by Vonna Harper
Whip?
Yes, eventually.
Red! Red!
No. Not yet.
Chapter Seven
He grabbed her upper arms and marched her across the room, stopping when he’d shoved her against the closed door to what she assumed was the bedroom. When he let go, she knew not to move.
“The wind is increasing,” he whispered. “The trees are waving, bending, surrendering to a greater power. I know what that’s like.”
Alerted by his new tone, she searched her mind for something to say that might take her closer to understanding him. “How does that make you feel?” she finally came up with.
“Lost,” he muttered. “Helpless.”
Deeply shaken, she looked behind her. For maybe two seconds, their gazes locked, but she couldn’t see beneath the surface.
“You, helpless?” She swallowed. “That’s what I should be saying.”
“What?” He shook his head. “Damn it, I don’t want you moving. Get back into position.”
Even as she stared ahead of her, she vowed not to let another opportunity to get to know the man beneath the surface escape her. She heard him breathing, the sounds harsh, as if he’d been exerting himself. Finally, his breaths slowed and quieted.
“There are obvious drawbacks to the way I’ve restrained you.” His tone was back to normal. “For one, the longer the rope remains in place, the more feeling you’re going to lose in your arms.” He massaged the back of her neck. “There is one advantage, at least for me. Can you fathom what it is?”
“No.”
“It’s easier to control you.”
“Easier than this? What more do you want?”
She expected punishment. Hell, maybe she’d deliberately prodded him to see how he’d react.
“It’ll come,” he muttered.
“What will come?”
“Your acceptance. And pleasure.”
He wasn’t making sense, not that she was in any position to call it to his attention. She vowed to not say or do anything to antagonize him so maybe he’d relax. “I like the pleasure part.”
“I know.”
“Is that because all the women you’ve worked with are the same? How many have there been?”
He shoved her aside and opened the door. “No more talking, slave. Get in there.”
‘Slave’. The word snaked through her like something alive, and she barely paid attention to where she was going as he propelled her into the next room. Unlike the living room, the windows in this one were high and small. She glimpsed the sky and the tops of wildly gyrating trees. He’d been right, this was no gentle wind.
A queen-sized bed had been positioned near the middle of the room but that wasn’t what captured her attention. The space was a bondage playground, complete with a seven-foot-high metal ‘X’, chains hanging from the ceiling, and a wooden armchair with a hole where the seat should’ve been. Imagining what the box on the floor under the chair seat contained started her shivering all over again. A second wooden storage container had been placed against the wall to the left of the door.
Safe, she forcefully reminded herself. She was safe here.
Unless he got lost.
“The door locks from the outside,” he informed her. “I have the key.”
Of course he did. And he’d undoubtedly never let her forget it.
“First things first,” he continued from behind her. “Making you more comfortable.”
She jumped when he crossed one wrist over the other, but didn’t try to pull away. His finger felt so good, caressing and demanding at the same time. When he started looping the soft rope around her wrists, she drew a mental image of what he was doing. He was creating a multi-strand ‘X’ she’d never be able to get out of on her own and yet the blood flow wasn’t being cut off.
What was wrong with her? Shouldn’t she be protesting she’d had enough, that she’d changed her mind and wanted to go back to the life she knew?
No.
“This, too, will change.” He took hold of her wrists and lifted them, so she had no choice but to lean forward. After a pause, he continued. “My intention is to introduce you to the variety of positions I’ll put you into over the course of our time together.” He let go, allowing her to straighten. “This is just an example, a taste. From now on, you’ll always be restrained in one way or another. Freedom no longer has meaning to you.”
No longer free.
His captive.
His slave.
Wet heat filled her pussy. Shocked and excited, she fought the need to clench her inner muscles so, hopefully, he wouldn’t know everything about her. Determined to hold on to the sensation, she closed her eyes. Maybe she was a sick bitch, a nympho who’d been waiting her entire life for these moments. Oh, she knew he was deliberately testing her with words and actions, but she’d signed up for this and, by God, she was going to milk it for all it was worth.
As long as she could handle it.
“No objections?” he asked as he let go and, once more, rested his hands on her shoulders. “You didn’t say anything about my calling you a slave.”
“No.” She gave herself a mental shake and tried again. “I didn’t.”
“We’ll take another look at that later, but first things first.”
When his hands left her shoulders, fear that he intended to leave her locked in the room like this killed some of her sexual excitement. She didn’t trust herself not to beg him to stay with her. Then she realized he was releasing the rope on her elbows. The pins and needles sensation increased until she couldn’t hold back a moan.
