by Naomi West
My heart began to race, partially out of fear and partially out of excitement. Last night I’d only shown him my body—he hadn’t seemed to be interested in anything more than that—but what if today he wanted to take my virginity? The thought of having sex both thrilled and frightened me, and all I could do was take a big sip of my wine in hopes of calming myself down. But before the wine could kick in, the thumping echo of Tank’s combat boots sounded through the cavernous entrance hallway, growing louder and louder.
And moments later, there he was.
I swallowed hard. Standing at the entrance of the lounge, his beefy, bare, tattoo-covered arms crossed over his huge chest, his icy blue eyes like two brilliant sapphires among his rugged, tan, gorgeous face, Tank looked larger than life.
“Stand,” he said.
I complied, scampering to my feet. As I got up, Tank took a seat, and I could feel his eyes on my body all the while. As I turned to face him, I realized that he didn’t seem all that interested in the champagne—all his interest was focused on my exposed skin.
“Take off my boots,” he said, his voice stern.
I got right to it. Setting down my now-empty glass of wine, I knelt in front of Tank, his dirty, scuffed combat boots before me. They were a mess of frayed and worn laces, and I set to work gingerly undoing them. I looked up at Tank as I worked and saw that he was looking away, a pensive expression on his face. He reached over and grabbed his glass of champagne, downing it all with a single swig. Part of me wanted to ask him about his day, but the other part of me realized that there was no chance he was the type to open up about things like that. I was sure the best I could do was just to do as he asked.
I removed his socks along with his boots, then looked up at him for my next command.
“Get me whiskey,” he said.
I nodded, my eyes wide. But as I began to get up, he placed his hand on my head, holding me in place.
“Don’t walk.”
He wants me to crawl on all fours? I thought. What am I, a dog?
“Don’t forget for a moment that you’re my pet,” he said, as if picking up on my hesitation.
I turned around got on all fours and began to move towards the bar.
“Slower,” he said, his voice low and sensual. “Put that ass into it.”
I complied, moving on my hands and knees at a more leisurely pace. And as I crawled, I swayed my ass from side to side. I could feel his eyes burning into my rear, and that same thrill at being the center of his attention took over me. I should’ve felt degraded, but the only feeling building within me was that same tight, hot arousal as yesterday.
Once I reached the bar, I turned back to Tank. He flicked his chin up, and I understood that as my cue to stand up. I made his drink and brought it over, making sure that my hips had the same slow sway to them. Then, I stood still.
“You learn fast,” he said, noting that I was awaiting his command. “We’re going to go a little further than last night. Go to my box.”
I complied. He turned on the music as I walked, the lounge filling with sensual, sexy, jazzy-electronic music. Upon reaching the box, I popped it open. All manner of toys stared back at me. I didn’t know where to begin.
“Get that small black bag and the silver, curved one. Bring them over to me.”
I spotted a small drawstring bag of black silk and picked it up. The other toy was a silver, curved thing that was about the perfect size for my hand.
Wait a minute, I thought. That’s a …
Vibrator. It was a vibrator. I know it’s a little strange that I was so startled by this, but I’d never seen one in person before. Didn’t I say that I was sheltered? I wrapped my hands around the cool rubber, feeling the heft in my grip.
I returned to Tank and awaited my next orders.
“Take off your bra.”
I did as he asked. To my surprise, my nipples were already hard.
“Now open the bag.”
I did, dumping the contents out into my hand. It was a pair of small silver clamps, attached by a black chain.
“Put those on your nipples.”
I gasped, my face going red.
“You might like it a little more than you’re thinking,” said Tank, picking up on my shock.
I did as he asked. The vibrator cradled in one hand, I attached the first clamp to my left nipple, a shudder and a gasp leaving my body as I did. The feeling was … odd. Once I’d accustomed myself to the initial pinch, a strange feeling swirled through my body, a feeling that was a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Now the other.”
I obeyed, attaching the other clamp.
“Now put your hands at your sides.”
I obeyed, standing still. The feeling of the clamps on my nipples was all I could think about. They were two perfect pinches that sent twin shockwaves of pain and pleasure through my body. Goosebumps formed on my body, and my breath and heart both quickened.
“Now your panties. But leave on the heels.”
I shucked off my underwear, just as he’d asked. He looked down at the thick tuft of hair above my sex, shaking his head as he did.
“We’ll have to do something about that,” he said. “But some other time.”
I felt a little embarrassed at this, especially since now I was nude aside from my heels and the clamps. Tank put his foot and a nearby footstool and moved it over to me.
“Put one foot on this.”
I did, my sex now exposed.
“Turn on the vibrator.”
I did, the device coming to life in my hand.
“Now touch yourself.”
