struggling made it worse; relaxing, she found her attempt less painful, as if the leather and ropes stretched to accommodate her need.
“I’d suggest you get used to this pose. I like it so much, I suspect I’ll keep you here as long as is physically possible.”
“Perhaps the spreader bar Miles?” Hector interjected.
“Maybe, let’s see how well she holds up. She’s a little more compliant now; if she behaves, I won’t need to use it.”
For some minutes the camera whirred, and Miles’ sketch pen flew across a sheet of paper at his easel. Both men captured Tessa’s taut and yielding form, her head bowed to one side in a look of perfect resignation.
Of course she was resigned; Tessa had no choice but to relent. And after some moments, both body and mind succumbed, a full flood of warmth flowed through her. Her cunt moistened readily, and she knew, after Miles was finished with his sketching, that she’d feel some sort of lash against her skin. She could easily wait; getting used to this level of submission took some time. She was thankful he was so absorbed with his work, since it gave her time to adjust.
It didn’t take long for Miles to finish the black and white sketch. “There,” he announced as he laid on the last stroke. His voice shook her back to reality, and she opened her eyes to see a lovely picture of herself. The lines of her body were drawn with bold, angular motions, the pout on her lips was seductive. Did she look that aroused? Or was this Miles’ interpretation of her.
Miles moved the easel to a corner out of the way. And after putting away his pencils and wiping his hands, he proceeded to the trunk, standing there for some seconds perusing the chest full of wicked implements. Her chose two, as he had before, one to warm her and one to cut. Although this time, both implements were longer than the ones he’d previously used, as he intended to stand some distance away when he punished her—a dramatic distance particularly suited for the videotape.
Approaching his submissive, a savage scowl crossed his face, as though he was angry with her. Was he punishing her as he had in the museum days before? It was the same nasty scowl, the same wrinkled brow, and the same gleam in his dark eyes.
“So soft and delicate,” he said, as his hand tenderly touched her cunt. He massaged her there, lovingly. “So juicy.” He smeared the wetness over the mound, then felt her from front to back, parting her labia, and moving a finger along the moistened cleft. “You really love this don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered so softly that he couldn’t hear.
“What was that you said?”
“Yes, I love it,” she answered respectfully.
She gasped as he fingered her, each small touch sending more spasms through her wanting body. It would take little to make her cum; but Tessa was not so naive to think that he’d allow an orgasm so soon.
Instead, her artful Dominant backed away and picked up his weapon, one with three-foot long thongs dangling from the large handle. The other implement dropped out of sight before Tessa could see it clearly.
The sounds, the whooshing noise of the leather against air filled Tessa’s ears, and her body bucked as the first blow hit just below her waist with the thongs reaching across her entire abdomen to the top of her thigh.
“Ah!” she gasped, body tingling pleasurably.
The next blow struck higher, across her breasts.
“Oh, oh, oooo,” she whimpered softly. This was more intense.
The flogging continued, from her breasts to her thighs, then back to her breasts. Lashes covered her everywhere, the thongs reaching around to bite against her tender sides, then hitting her breasts and cunt straight on.
“Oh, please!” she finally gasped, as the thongs lapped her body like waves lapping on the shore. “Oh, oh my . . . ah yes.” It was seduction, and pleasure, and a biting sting, and then just the most perfect rush of sensation. How sweet the pain!
The camera whirred unemotionally at its measured distance, capturing every blow with unfailing accuracy. Neither Tessa nor Miles paid any attention, as both were too enthralled with each other—Tessa with the whip that struck her, Miles with the ecstatic rush that ripped through him as he laid on the sensuous punishment.
Once he had her entire front side blushing pink, he turned her around, and began in earnest on her back.
“Oooooo ouch, oh my,” her sultry voice answered each stroke. Each blow was a little piece of lighting against her skin, just a hairsbreadth from painful. The flogging warmed her with a fire that spread beyond the blows, taking her to a near orgasmic bliss. But Miles was not about to leave her without a more remarkable reminder of her submission. He’d thought about it for days, the way he’d finally mark her abdomen and her thighs. He’d imagined it, especially when he would gaze at the sketches he’d drawn of her. He could clearly see the marks in his mind.
“Hummmmm, yesss,” she purred like a cat, her eyes glimmering when he looked at her. There were demons shining there and it was time to turn her pleasure into agony.
He laid down the whip and let her wriggling body rest, then turned her around so that he could inspect her chest and belly. Already, the pink blush had faded away, and there was little trace of the whip’s blows. He stroked her as she jerked. “Oh god, Sir, I could come,” she gasped.
“I’m sure you could, but not yet.” He caressed her thighs. �
�You won’t even have to look in the mirror to see your stripes; when I’m finished, all you’ll need to do is look at your belly to see the impressions.”
She looked down at her creamy skin, wondering what it would look like to wear marks of his dominance in such an obvious place. Would it thrill her the way the ones on her bottom had?
“These.” He was stroking her breasts, admiring the soft round orbs and the studs at her nipples. “Perhaps I’ll mark these too. Then when I’m finished, we’ll find some appropriate way to show them off.”
She was simmering on the edge of fear, but not so frightened that she didn’t want him to proceed.
The second implement would be nothing like the teasing thongs that had seduced her. This crop was three feet long, made of pliable leather; the shaft was firm, though it would bend when it was unleashed. The last few inches were quite soft, but only in looks. Two separate thin thongs dangled off the end and were tied together at the tip. With the proper snap of the crop, they would land with a ferocious cut against her skin.
“You’ll be happy to know, Tessa . . . this building is empty, except for the three of us. Your screams will be heard by no one but Hector and me.” He offered this chilling piece of trivia with a sly smirk on his smiling face.
Like the bamboo days before, and the buggy whip before that, Miles’ instrument split the air with an unnerving hiss, and it landed against Tessa’s belly at the top of her pubic hair.
“Gawd no!” she screamed, when the pain from the savage cut registered in her head. She went limp against her bonds; and the next cut landed at the top of her thigh, the tassel snapping nastily against her outer labia.
“GOD NO!” she shrieked again and she tried to turn away.
“Stand up, Tessa! Turn to me!” Miles ordered.
She was so frightened of the next cut that she could hardly move, managing to turn back only just the slightest bit.
“Look at me!” Miles shot out.
Trembling, she pulled herself up and looked her Dom in the eye.
Miles turned to Hector. “You see the look on her face?” he asked the photographer.
“Terror,” Hector said. He’d seen it before, in other submissive targets of Miles’ dominance, but never was it so breathtaking to behold. Despite the pain, there was a fire in her eyes and she matched Miles’ fierce persona. This, both men admired.
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