“Thank you.” I linked the cuffs, feeling odd in this reversal of roles.
“You know this is wrong. You can’t keep me here forever.”
“Ya think? You have no idea how determined Klaus can be once he sets his mind on something.”
“Huh.” She looked disgruntled, as if she’d expected me to go, hallelujah, you’re right, and free her all of a sudden. “Aren’t you worried you’ll go to Hell, as well as jail?”
“And you won’t? You’re no angel either, Steph.” I wasn’t getting into the philosophy of this with her. Mainly because I hadn’t got the right and wrong of this straight in my head yet. Maybe I never would.
“A friend once said if you can’t tell your mother about something you’re doing, you shouldn’t be doing it.”
I snorted. “There’s a lot of things I do I’d not tell my family. You can scratch that argument off the list.”
She shrugged. “Worth trying.”
Still shaking my head, I unlocked the chain then I made her walk into the en-suite where there was both a toilet and a shower. I let the leash dangle down to the tiles. “Now, shower.” And I leaned on the open door.
“I need to pee,” she muttered.
“Oh.” So many little things to consider. Damn. How safe was it to… “Go, then. The door stays open. I’ll be just outside.”
Every second of every minute I half-expected her to jump me and try to strangle me or something worse. Whatever was holding her in check? Uncertainty of the outcome? Klaus’s threat? I was not ever going to carry a gun or a knife. If it came to that I may as well let her go. Klaus had seen some submissiveness in her, but no one sane would do anything and everything you told them to, just because you said it, no matter how dominant you were. We needed more to hold her with.
However, the prospect of the shower made the anxiety worthwhile. My imagination had been poking at me.
“In.” I gestured.
She turned it on, adjusted the taps, and stepped under the flow. I loved women’s bodies—and that one scene we’d done when Kat had dommed me with the men present too, them fucking me, Klaus domming me as well—an incredible experience.
The water ran down Stephanie’s back, making her skin shiny, dripping off her bottom…the rearrangement of all those pretty muscles as she turned under the water made me swallow. Then she hissed and went to step aside.
“What?” I moved to steady her with my hand on her hip. The shock of touching a woman’s flesh echoed inside me.
“My ass stings,” she growled, head down. “Let me out. I’m only washing off that ointment.”
“No. You need to clean up. I’ll re-apply it after. Stand still and I’ll soap you. You can’t reach here, on your back.” My tongue tip sneaked onto my lip as I waited, praying that she’d do this. When she said nothing more, I picked up the bar of white soap and smoothed it across her shoulders, then lower. But skin on skin tempted me, so I lathered soap on my hand then reapplied myself to diligently moving bubbly soap on her slickened back from point A to point B.
When I’d dreamed of a ménage, I’d never gone further than what I’d already done. A limited scene, limited contact, me being ordered about. But, wow, a woman’s curves beneath my hand was a symphony of sensations. I daren’t shut my eyes for fear of missing something.
I guess my jeans were getting wet. So was I.
“Stephanie.” Then I recalled what worked for me. I moved in until my mouth was within licking distance from her ear and said hoarsely. “Turn around.”
She had braced her cuffed hands on the shower wall. Her inhalations and exhalations seemed labored, and her mouth, oh my, her lips, they were so kissable and swollen looking, so lickable.
I settled instead for the slow curl of my tongue across her ear lobe, plus a tiny suck. “Turn.”
After a bare moment, she did so.
When her eyes met mine…the zing that act of obedience gifted me with.
Soap drip-dripping from my fingers, I looked her up, and down. “You’re so beautiful.” Annoying, how raspy my voice had come out. “Don’t move. I’m going to soap up your…” Breasts. The word caught in my throat. “…front.”
A man was a feat of strength and engineering and dominance. A woman, I decided, was a hot bundle of sex, elegance, and beauty.
Without asking, I placed the flat of my hand on her stomach and urged her a half-step backward so the water ran over her raven-black hair, then over her breasts, curling like a sumptuous river.