I looked down at the shaking toy in my hand, unaware of where to begin. Sure, I’d …played … with myself before, but never like this. The entirety of my sexual experience was nothing more than me rubbing myself every now and then, maybe grinding on a pillow if I was feeling really wild. I’d never even had an orgasm … at least, I thought.
So, the pleasure from the clamps still radiating throughout my body, I lowered the vibrator to my sex. Pointing the angled portion at where it had always felt good to touch, I pressed it down gently.
If what I’d felt from the clamps was a mild pleasure, this was like a goddamn tidal wave of ecstasy. As soon as the vibrator came into contact with my sex, pleasure shot out like a bomb blast. It was so intense that my first instinct was to move the thing away as fast as possible.
“Nope,” he said. “No taking it away until I say so.”
I gave a quick nod as I pressed the toy back onto myself. The pleasure started right away, the hot waves radiating out from my most delicate areas. I held it there gently, afraid to press too hard. My eyes were winced shut right away, though through small peeks I could see that Tank was watching me intently.
After a little time, I got used to the feeling of the vibrator and began moving it up and down along my sex, stimulating new areas. The pleasure built with each second, and I could feel my legs grow weak as I struggled to support my own weight through the pleasure. Soon, the sensation became all I could think about. Moans escaped my mouth that I had not control over, and I continually ran my free hand through my hair. My teeth sank into my lower lip so hard that I worried I might break the skin. Something was building in me, something intense and unbelievably pleasurable that I’d never before experienced. I could sense that it was on the brink of happening, whatever it was.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I moaned, the words coming out as in instinct.
“Now,” said Tank, his voice low and sensual, the sound of his words only contributing to the pleasure. “I want you to cum. But only when I say so.”
My teeth still biting down on my lip, I nodded. I’d never cum before, but I could sense that it was close, so close. I fiddled with the speed of the vibrator, the whirr of the motor increasing in volume as I did. I wanted to cum so badly; it was so tantalizingly close.
“Do you want to cum?” he said.
I nodded, my face tight.
&
nbsp; “Tell me how bad you want to cum.”
“I want to cum so bad,” I said, the words coming out in pained squeaks.
“How bad?”
“So … so fucking bad.”
“Who’s my pet?”
I struggled to form the words through the pleasure.
“Who is my pet?” he repeated, sterner this time.
“I-I am,” I said, now barely able to stand.
“And when does my pet get to cum?”
I was close, so very close.
“When … when my master says so.”
“That’s right,” he said.
Another shriek slipped out of my mouth, the loudest one yet. I forced open one eye slightly, hoping to see some sign that he was going to give the word. I needed to cum, more than I could ever remember needing anything, and his holding it off was almost like some kind of strange torture.
“Cum,” he said, the word deep and low.
As though Tank had some spell over my body, it happened. The pleasure broke through water smashing through a damn. I moaned and screamed as the feeling took hold; it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I pressed the vibrator hard against my pussy, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure from the orgasm. My chest heaved with aroused breaths, and my knees wobbled underneath me.
Soon, the feeling began to fade, and I turned the vibrator down to a lower volume. Once the orgasm was finished, I turned the thing off. My breaths were so heaving and heavy that they seemed to drown out the music.
“Very good, pet,” said Tank, rising from his seat. “You put on a good show. The rest of the evening is yours.”
And with that, he turned and walked from the room, leaving me alone just as he had before.
Chapter Nine
Star
The next week was like some kind of strange dream.
The routine was the same: Tank would be gone in the morning, and I had the run of the house until he came back later in the day, always sending me a text telling me when to expect him and that I needed to be ready for him. Before he arrived, I’d spend an hour or so getting ready, taking my pick of the clothes in the walk-in. Then, when he arrived, I was at his command until he was done.
What he wanted specifically varied, but it all, so far, seemed to involve me putting on a show. He’d ask me to dance for him, to touch myself, to cum … all for his viewing amusement. The tools used in this process changed. At first, it was the clamps and the vibrator. Then it was cuffs. Then it was a remote-controlled vibrator that he controlled from the couch; Tank seemed to take exquisite pleasure in bringing me close to orgasm and taking me back from the brink, teasing me over and over again as he sipped his whiskey and watched me squirm in pleasure until I begged for release.
Later in the week, he began to take a more “active” roll in the show. One night, he bent me over, handcuffing me to the bar. Once I was restrained, he pulled down my panties and slapped my ass hard. The feeling of his firm palm connecting with my ass was ... indescribable. I felt as though I might melt like butter under a heat lamp. He squeezed and kneaded the flesh of my rear, breathing in hard through his nose. I wondered with panic if this was the night he was going to finally have sex with me. Thrill and panic gripped me as I wondered I was going to hear a zipper being pulled own followed by ... well, I didn’t quite know what to expect. I’d never had a man inside of me before.
