‘Are you available, or is this just make-believe?’ he demanded.
Constance glanced at KT, who nodded.
‘Yes, master, I’m available,’ she replied.
‘In that case, I want to meet you,’ he said. ‘If you are what you say you are, you should have no objections.’
‘Er, I’d very much like to meet you.’ KT’s cane tapped her shoulder. ‘But of course you’ll have to make the necessary arrangements with my master,’ she added hastily.
Such was the response to her broadcast that she remained on air until almost four a.m. After he had thanked the audience for listening and signed off for the night, KT announced his verdict on her performance.
‘Constance, you are a natural,’ he said. ‘From now on you can consider yourself a regular on S/M-FM. You would like that, I presume?’
‘I can’t believe how much I enjoyed it,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’d love to do it again, master. Is that the reward you had in mind?’
He shook his head. ‘I had no specific reward in mind – not until that chap called Ron said he would like to meet you. That, my dear, is your reward.’
Constance was aghast. ‘You expect me to really meet him? But… but I thought we were just playing a game.’
‘A game in which I set the limits,’ KT replied. ‘He’s already spoken with G and arranged a time and place for your rendezvous. Nine o’clock tonight. He can’t wait to get his hands on you.’
‘But I only spoke to him for a few minutes,’ she protested. ‘He could be some kind of maniac, or anything. No, it’s too dangerous. I’m not doing it.’
‘You must learn to trust me,’ he said patiently. ‘In the unlikely event of this chap turning out to be a psychopathic pervert, I’ll be standing by to rescue you. Don’t say you’re losing your appetite for danger, just as it’s getting so exciting?’
‘I’m not doing it, and you can’t force me,’ she declared firmly.
He shrugged. ‘Please yourself. G will be glad to take your place and I’m sure I’ll have no trouble finding a replacement slave for the “Hot Seat”. I thought you were made of sterner stuff, Constance.’
She had always prided herself on an iron-clad ability to resist emotional blackmail, especially where men were concerned. Unlike in the club, KT was now asking her to place herself in real physical danger. Yet, despite her grave reservations, there was a part of her that yearned to embrace the danger and experience the wild thrill of sex with a potentially lethal stranger. It was to this treacherous instinct that KT applied all his powers of persuasion.
Knowing she might well live to regret it, Constance finally agreed, with great reluctance, to meet her admirer.
Chapter 5
KT picked her up from her home at seven-thirty that evening. In accordance with his instructions, she was dressed for the tryst in a loose-fitting denim shirt and blue jeans, with no underwear. When she pleaded with him to at least tell her where she was meeting the mystery man, he replied that she would find out soon enough.
In the course of the day she had managed to justify her madness by convincing herself that Ron would fail to show up. In all probability he was just a lonely and frustrated man who had used S/M-FM radio as a cheap alternative to a sex line. Such a man would never have the guts to keep an appointment with an unknown woman, even if he did believe she was serious about wanting to meet him.
Over an hour passed before KT’s silver Rover reached its destination, at the end of a pot-holed country lane. Ahead lay a dense forest. The last house they had passed was several miles back.
‘Right, out you get,’ he told her.
‘Here?’ she exclaimed.
He nodded. ‘This is the place. Hurry up. I want to get you ready and get myself out of sight before he arrives.’
Constance knew it would be pointless to plead with him. She had committed herself to whatever was about to happen and did not wish to humiliate herself and anger him by going back on her word. She consoled herself with a mental reminder that Ron was unlikely to show up. With any luck KT would then use the occasion to ravish her himself. She assumed he had been prevented from doing so at the mansion by the presence of G. He would not have that excuse this time. Constance had no idea of the nature of his relationship with the red-haired slave, nor did she care. KT epitomised her ideal of a real man – handsome, arrogant and masterful. She was his for the taking, wherever and whenever he pleased. If G had any objection that was just too bad.
He took a small black sack from the boot of his car, then led Constance down a narrow path through the forest. With every step her trepidation increased. She had expected her rendezvous with Ron to take place in an hotel, not some remote woodland where only a few wild animals would hear her screams, should the worst happen.
They walked for several minutes, finally emerging into a clearing among the trees. She refrained from commenting on the fact that KT obviously knew his way around the forest. Pointing to a large oak tree at the edge of the clearing, he ordered her to stand with her back to it. He then reached into his sack and produced a length of thick rope.
‘You’re not going to tie me up?’ she cried.
‘That’s exactly what I’m going to do,’ he replied. ‘Now, stretch your arms out behind your back.’
‘But I’ll be completely at his mercy,’ she protested.
He sighed. ‘That, my slave, is the whole idea. So stop behaving like a silly little girl and do as you’re told.’
Constance almost told him to go to hell, but instead she obediently stretched back her arms. He tied the rope around her left wrist, then pulled it tightly around the thick tree trunk and similarly secured her right. He forced a second rope between her teeth, pulled it tight and knotted it around the tree, binding and gagging her in one.
‘Mmmmmfffff!’ she whimpered, struggling futilely against the ropes.
