by Vonna Harper
“That was a basic exercise in the various forms submission can take,” he said.
“I get it. Believe me, I do.”
“As I understand it, often there’s no need for physical bondage in a BDSM relationship. One person dominates while the other willingly obeys. That’s the basic structure of their interaction with each other. Do you think you can do that? Put someone else’s will before your own?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to completely trust that person.”
“And you don’t yet trust me. I understand.”
“I want to.” Somehow it was easier to speak when she couldn’t see his expression. Darkness allowed her to concentrate on herself, especially her on-edge body. Maybe he was laughing at how her undergarment looked roping her, not that she could do anything about it.
“There’s no way we can get to that place today.” His hand slid off her head, brushed her shoulder, disappeared. “Trust is a process. When I hire someone, for the most part I sit back so hopefully they can prove themselves. I want that new hire to be a good fit for the company but I’m not going to know whether he or she is for a while.”
“It’s the same way with my business. I realize I’ll have to demonstrate to a client that I know what I’m talking about.” She spoke in the direction his voice was coming from. When would he touch her again?
“If I’d been an attacker instead of the man Unchained paired you with, what would you have done?”
“Kick you,” she said without thinking. “Where it hurts a man the most. I might also strike your throat with the side of my hand or drive my fingers into your eyes.”
When he didn’t immediately respond, she wondered if he was thinking no way she could have gotten the upper hand on him. If she got the chance, she’d show him how wrong he was.
Maybe.
“So you’re here because you have clients who maintain they get off on being subservient and you’re trying to wrap your mind around that mindset.”
“In essence, yes. What’s your reason?”
“I’m under the impression I made that clear.”
He hadn’t clarified anything as far as she was concerned. However, she was hardly in a position to argue the point. The longer she stood in the dark waiting for him to do whatever he intended to do, the deeper she slid into captivity. It wasn’t a bad place to be. Granted, after a while, her arms would ache from being behind her and her panties dug into her hips, but the blindfold had become a blanket, a comforting cocoon to hide behind.
“I keep thinking this isn’t happening,” he said, “but it is. A sexy and beautiful woman is standing before me. She belongs to me. Is dependent on me.”
She hadn’t thought about dependency before, but he was right. In many respects her life was in his hands.
Something changed in the air followed by the feel of his hands on her hips. His manipulating her breasts had already made a statement about intimacy so why was this hard to accept? She had to work at not demanding he leave her alone.
He stroked her panties’ elastic and the skin both above and below it. The light touch did nothing to settle her nerves. Quite the opposite, it lifted her beyond herself and into a new space. “Your flesh is so soft. If I’d actually abducted you, I’d think of your body as your unwitting gift to me. In a life defined by danger and war, you’d be my sanctuary.”
His voice had taken on a seductive quality that, combined with his gentle manipulations, took her even deeper into a place where she floated more than stood.
“Even if your father comes up with the ransom I demanded, I wouldn’t let you go. You’d remain with me, on your knees before me.”
A tremor had her reaching for enough air to fill her lungs. “Would—I always be blindfolded?”
When he exhaled, she felt the moist heat on the top of her head. Obviously he was leaning over her. More importantly, his fingers were taking bites out of her senses and pushing her deep into something she couldn’t define.
“After a while, it would no longer be necessary.” He hooked his thumbs under her panties and slowly, so slowly guided them all the way over her buttocks and onto her thighs. He kept the still-confining fabric there while his nails laid down lines of sensation on her flesh there. “I’d have trained you. You’d no longer exist separate from me.”
Hadn’t he already said something like that? Even if the words were old, her reaction catapulted her into yet a new space. In this imaginary place, she was on her knees before the man she called Master. She’d willingly placed her forehead on the bearskin rug with her legs spread so her sex was available to the man her world revolved around. Not long ago he’d ordered her to come naked except for her collar to the campfire where he and the other returning warriors were eating and drinking. Other clan members had gathered around the warriors so they could hear their tales of battles fought, won and sometimes lost.
Only Master acknowledged her existence but in a way just the two of them understood. He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d placed herself before him. His weary feet rested on her backside. As words of exploits and danger swirled around her, she fought her own battle. Soon, please soon, he’d grab her hair and drag her on her hands and knees to his tent. She’d undress him and if he’d been wounded, she’d bathe his cuts with water she’d carried from the nearby creek and heated. He still wouldn’t speak to her beyond the occasional clipped order.
She’d wait for him to signal he was ready to have his sexual needs fulfilled. Wait with wet heat dribbling down her inner thighs and the collar proclaiming her submission against her uneven pulse.
“Where did you go?” Rico asked.
Brought back by the unexpected question, she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Her panties still hobbled her, one large male hand now engulfed her right breast, and masculine male fingers spread over her belly and mons.
“I—don’t know. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
His chuckle sounded disembodied, just like she felt. Not an inch of her wasn’t aware of him so how had he accomplished what he had without her being aware?
