Bound and Freed Boxed Set

by Nikki Sex

  John was rattling around in the kitchen, and she thought she could smell French toast. Kelly didn't recall nodding off – but that couldn’t have been more than an hour ago. The last thing she remembered was John behind her, cuddled in a spoon position, his inexhaustible ever erect cock thrusting leisurely between her legs. Leisurely! That had been a change. Man, the guy was some sort of sex Olympian, or a machine, ceaselessly pounding away like a pile driver. How did he do it? Was it just his age?

  It was nine a.m. and even after little or no sleep, Kelly felt wide awake and invigorated.

  Three paperback books and a Kindle lay on the bedside table. Kelly picked the books up, one at a time. "Man's Search for Meaning," "As a Man Thinkith," and "Screw the Roses, Send Me The Thorns." She giggled over that one, as it was obviously a manual concerning the use of pain in BDSM play.

  A large framed picture was also on the bedside table. It was of John when he was a child of six of seven years old, with an older woman – perhaps his mother or his Aunt. The woman was hugging him and he was laughing. He looked so cute.

  She stood up and took a peek outside. Overcast, but the rain had stopped. The call of nature had her moving to his bathroom, another room she had approved of. John had renovated this too, and it was now a luxurious and sensible place to attend to one's business. She freaked out when she saw her eyes. OMG! My mascara has run! How embarrassing.

  Kelly washed her face and brushed and her teeth. The bath looked inviting, the idea of soaking the poor sore muscles of her body sounded just about perfect. She considered starting to run the tub – but decided to wait to see if John wanted to have a bath or shower, because whatever they did, she knew they would do it together.

  Kelly found a thin, dark blue cotton bathrobe behind the door and put it on. When she stepped out John still wasn't back, so she decided to join him in the kitchen. While passing a desk, she saw her name, and came to an immediate stop.

  Her hand trembled when she reached out for the file. KELLY FLYNN it stated in big letters. A typed summary was inside, and pictures and other details further in. Kelly felt her entire body heat, and a strange roaring sound was in her ears. Feeling faint and weak at the knees, she sat down and began to read.

  "Information as requested concerning Kelly Flynn." The date was a month ago, about the time when she started going to The Basement – about the time John had first seen her. What had he said? You've been watching me, Kelly. Well, I've been watching you, too.

  Holy shit! The information he had gathered was certainly comprehensive. What schools she had attended, information on her HIV status and blood results, her parents, her siblings, even cut out articles of her when she played Little Orphan Annie when she was twelve years old.

  Kelly abruptly remembered John's comment in his car after they left the Basement. When she had said they should go to his house, he had replied, "Good. I live closer." At the time she had thought it an odd thing to say, but hadn't questioned it. Because of course he couldn't know where she lived. But now she understood.

  Kelly's hand went to her heart, and her throat tightened with unshed tears. John had known her address. He knew everything about her - while she, in fact, knew nothing about him. Instantly she felt stripped of all the pleasure she had experienced in the last twelve hours with John. It had all been a trick, a lie. But why? Why would he do something like this?

  Kelly couldn’t take any more - an urgent need to escape boiled through her veins and she put the file down. Logically she realized that this spike of panic was simply caused by adrenaline, making her want to run. Kelly worked to remain calm. Still, her mind immediately flew to worst case scenarios. Was Father John a complete nut job? Would he chain her up and keep her in some underground bunker? Or even kill her?

  Quickly she got dressed. Jesus, I have to get out of here, she thought. I have to get away.

  10. Unfeeling

  John came in, just as she was about to leave the bedroom. His eyebrows rose just slightly with surprise when he saw that she was dressed. As she tried to brush by him, he caught her, with his hands on her shoulders. "Kelly, what is it?" he asked.

  When she didn't reply he pushed her against a wall, and held her there, studying her face with his intent, unfathomable eyes. "Tell me, Kelly," he said. "What's happened?"

  Kelly just stared up at him, utterly motionless and still quite shocked. Dark eyes, strong jaw, thick dark hair and implacable expression. He was so beautiful. But it was all a mask, hiding the monster underneath.