‘Don’t waste your time trying to break free,’ he told her. ‘I’m a bondage expert. All you have to do now is wait for your date to arrive. I’ll be… somewhere, should you need me. Have fun.’
With that, he picked up his sack, turned and left her. Constance continued to struggle for a few more minutes, but his expertise with the ropes had been no idle boast. She cursed her own foolishness and vowed that, if she survived this lesson in terror, she would forever more turn her back on KT and his bizarre games.
As the minutes ticked tortuously by and the forest remained eerily silent, she grew increasingly confident that Ron would fail to appear. The thought that KT might have simply brought her here in order to abandon her was too terrible to contemplate.
After what seemed an eternity she heard the crackle of twigs underfoot and the sound of somebody slowly approaching from behind. She could not move her head to look around, but prayed it was KT returning to free her. Her hopes were dashed, a moment later, when the figure of a balding and portly man, in his mid-fifties, stepped into view.
In his ankle-length tan raincoat and olive green wellington boots, he resembled a stereotypical dirty old man. He silently surveyed his helpless and terror-stricken captive through eyes that radiated bestial lust.
‘You’re better-looking than I’d ever dreamt possible,’ he said, eventually. ‘I was half expecting to have made a wasted journey, but how wrong can a man be? So considerate of your master to have prepared you so well for me. Let’s have a better look at you, shall we?’
With trembling fingers he began unbuttoning Constance’s shirt. Up close, he smelt of stale cigar smoke. Though she knew it was a forlorn hope, she silently pleaded for KT to save her from this man. As the creamy globes of her breasts came into view, his breathing became more frantic and his fingers worked with increased zeal on her buttons. When the last one was undone he pulled her shirt open and feasted his eyes on her naked upper body.
‘I’ve surely died and gone to heaven,’ he panted, caressing h
er breasts with damp palms. ‘I’d normally pay a small fortune for such a perfect woman, but I can do as I please with you for free.’
Constance could have died with shame when she felt her nipples stiffen against his palms. She could not permit herself to take any pleasure from the attentions of this lecherous little man. It was bad enough that she should be at his mercy, without giving him the additional satisfaction of knowing she was enjoying it.
Having fondled her breasts for several minutes and sucked greedily on both nipples, he reached for the buckle of her belt. She was tempted to kick him at that point, but in her present position that might not be wise. Besides, the moist tingling between her thighs betrayed a reaction she could not bear to consciously admit to herself.
He undid her belt and buttons, then fell to his knees and tugged her tight jeans down over her slender hips. The sight of her bare sex caused him to grunt excitedly. He pulled off her shoes, completely removed her jeans, and then pushed her ankles apart. Gazing lovingly at the moist folds of her slit, puckering through her dark blonde thatch, he began licking his way slowly upwards from her ankles. When his tongue had covered every inch of the front of both legs, he parted her labia with both thumbs and commenced an intimate feast, slurping noisily and murmuring his appreciation of her nectar. Constance chomped on the rope between her teeth, whimpering in ecstasy rather than protest. She moved her legs further apart and gently thrust her crotch against his face, leaving him in no doubt about the delightful effect his eagerly burrowing tongue was having upon her.
A few minutes later he raised her legs onto his shoulders and she wrapped them tightly around his neck. This was a much better position for him to bury his face between her thighs and enjoy her juicy fruit more thoroughly. His hands squeezed her buttocks, right thumb gently caressing the bud of her anus. As her first orgasm, several minutes later, sent sensual shock-waves through her entire body, he pushed the tip of his thumb into her nether orifice. Even had she been able to speak, Constance would not have protested at this exceptional liberty.
He continued to lap and slurp on her sex and wriggle his thumb in her bottom until she was near the point of her second climax. Then he disengaged her legs from around his neck and stood up, appreciatively smacking his lips.
‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ he grinned, unbuckling the belt of his raincoat. ‘I’m far from finished with you.’
He flung open the raincoat, revealing himself to be completely naked underneath. His pot-bellied physique was far from appealing, but the thick cock that jutted from below it was a reasonable compensation. Not long ago Constance would not have looked twice at such a man. Now she ached for him as though he were a muscular blond Adonis.
He raised her legs and she wrapped them around his lower back, urging the bulbous crown of his cock towards the mouth of her sex. With a hoarse cry of pleasure he eased the full length of his thick shaft into her well-oiled tunnel.
As he proceeded to fuck her with short, aggressive stabs of his cock, he squeezed her breasts and pinched her throbbing nipples. The discomfort of her position and the rope biting into her wrists served only to heighten her pleasure. Wherever KT was watching from, she hoped he was enjoying the show.
Shortly after Constance had climaxed for the second time, he uttered a guttural cry and lowered his perspiration-sheened and crimson face to the soft cushions of her breasts. She shuddered as she felt his hot, thick semen flood her depths. Afterwards, instead of withdrawing, he kissed her breasts as he recovered his breath. She kept him wrapped between her legs, savouring the warmth of his semen and the sensation of his cock gradually losing its stiffness inside her.
‘What a woman,’ he gasped, finally raising his head. ‘If I were your master, I wouldn’t dream of sharing you with another man.’