“Even though I’m having a hard time believing you weren’t paying attention,” he said, “I’ll let it slide for now. I’m ready for you to step out of your panties. Because your mobility is compromised, I’ll guide you. Not let you fall.”
By holding on to her breast and belly? Despite her unanswered question, she cautiously lifted her right leg. The fabric hung up on her toes. Off balance, she started to tip to the left. He grasped her around the waist and lifted her off her feet. She kicked free of the nylon, then hung in his grasp. He was so damn big, impossibly strong.
All-knowing.
At length he set her back down but his hands remained on her waist. Her breast and belly remembered his imprint there.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“Not letting me fall.”
Chuckling, he began working his hands around to her belly. Dizzy with anticipation, she widened her stance and mentally traced his progress. Her nipples ached while a river of heat ran from her throat to her pussy.
“When I first captured you, I kept you blindfolded. You had to depend on me for everything.” A thumb settled over her navel. “I seldom spoke to you and kept you isolated. Most of what I told you was designed to immerse you in your new role as my sex slave.”
“Orders? Rules?”
“Correct.” When he pushed his thumb into her navel, the contact spoke of a new layer of bondage. Despite that, she made no attempt to back away. “You learned to immediately respond to my every command.”
Her throat threatened to close up. “What happened if I didn’t?”
Chapter Six
Rico’s thumb remained in place. The rest of his hand was against her belly. His other hand slid slowly over her hip and around to her buttocks. Trapped in darkness and sensation, she struggled not to tremble.
Failed.
“I punished you.”
&nb
sp; Tell me the ways. Let me experience. “Was, ah was I a quick study? I learned my lessons?”
“Sometimes.” He turned her so she was at right angles to him. Staring into the darkness, she tried to picture what he looked like and what his eyes were saying. “Other times it took multiple lessons for you to accomplish a simple task. I suspected you were deliberately trying my patience.”
His hands had become bookends with her body trapped between them. One hand easily spanned her belly and reached her hipbones while the other covered her buttocks like a blanket.
“Why…” She shook her head and tried again. “Why would I do that?”
“Think about it. I’m sure you can figure it out.”
Even with his unseen presence tearing her apart, she got his point. “I wanted your attention. You’d made yourself my everything. I needed you.”
“Yes you did. Eventually you’d bring the whip to me without my ordering you to get it. I’d—”
“Whip?”
He again turned her, a quarter circle this time that put him behind her. Muscled arms wrapped around her breasts and waist, and he pulled her against him. Her nearly useless fingers went in search of his cock but found his slacks’ waistband. If only she could tear the garment off him!
“Is that too much? Even though we’re talking about a fictional scenario, the idea of physical punishment takes you out of your comfort zone?”
“No. I don’t think so.” She was tempted to rest the back of her head against his chest, but she might not be able to concentrate if she did. “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
“How about we try this?” His chest rumbled against her. “You tell me what goes on between the warlord and his hostage. Build on what we started.”
“Is that what you are?” She was stalling. “I thought you were a raider.”
“How about a garden-variety savage? That work for you?”
Grateful because he wasn’t calling her on her hesitancy, she shrugged. The gesture increased her awareness of him.
“It’ll do for now.” Had she struck a light enough tone? Maybe she hadn’t been able to pull off the attempt at deception. “All right, I’m staying in your tent. It’s pretty big, twice the size of this room.”
“Good to hear I’m a successful savage. How do I keep you in there? There are times when I have to take off to rape and pillage.”
“You leave food for me to eat, lots of fresh fruit and vegetables.”
One arm remained over her breasts locking her against him. The other was on the move, slowly heading south. She again extended her fingers, puffing out a breath when she touched his thighs.
“That’s because I don’t want you getting scurvy.”
Laughing didn’t relax her. Rather it increased her connection with him. They were building on what they had in common, and the more time they spent together, the deeper their relationship would become.
“You placed a metal collar around my neck shortly after capturing me.” The blindfold helped in countless ways, protecting her from having to face him and giving her imagination wider range. All she had to do was somehow not let her thoughts lock on where his hand was heading. “You also have a long chain which you attached to the ring on the collar. The chain connected to the tent pole and kept me—”
“Within my control at all times.”
His fingers eased between her legs. One digit slid over her sex lips while his palm pressed against her mons igniting the nerves there. She found herself on her toes with her knees bent outward. Her too-heavy head flopped back where his chest supported it.
“I want you to concentrate. Tell me every detail of what happens when I step inside the tent.”
You take me. Hard and hungry.
“I’m not sure,” she barely got out as the finger being warmed by her labia twitched. She couldn’t find her edges, just this hungry core.
“Yes, you are. You live for the times when you see me.”
He was right. As a naked and chained captive, her existence would revolve around the man responsible for her condition.
“I’m grateful that you’re still alive so I won’t starve or be given to a filthy savage. I’m also afraid to let you know how important you’ve become to me because I know you’ll use it to your advantage.”