  John Taylor, the guy she had been crushing on every day and night for the last month, was a fake. Now everything made so much sense. No wonder John knew everything about her, he hadn’t been in tune with her at all - he had hired someone to search her background. Who does something like that? Did he have any idea of how creepy that was? And all that time he had been pretending to understand his subs and read their minds!

  A sudden anger helped her get control of herself. What a mind-fuck this guy is, she thought, despising him. He's a cunning, manipulative sadist and a calculating sociopath. And he made me love him. There was no telling what John was capable of. As far as she knew, he could have even "arranged" to have the elevator break, to trap them both inside together.

  She recalled what she had been thinking earlier in the evening when she had imagined that John's praise and appreciation would crack even the most stubborn heart. And her instinctive self-protective reflection, Yes but how many woman has he told these things to? Be careful. This is how he gets people to love him.

  Well, she sure had fallen for it.

  And her friend Rosslyn's comments: "Father John just oozes the Triple 'F' factor, crushing and breaking the heart of every woman who comes near him. The man is beyond reach but utterly captivating. You know, the "Fatal Female Flaw" when ordinarily sensible women fall madly in love with an unattainable man who can't, or won't love them back?"

  My God, she thought, I've been so stupid! Such a trusting innocent.

  "Kelly, you will tell me right now," John said in his deceptively mild Dom voice.

  Kelly was pinned against the wall, held by John's overwhelming strength and will. His eyes held a challenge, the opportunity for her to say no to him, or to fight back. Steps which they equally knew her submissive nature would find difficult to take. Either way, they both understood who would win. John's strong authoritative tone had her unconsciously opening her mouth - he almost had her talking.

  No, she thought. He is so clever, and I'm so gullible. He'll explain everything away and I'm so stupid I'll believe it, because I want to believe it. God I'm an idiot. I have to get out of here. But how can I escape? But then she remembered. She still had a safe word.

  "Daisies," Kelly said.

  John Taylor stepped back and away from her in one quick stride, as if he had unwarily grasped a nettle, or a rattlesnake. His lips firmed and his face became even darker and more unreadable.

  "I'm going home," she said.

  John looked around his bedroom, and suddenly he seemed to comprehend. His cool gaze met hers, but his expression was empty. The connection they had created together had disappeared completely - just like that. Now when Kelly looked at him there was an insurmountable distance between them.

  "Will I call you a taxi or drive you to your car?" he asked in a soft, even voice.

  "I'll get a cab."

  John left her, striding back into the kitchen. Kelly only then realized that he was naked - she had been so shocked by seeing KELLY FLYNN on a file on his desk that she hadn't even noticed. As he walked away from her she stared at him. Even from behind he took her breath away, his sleek muscular back, narrow hips and tight ass. Just looking at him was mesmerizing.

  Shit, she thought. He is soooo bad for me. Dressed and ready to go, Kelly followed after him into the kitchen.

  John had his phone to his ear and was already calling, ordering the cab. "Yes. From Aloha to Hillsboro. Ten minutes? Thank you," he said and put his cell on the orange countertop.
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  John sat down at the small kitchen table and silently searched her face.

  "I'll wait outside," Kelly said, feeling uncomfortable.

  "You must do as you think best, Kelly," he said with an utterly impassive expression on his handsome, once well loved countenance. "You have found that file and drawn conclusions, without enough information to do so."

  "What am I supposed to think?" she snapped back, feeling righteously angry, betrayed, hurt and insulted. John had tricked her. And he had made her fall in love with him too. Bastard! All men are bastards, she thought. I am soooo going to be a lesbian. At least with a woman I'll know where I stand.

  "I am suggesting," John said mildly, "that there may be another reason that I would have such a file. A logical explanation."

  Kelly shook her head. "Reeally? She said drawing the word out. The sarcasm in her voice was laid on thick as cloud cover on the Portland International Airport after all flights had been cancelled and the airport closed. She was so angry at him she felt like she could spit, or claw his eyes out.