“Jodie, it’s not… This isn’t—”
I laid my finger across her lips. “Shh. Say nothing.”
Words might ruin this, so I soaped her body while I watched both her and her eyes, enthralled by the signs of her arousal as I circled and cupped the heavy mounds of her breasts, and by her hastened breathing and parted lips. Playing with her nipples, first in a pretend accidental way, caused no protests. Delighted at her response, and bolder, I took each nipple and squeezed them, over and over. They shrank into taut little buttons.
I imagined how they’d feel sliding under my licking tongue.
“Jodie—”
“Shh.”
I played some more until her hips gave a little sideways wriggle.
When I ventured southward and allowed myself to slide a finger straight down the middle of her mons, over the bump of her growing clitoris, and farther…oh the bliss as she closed her eyes and moaned just a little. I smiled. She tilted her hips forward onto my hand.
I kept it up. Being a woman, I knew the rhythm that would get me off. This time, simple was best. Next time though… Sliding, slipping, up, down, I let the soap wash off and went in for the kill, my finger went up, up, up into her cunt, while I watched her arch even more and the flutter of her closed eyelids.
As I used my thumb on her clit, I felt the clench and unclench of her thighs on my hand then she came with her walls spasming down onto my finger.
“Fuck, that was glorious,” I breathed. I moved in, jamming her into the tiles of the shower, flattening my clothed body against her naked one. “I made you come didn’t I? Say it.”
Her reply was a bare weak “Mmm.”
I shut off the taps.
“Good.” I bit her lip a few times then I worked my way down to her neck in nibbles and licks. I was now completely soaked but the result had been so worth it. “Let’s get dry,” I murmured to her neck while tasting it yet again.
Rapport, Klaus had said. I was doing this part well, wasn’t I?
I decided not to put on more jeans. Last time hadn’t worked out so well. After we’d dried ourselves, I ended up sitting on the bed in shorts and a new t-shirt, with her leash in hand.
“Lie across me and I’ll redo the ointment,” I said softly, patting the bed beside my thigh. She’d not said a word since that orgasm. Maybe it had shocked her as much as me? Maybe she hoped it had miraculously not happened?
She shifted from one foot to the other. “I could put it on myself?”
“No.”
Stephanie grimaced. “No? I’m not a child, you know.”
I merely raised an eyebrow. I was getting the hang of giving orders. Besides, this one had good consequences.
“Okay.” After a petulant tweak of her mouth, she let me help her to lower herself until she was across my lap, wriggled once then lay still. “Do it.”
That sounded wrong, defiant even? If a submissive instructed Klaus, what would he do? Hmm. This I could fix. I slapped her hard on one ass cheek.
“Ssss!” She tried to sit up but I pushed her down.
“No telling me when to do anything. Understood?”
“Eh. No? I mean…”
I slapped her again.
“Shit! Look—”
“More?” I asked.
After a few seconds the tension in her back ebbed. “No. I guess…”
“Sorry that you swore? Or do I have to inform Klaus?”
“You wouldn’t!” Stephanie sniffed then sighed. “I’m sorry.”<
br />
“Good.” I unscrewed the tube of ointment. “We have to talk and maybe this is a good time.” I began to rub in the ointment. Not a hardship at all, relaxing in a way, attending to this well-formed, though bruised bottom. If only the shower activities hadn’t left me madly wanting Klaus’s tongue, or someone else’s…like Steph’s.
But I had topics to cover. I thought for a while. Where to start?
“You understand, Stephanie, that we intend to let you go once we trust each other?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Seemed the orgasm or the massage had relaxed her. That amused me.
“So,” I moved some ointment onto a bruised area. “So, it would be in all our interests to get this trust thing worked out sooner, yes?”
“Mm-hm.”
“We need to get to know each other…very well.” We needed, perhaps, to see things from her perspective. If I were Steph, what would I be worried about? Really though, there were things I was worried about too. Things I needed to hear twice before I moved on.