“How do you keep your gratitude and eagerness from me?”
Eager! Oh yes. They were talking about two people who existed only in their imaginations. That was what she needed think about, not endless erotic possibilities and the pounding need between her thighs.
Still lacking the strength to lift her head off his shoulder, she sank down a little around his invading hand. Rico was fully dressed and ready to take his place in the world. In contrast, she’d remain naked, blinded and cuffed until he chose to end her captivity.
“I’ve been sleeping curled up near the pole with the chain between my breasts,” she heard herself say. “I awaken at the sound of your voice outside and hurry to my feet, but you don’t immediately come in and I wait for you, shaking.”
The finger her juices had dampened slipped into her sex. Began to own her. “With fear or anticipation?”
I can’t do this! How do you expect me to concentrate when you’re— “A little of each. I never know whether you’ve been successful. A few times a raid fails and you bring your anger into the tent.”
“I punish you for something you had nothing to do with?”
“No,” she quickly reassured him. Then her thoughts deserted her, leaving her unable to resist the need to spread her legs even more. Her ragged breath burned her nostrils. “You—don’t do that but neither are you kind. You unhook me from the pole, leaving the chain on. It’s long enough that you can wrap it around me. You lock it in place under my breasts with my arms trapped at my sides.”
“Because I want access to what’s important to me. Your legs are free, right?”
Think. Do your part to build on this heady fantasy. “You had the clan silversmith fashion ankle cuffs. They’re welded in place, but I’m not hobbled.”
“But I can restrain you that way if I want to.”
Thankfully the finger inside her wasn’t moving. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to speak. Sweat had bloomed between his forearm and her breasts so she felt as if that part of their bodies was glued together. Did he ever grow tired?
Would she ever remember what her own strength felt like?
“Yes, you can. Sometimes you prevent me from walking even when there’s no reason to.”
“There’s a reason. I want you to always be aware of your place in my world.”
Go with the flow. Lose yourself in fiction and frenzy. “I’d never forget.”
“Because I’m cruel?”
She recoiled from the word. An instant later the hand claiming her sex brought her back to reality. They were exploring something foreign to both of them, moving forward one step at a time while defining the boundaries.
Even more important, he was pleasuring her.
“Not cruel. Masterful. You’re determined to educate me and I’m eager to be worthy of your attention.”
“So I’ll go on feeding you strawberries and asparagus? I could throw in some exotic nuts if you’d like.”
Someday she’d like to get him in a situation where his sense of humor had free rein. Between them they might have their audience in stitches.
“Not because I love my diet. My master is the most exciting sex partner I’ve ever had.”
“Does your master see you as an equal when you’re having sex?”
Darn him, her imagination hadn’t taken her that far. More to the point, as a result of how he was manhandling her, she was ill-equipped to keep any kind of a conversation going. Her fingers twitched repeatedly while her toes dug into the carpet. Her legs and back were starting to protest while the rest of her wanted nothing but him near her.
In her.
“No. I’m his hostage, his sex slave in training. He stands tall and strong while I
kneel at his feet.”
“He must have a hell of a cock.”
“He does,” she shot back. Her channel muscles tightened around his finger. “But it’s more than that.”
The arm flattening her breasts against her chest wall rocked back and forth further stimulating her there. At the same time, he tightened his hold on her mons, fully trapping it behind his large hand. Once again she lost contact with the edges of her body. Everything centered around her sex and breasts.
“More what?” he pressed. “I need more details before I’m convinced he’s as amazing as you’re trying to make me believe he is.”
Suddenly feeling heavy, she slumped in his grasp. “Not fair,” she managed. “You have to know how hard it is for me to—”
“Concentrate on talking?” He chuckled. “Maybe you’d prefer we wrap this up and go have some tea.”
“Tea? A stiff drink is more like it.” She emphatically shook her head followed by a vow not to let him win this round. Maybe. “All right. Part of how I react is because he’s supremely self-confident. He expects me to respond and I do. At first—in the beginning he tied me spread-eagle to his bed so he could handle every part of me. Day and night he was there, sometimes caressing me, sometimes lightly slapping me until I begged him to stop. But I didn’t want…”
“How long did that go on?”
Don’t talk. Just handle me. “I don’t know. Time ran together. He fed me, got me up so I could go to the bathroom, even took me to the river where he bathed me.”
As Rico withdrew his arm from over her breasts, a moan slipped out of her. Desperate to regain the erotic contact, she tried to push herself upright while keeping her legs apart. Failing, she sank back against him. Her unseeing eyes burned. Thankfully the hand on her sex remained where she needed it.
“He kept your arms immobilized when you were in the river because he wanted the pleasure and work of cleaning you. He marched you to the middle. You started floating. When you begged him not to let you drown, he ordered you to trust him. It was hard. You didn’t know how to swim which—do you know how?”