But as I stood there bent over, my hands restrained, my teeth sinking into my lower lip in thrilled anticipation, I heard the vibrator click on, coming to life with a dull whirr. First, Tank rubbed my sex with it, touching me with such expert skill that I felt I might cum instantly. But just as he knew how to make me feel good, he also knew just how to delay the pleasure. He teased me, moving the vibrator over my clitoris, the feeling making me crazy. Then, after teasing my lips with the tip of the toy, he slipped it into me. The feeling of fullness, coupled with the sensation of the vibrator roaring inside of me, brought me instantly close to orgasm.
And just when I thought the pleasure couldn’t be any more intense, Tank moved in close to me and placed his hand on my inner thigh. The skin of his palm was rough just in the way I’d imagined it to be, and I couldn’t get enough. Slowly, the vibrator doing its amazing work in me, he moved his hand up along my thigh, coming to a rest as the side of his index finger was pressed against my clitoris. He began to move his hand back and forth, rubbing me slowly and sensually, the sensation of finally being touched by him making me feel ways I’d never imagined.
Soon I came harder than any of the previous days, and as I stood there with wobbling legs, all I could think about was how much I wanted more and more of him inside of me.
I found myself staying up at night, lying in bed and imagining what it would be like to have Tank’s firm hands on my hips, holding me in place as he drove his cock into me over and over again. I imagined lying under him, my legs wrapped around his hard, muscular body, his blue eyes brilliant and sparkling as he stared down at me, his prick plunging into me at a deep, steady pace.
Like I said, I’d never been much for masturbating, but the thought of Tank fucking me was enough to “inspire” me to get really good at it really quickly. One night, I even snuck down into the lounge. I swiped the vibrator out of the box and lay down on the couch. The scent of his body still lingering in the air and in the fabric, I draped one leg over the back of the couch, flicked the vibrator on, and brought myself to orgasm again and again. And as I came, I kept one eye open, hoping that Tank would hear me, come down, and finish the job in the way I knew only he could.
But, alas, he never came. Though I did. Repeatedly.
Aside from the maid service that came once, I was the only one there when Tank was gone for the day. He gave me the run of the place and as I became more comfortable there, I began spending my days relaxing in the sun, swimming in the massive pool in the backyard, and making food in the kitchen.
Tank never seemed to eat, which was strange—I would think that a man with the muscular physique he had would be gobbling down steak by the pound. But if he did, I never saw it. After I started to feel lazy doing nothing, I began to make little thises and thats in the kitchen, using my phone as a recipe book. I couldn’t connect to any social media using the phone, but I could look up things like cooking websites. A first, I began to make stuff for me for lunch. Nothing crazy—just sandwiches and soups. After a day or two of this, however, I started thinking about Tank. Was he just one of those guys who was so busy that he never ate?
Maybe I could do something about that.
One day during the afternoon, I pulled a massive slab of frozen steak out of the freezer. Once it was thawed, I set to work making a nice little dinner. I prepared the steak garlic and butter style, and to go along with it I made some potatoes au gratin and roasted vegetables. Once it was done, I covered it up, set a note next to it letting him know it was for him, and began to prepare for our evening routine.
Once we were done and I was lying on the couch in a blissed-out mess, I heard him walk down the hallway as he usually did. But this time, he stopped in front of the kitchen. I heard him walk into it, and a few moments later leave. When he had gone up the stairs, I scampered to the kitchen, not even bothering to put on my underwear. Sure enough, the food was gone. All that remained was the bottle cap from a beer that he’d taken from the fridge.
As I stood there, a little pleased smile on my face, a disturbing thought entered my mind: I hadn’t been thinking about escape. Not once in the last few days had I done a single thing about my plan to get the hell out of this prison I was in. My thoughts had been consumed by Tank, whether thinking of ways to please him or getting myself off to the idea of him fucking me.
Standing at the entrance of the kitchen, I made a vow to not give up my freedom so easily.
But try as I might to summon it, the will just wasn’t there.
Chapter Ten
Tank
I couldn’t believe it, but as the day went on, all I c
ould think about was the steak that Star’d made for me.
It was fucking perfect: cooked medium rare, seasoned just right, the potatoes and vegetables going along with it perfectly. When I’d finished up with her, I’d been ready to just head up to my room, maybe do a few sets in my private gym, shower, and get to bed. But when I walked into the kitchen and saw that there was a home-cooked meal waiting for me, a hunger that I didn’t even know I had took over. I grabbed the plate, along with a beer, and headed upstairs. I started picking at it as I walked, the au gratin potatoes cheesy and savory like nothing else. Once I sat out on my balcony and had the food in front of me, I devoured it like an animal who’d just woken up from hibernation. Once I was done, nothing in front of me but a plate smeared with grease and blood, I took a long swig from my beer.