  Kelly's pink and while daisies sat up in their vase, bright and cheerful, mocking her. Their colors clashed obscenely with John's ugly orange counter-top.

  Kelly never wanted to see another daisy again.

  A horn honked outside. The cab was here.

  John made no move toward her, not to stop her, not even to open the door for her. As Kelly walked out onto the porch, John opened his mouth, and appeared as if he was going to say something. She held up her hand to stop him.

  "No," Kelly said. "Don't even try to explain. You don't say much John, but what you do say is always pretty smooth. I don't think there is an explanation except for an iniquitous one."

  John still hadn't moved - he was a cold rigid statue of heartless stone in his chair. The last she saw of him was the totally distant and unemotional look on his face.

  Unfeeling bastard! Kelly thought as she got into the cab and it drove off.

  And then she began to cry.

  END OF STRIPPED

  PUNISHED

  1. Roller Coaster

  "Discipline is very important, mon ami. Boundaries must be maintained for the security of both Dom and sub. These agreed upon limits become consistent and comforting parameters to work within. I do not use pain for punishment. I inflict only pleasure through pain, John. For me, such is associated with gratification and reward. If you genuinely wish to punish a sub, John, find something that truly hurts. Not torment to the body, non. Cause anguish to the mind, the heart and soul."

  --- André Chevalier, conversation with John Taylor

  ~~~

  Kelly Flynn was on an emotional roller coaster ride from hell.

  Saturday night she had hit a freakish all time low when she had been caught in a broken elevator. With a phobia of being trapped in small, dark places Kelly had totally flipped out when the lights went out and the elevator screeched and jerked to a halt.

  Luckily the Dom she had been crushing on all month, John Taylor, was there to save her. One thing led to another and Kelly ended up spending the night with John and having the BEST SEX of her entire life. Not to mention falling head over heels in love with the guy.

  Who unfortunately it turned out, was a complete nut job wacko bastard.

  So her twenty-four hour amusement park ride had finally come to an end. After experiencing huge emotional downs and wildly euphoric ups, her roller coaster slid to a stop and cheerfully let her off, depositing her safely and miserably on the ground. Now she was left feeling an unfamiliar all time low.

  Kelly drove her slate blue Infiniti G coupe along the curving tree lined roads on the way to her parent's home. She had been given her car on her twenty-second birthday, and now, two years later, she still loved it. It was Sunday and the family tradition was to get together for dinner Sunday evening.

  After mind-blowing sex throughout all of Saturday night and Sunday morning, Kelly had a multitude of odd marks and hickies that would be a dead giveaway to even an unobservant parent, not to mention her protective older brother. Consequently Kelly wore jeans and a turtleneck sweater. She was so damn deliciously sore from her sexual marathon that even walking in a normal manner was difficult.

  Driving into the circular driveway, she gazed up at the elegant two story Classic Revival mansion. The family home was huge, white with four pillars that went right to the second story, and pretty, contrasting dark shutters on the upper story windows. It had six bedrooms and six bathrooms, a pool, family room, home theater, a wine cellar and every mod con. She parked her car and went inside.

  "You're late," Kelly's mother said with a disapproving glare as Kelly walked inside. Kelly recoiled slightly in surprise. Intercepting her at the front door was new. Usually her intrusive parent waited until she had gotten further into the house before she began any verbal assault.

  "And why are you wearing that God awful sweater?" her mother added. "One would think that you could find something better to be dressed in than that. Can't you afford nicer clothes on the salary from your newest new job? And what have you done with your hair?"

  "Sorry, Mom," Kelly said.

  Kelly's mother, Marguerite, was a marvel. In less than thirty seconds she had managed to remind Kelly that she had gone though a succession of jobs like a 4th of July hot dog eating contest winner, went through hot dogs. She had also criticized her clothes and her hair. Once her mother brought up Kelly's lack of a rich fiancé, then she would have met most of her main targets – and Kelly had just come through the front door and was still standing on the white marble floor of the family entry. It was pretty good going, even for her mother who was a master at pointing out both real and imagined flaws.