That familiar obstruction clogged my throat. I tried, maybe failed a little, to keep my words steady.
“You said Leon didn’t rape me. Are you sure?” I hurried on. “Klaus isn’t here. Is there anything you were scared to say?”
With her lying on me, the tightening of her muscles was obvious.
“Steph?”
But she shook her head then turned and gave me a solid unwavering look. “He didn’t rape you. I swear it.” She turned away again. “You didn’t find anything did you, that made you think he had?”
I managed to swallow. “No. I didn’t.” The relief that swept me then was palpable. I hadn’t realized how much that had bothered me. I smiled. “Okay. Moving on.”
I thought of Klaus, and of Baxter, our here today, gone tomorrow cat who’d adopted us.
“Have you family, Steph? Pets? Is there anything we need to fix for you? I mean we can’t do anything about your job.”
Or about mine. I’d already been ringing everyone concerned over the weekend to excuse myself from projects and suggest they find a new producer/director—my previous job description. I was a little nervous asking her about pets, as what would we do if she said yes, she had a Great Dane back at her house or apartment that needed attention. No way could we cope with that. The cops would pounce on us.
“You want me to tell you about me? You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not. We need to trust you, and it follows that we need to know about each other.”
I could almost hear wheels turning in her head.
“I guess that makes sense.” Her doubt stood out in flaming red letters.
“Steph, if you try violence or to escape, and fail, Klaus will be so bloody angry.”
She stiffened.
“Why bother? If we will let you go anyway, why risk anything that might hurt you too. Do you really want to hurt me, Steph?” I reached and stroked her nape and soon her muscles relaxed. “This whole situation is beyond us all. We’re all in danger of criminal charges. Adapt. Do what we ask you to, and you’ll be free sooner.”
Time edged past. But I waited, patiently. This was so important.
“I…” She paused again. “Fuck. I don’t know.”
Emboldened by her hesitation, I let my hand find its way into the beginning of the cleft between her ass cheeks. I toyed a little there until her breathing deepened.
“You like this, Steph. You like me, yes? Sexually.”
“God.” She put her head deeper into the sheets. Her toes nudged into them at the other end. I waited some more. “Yes.”
“Good. Then this will work.” I stooped to kiss her bottom. “I like you too. Klaus wants you also. Did you know that?”
“No. Not exactly. Um. He does? I don’t know if I like that.”
I took the plunge. I didn’t want to be an equal submissive in this. “Be ours for a while. Why not? Learn to trust us. Show we can trust you.”
“He scares me.”
“You’ll find that’s part of his attraction.”
“It is? No. No. I don’t know still.”
I had a feeling Klaus had made up his mind that the three of us together was the only option. I’d leave it to him to convince her. Besides, we’d run way off track. “Back to my questions. Family? Pets?”
“Huh? No. No pets.” Her head wobbled in negation. “Family? Damn them. No. Mum died five years ago and my stepfather went back to Switzerland and a UN job. My stepbrothers went with him. Maybe Thom would worry, that’s it.”
“Thom? One of your stepbrothers?”
“Yes.”
For a second, I stilled my fingers. Sad, in a way. I recalled her at university as a very crazy party-goer, but happy. Scatterbrained sometimes, but she breezed through subjects I’d had trouble with. I guess she had that odd sort of smartness that just didn’t carry over into everyday life. And Leon and Melissa—how had she gotten mixed up with those two?
“How long did you know Melissa and Leon for?” Dear god I hoped she wasn’t going to say anything bad. If they’d been close…
“Not long.” She sighed. “I met them both at a swingers party a month ago. Melissa knew him better. I had coffee with her a couple of times after. That, the other night, was the first time I did, that. Fuck.” I heard her give a little cough like she was having trouble getting words out. “I’m sorry, I… Why am I saying that to you? I’m not sorry. Just, yeah, I’m dumb. Sad. She was a nice lady, really. Really she was.”