The only response Constance could manage was a muffled whimper. The man resumed kissing and fondling her breasts. Sooner than she would have expected, she felt his cock stiffen again. He resumed his thrusts, gently at first, increasing the momentum as his tool returned to full erection. This second time was far less hurried and he was determined to enjoy it to the full. He managed to maintain the languidly thrusting tempo for at least twenty minutes, before his cock finally spewed its second creamy payload into Constance. In that time her breath was taken away by two further orgasms. She made a mental note to never again judge a book by the cover.
It was getting dark by the time the fat man finally withdrew his wet and flaccid cock from her and belted up his raincoat. A hurried goodbye and then he was gone, leaving the exhausted slave trussed to the tree. Another twenty minutes passed before KT returned to release her, by which time the chill air and deepening darkness had brought goose-bumps to her skin.
‘Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he asked as she hurriedly pulled her jeans back on.
‘It was… different.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ he said, folding his ropes. ‘It won’t be the last such encounter, that I can promise you.’
More than anything else that had happened to her since that first call to S/M-FM, the encounter in the woods marked the turning point in Constance’s life. Though the sex in itself had been most enjoyable, the real thrill of the occasion had been her state of total helplessness. How that man in the raincoat and wellingtons must have savoured the sight of such a beautiful young slut tied to a tree, completely at his mercy! Her only regret was that he had not brought a Polaroid camera and presented her with a memento of the occasion.
During the following week, she found herself counting down the hours to her next broadcast on S/M-FM. KT further whetted her anticipation by calling her at work on Wednesday afternoon, to inform her that he had a very special game planned for the next edition of Slave in the Hot Seat. No more details would be forthcoming until Saturday night.
She arrived at his mansion several hours earlier than expected, dressed in a whorish ensemble of scarlet high heels, matching leather micro-skirt and see-through fishnet vest. If KT’s butler was pleasantly surprised by the sight that greeted him when he answered the front door, he kept the fact well hidden.
‘The master wasn’t expecting you so early,’ he curtly informed her.
‘I couldn’t wait,’ she admitted with a coy smile. ‘May I come in?’
‘I suppose so,’ he replied, stepping aside. ‘But you’ll have to wait in the study. He is—’ he paused momentarily, clearly considering the appropriate terminology, ‘—busy, and left strict instructions that he wasn’t to be disturbed.’
Constance was disappointed, but knew better than to insist on seeing him. Matthews escorted her to the study, poured her a drink and invited her to make herself at home. It would be at least an hour before KT was ready to join her.
Left alone, she suddenly realised that this was an ideal opportunity to perhaps learn a few of her master’s closely guarded secrets. Discovering even his full name would be something of an achievement. She mitigated a pang of guilt by telling herself that he was probably ‘busy’ upstairs with G.
His desktop was bare, so her only option was to try the drawers. The first one she opened contained a cane, cat o’nine tails, thick leather strap and a set of handcuffs. She took out the cane and flexed it, the feel of the hard wood sending a sensual shudder through her body. If KT did catch her rifling through his possessions, she hoped this was what he would use to punish her.
The second drawer down revealed an even more intriguing discovery – a single sheet of white paper, bearing a crest in the form of a set of handcuffs resting on a spike-heeled shoe. Printed in blood red gothic script underneath were the words, Slave Contract. Constance took a sip from her drink, glanced towards the door, then sat back in KT’s chair and began reading.
I, the undersigned, being of legally consenting age, do hereby surrender myself completely to my master. I do so of my own free will, in a spirit of servitude and unselfish obedience. I will, at all
times, obey without question the commands of my master and attend to his needs above all others. Should I fail in my duties, or in any way displease him, it is his right to punish me as he sees fit. I will accept such punishments without protest and strive continually to be nothing less than the perfect slave. In addition to submitting to my master’s every sexual desire, I will attend to domestic and any other duties assigned by him. This document binds master and slave to their respective roles, until such time as either party expresses, in writing, their desire to change it.
The contract was signed by Mr Kenton Turley (master) and Miss Gina Lessways (slave).
Pleased, yet also slightly dismayed by what she had learnt, Constance replaced the contract in the drawer and continued her search. In the third drawer, on top of a small pile of documents, lay a video cassette. Written on the label was the name, Constance.
She stared at the cassette for several minutes, as if by doing so she could somehow decipher what was on it. Was it possible that KT had videotaped her at The Master’s Masque, or with the man in the woods? There was only one way to find out.
She slid aside several wooden panels on the wall, before finding the one that concealed a video player and TV screen. She inserted the cassette, switched on the machine and stood back to watch. When the face of KT appeared she uttered a small gasp.
‘Good evening, Constance,’ he began. ‘I had hoped you might arrive a little early and, once again, you have not disappointed me. If you are watching this, then you have been snooping where you had no right to snoop. I’m waiting for you upstairs, second door on the left. Come up and be punished, at once.’
As she made her way upstairs, Constance was more annoyed by her own stupidity than the fiendish machinations of KT. Whatever punishment awaited her, it would be no more than she deserved.
All for Her Master Page 5