  Kelly's mother had shoulder length black hair, and dark blue eyes. Kelly's orange hair and freckled complexion had come from her father, which was a real pity. Mother was wearing an elegant off-white silk blouse and tan skirt that was tailored to follow the line of her body. Around her neck was a single string of pearls. As always with her mother, nothing appeared out of place. Mom turned fifty, almost three months ago, although she still looked to be in her early forties.

  So, Kelly thought. It being the weekend, Mom is dressing down today. Kelly looked at her gorgeous fashionable mother and thought for the thousandth time, Why didn’t I get her black hair?

  "We were just going to sit down," her mother added.

  Kelly followed her into the dining room, and sure enough, everyone was already seated, except her dad who was fixing himself a drink. "Hey, honey," he called out, shooting her his customary genial grin. "You look beautiful."

  "Hey, Daddy," Kelly replied, walking up to him with a smile and giving him hug and a peck on the cheek. "You always say that, but I love you for it."

  They all sat down and after saying grace, everyone talked together with a number of conversations going on at once. Kelly sat next to Richard her older brother and the family member she was closest to because she could discuss almost everything with him. Also at the table was Maria; nineteen, Katrina; sixteen and Jamie, who Kelly had suspected had been an unplanned surprise, and who was now eleven years old.

  "Where's Heather tonight?" Kelly asked. Heather was Richard's long term girlfriend.

  Richard leaned his long body back against his chair, chewing a mouthful of his turkey dinner. He had black hair and blue eyes like their mother. Why did he get the black hair? She wondered. So unfair. Men looked good in any color. He was a handsome, confident man at twenty-six, and Kelly loved him to bits. Richard had just finished a civil engineering degree and so far was enjoying his choice of profession. Swallowing, he said, "She's cramming for exams. Honestly the woman is such a stress-head over some things. I told her not to come tonight."

  Kelly laughed. "Were you thinking of her when you suggested that, or of yourself?"

  Richard gave Kelly a sheepish grin. "Myself I think, but it will be good for her to escape tonight, too."

  They both chuckled, although Kelly's amusement was f
orced as she was utterly distracted. The thought of Richard's girlfriend reminded her that she had almost, kind of had a boyfriend… just last night. Images of John Taylor naked, his beautiful eyes heavy lidded, dark with lust and thrusting above her competed with her vision of him the last time she saw him, cold and distant as she walked out his door.

  Richard looked along the table, and when he was sure no one was paying any attention, he stared at Kelly intently and then raised an eyebrow. "So what is wrong with you?"

  "Man, I don’t know where to start," Kelly said with a frown. "But it would be good to talk later. I am seriously screwed up at the moment."

  It was a family tradition to go to church on Sunday morning, and have Sunday evening dinners together. Kelly had been escaping the church thing for some years, except for Christmas and Easter of course. After dinner the entire family would play games, and just hang out. It was a non-negotiable mandatory weekly get together, and honestly except for her mother mostly being a pain in the ass, Kelly thought it was great. A lot of her friends had parents who were divorced, or had families that didn’t relate at all. Kelly considered herself extremely lucky.

  Kelly spent a good night with much laughter playing Pictionary. Who wouldn't laugh when playing Pictionary with her crazy Dad? Dad, a hobby watercolor artist, kept trying to make a work of art with his one minute turn. It was hysterical just watching.

  Afterwards she and Richard had a tussle with Jamie, wrestling him to the floor and letting him win from time to time. Katrina and Maria joined in. Their mom then nagged everyone individually, firing a few shots at each child. But her focus, as customary, was on Kelly.

  Kelly got herself together, prepared for a verbal battering, and sighed. This was the only painful part of these nights. As usual her mother fired constant questions such as, "Are you going out with anyone?" (Translation: Are you dating anyone with position and money?) or, "How long are you going to do that silly job you have? It's a dead end position and how will you meet anyone?" (Translation: You will never meet a man with the right kind of background and financial security there).