There wasn’t much I could add there. I knew they had been living people but I couldn’t connect. Not when so much bad associated in my head whenever I thought of that night. Maybe one day I could. Not now. I felt nothing for them except anger. I was, oddly, grieving more for Steph. But then she was here, lying over my lap. So I patted her until she seemed to relax.
I steered us back to calmer waters.
“So, you work where? Last I remember you were doing the journalism course, but you dropped out.”
She shifted, her bottom wobbling a bit. Funny how enticing a butt was. Well, to me it was, and to Klaus. He would like hers. The idea of both of us messing about in bed with Steph… I had to focus sharply. Thinking of sex right now was too distracting.
This bottom under my fingers is severely unattractive, I told myself. I bit my lip and drew an eensy-weensy circle on her with my finger. I sighed. Not likely that argument would take.
With her cuffed hands beneath her chin, she turned to peer back at me. “I did a nursing course after that. Dropped out again, did various jobs. I’ve been working at a car dealership for a year now. I’m…I was planning on joining the army. Even got my physical done.”
“You? In the army? Never.” I couldn’t figure that one.
“I guess I’m a bit of a wanderer. I’ve tried everything at least one time.”
Now that was the truth. Stephanie seemed to have trouble sticking faithfully to one thing for very long. Was that bad, for us? What if we let her go because she vowed to keep quiet, but then she reversed her decision?
“I’m done.” Lightly, I tapped her behind. “Let’s go find some breakfast.”
I’d have her help me. Maybe let her wash and dry dishes. There were knives out there, in the kitchen. It could be a test, of sorts. I think I had her figured out, but I would rather know now, not later. I’d count the knives. Though if she were naked, where could she hide one? In my back was about her only choice, and I somehow didn’t think she was that sort of girl.
My thoughts went to dirty places.
If instructed correctly, Stephanie seemed far more likely to cave in, kneel and lick me precisely where I told her to than to want to put a knife in my back. I wanted to test that theory out, soon.
Chapter 8
Klaus
The big square window in my office overlooking the Nelly Bay road and the beach beyond was suffering the usual seaside ailment of getting all blurry from the salt deposits on the glass. Not that I was enjoying th
e view. Disgusted by my procrastination, I shoved back my chair from the paper-assaulted desk. No matter how high tech we got, the paper documents piled up.
The office was the opposite of where I wanted to be. Leaving Jodie home with a woman who had reasons to hate us seemed the stupidest thing ever. Yet the alternative was to do something that would draw attention to this day if suspicion were to fall on us. Plus we had to earn a living and Jodie had little chance of matching my income. The practice was surging forward and my partner, Chris—well he was not a partner yet, though I had great hopes—Chris was turning out well.
Four reasons had gained him the job. He was a great accountant, innovative at times when it came to promoting the practice, and friendly. And the fourth reason, that he was into kink and one of Kat’s previous Doms…that was why I’d first noticed him.
I glanced at my watch. Almost two PM, we’d both had lunch in the office a while earlier but, with the lunchtime rush over, we could afford to have a break. Marjorie could take over. She been with me long enough to know the place back to front. I went out to reception and set it up with her.
After a single, unintelligible grumble at me about losing potential clients, she resumed typing.
I knocked on Chris’s office door.
“Come in!”
No matter how often I saw him, his neatly trimmed, pure-blond hair drew my eye. I doubted he bleached it. It was so close to white I felt like reaching for my sunglasses.
His desk looked a tad neater than mine, but then I’d been flinging a few docs about like Frisbees today. Not my usual manner. I guess having a kidnapped woman in my basement wasn’t too normal either. I doubted Marjorie would dismiss that excuse with merely a huffed look over her silver glasses.
“Think you can stand giving me that lesson on fling-dong-doo, or whatever martial art it is that you practice?”
He grinned. We had a running joke about judo versus more practical branches of fighting. I knew he was correct but that didn’t stop me ribbing him every chance I got, and since he happily taunted me back, we got along famously.
“Now?” Half-disbelieving, he looked from under his brow.
Bind and Keep Me, Book 2 Page 8