“Learn to deal with it,” he said to her as he massaged her arms. “Discomfort is part of the experience.”
Every nerve in her upper body felt inflamed, yet she willed herself to stand in place. It hadn’t taken him long to demonstrate his mastery over her body. She likened herself to a wild filly that had been roped and dragged into a corral. However, unlike the panicked animal, she lived for every experience.
She wanted this. Needed ropes on her wrists, her shorts slashed, his hands easing away the discomfort he was responsible for. She even needed his moments of darkness.
“Better?” he asked.
“Better.”
“Thank me.”
She filled her lungs. “Thank you.”
“Not enough.” Using the rope on her wrists, he again forced her to lean over. “What’s my name, slave?”
I don’t know. “Master.” The word exploded from her. “Master.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear, but you don’t really believe it, not yet.” He forced her arms even higher so she was in danger of toppling. “Not yet.”
He started marching her forward, forcing her to concentrate on every step. All too soon they reached the bed. The plush white coverlet seemed new. Despite what was happening to her, she wondered who’d made the bed and what that person had been thinking while he or she had been at work.
A hard shove between her shoulder blades sent her head first into the clean-smelling cover. She turned her head to the side so she could breathe and made no attempt to straighten. The bed was waist-high. Her buttocks were on display, inches from his hands.
“Time to get a better look at the merchandise,” he informed her as he gripped her panties waistband. “I want to see what I’ll be working with.”
He started tugging the flimsy garment over her ass cheeks, making the journey slow, taking her with it. Goosebumps dotted her newly exposed flesh. Instead of finishing the task, so she was naked from the waist down, he left her panties bunched around her thighs.
“Spread your legs, slave. Show your Master what you have for him.”
Wait a minute! I’m not sure I want to be treated this way.
He slapped her left cheek with enough force to send her upper body sliding over the bed so her head hung off the side. “Shut up!” A second blow landed, this one on her right cheek. It stung. A lot.
“Damn it!” she blurted. �
��What the hell—?”
“One more outburst and I’ll gag you. You have so much to learn, starting and ending with understanding who owns you.”
As he continued spanking her, something shifted, an opening of an inner door. The energy exiting him and entering her said this was no game to him. He wasn’t some for-hire Dom brought in to fulfill a role for MSDB. Who he’d been before coming here today no longer existed.
Might never return.
And that made him dangerous.
Possibly deadly.
Red?
The blows became a storm, a battering of her senses that killed the question of whether to admit she’d had enough. A fierce burning sensation spread out until she was on fire from the middle of her back to her calves. Self-preservation instinct kicked in, causing her to try to escape the sensual yet harsh attack, but as she wrenched to the left or right or tried to straighten, he remained one step ahead of her. Her ability to think and plan splintered until only the desperate need to comprehend remained.
She sobbed, cursed, ducked her head and gnawed at the expensive fabric he’d imprisoned her against. Sweat bloomed everywhere as she fought her useless fight.
He was tireless, his hands delivering relentless punishment she didn’t deserve but had to tolerate. The longer he spanked her, the more she accepted what he was doing.
Bottom line—he was in control. He’d punish her for as long and in every way he wanted.
Fire! All-consuming fire. Body flying apart, splintering, shredding.
Wonderfully so.
He rammed first one leg then the other between hers, forcing her to widen her stance as much as the nylon roping her thighs allowed. When he stopped spanking her and clamped his powerful fingers over her ass cheeks, her back ached.
“Stay with the sensations.” He squeezed the inflamed flesh. “Feel it everywhere.”
Of course she did. It wasn’t as if she had a choice—or wanted anything else.
Her clamped buttocks belonged to him, acted as a conduit to every part of her but, mostly, her mind. The longer he held her in this strange new way, the harder it was to remember she was a separate human being. She wasn’t in over her head as much as trapped in a new experience.
“I could fuck you just like this,” he informed her. “Wait. Let me rephrase that. I will fuck you, but only when you beg me to.”
‘Beg’? Maybe. Anything was possible.
“Maybe you’re trying to figure out how to tell me to go to hell and make it stand for something. Is that what you’re doing?”
This man who’d upended her world was asking a question, but how to answer?
“Opportunity lost.”
Wait! He hadn’t given her enough time.
She was still trying to pull her thoughts together when he released her throbbing buttocks. Undoubtedly, he’d left indentations on her soft flesh.
“Time for a lesson in what happens to slaves who can’t keep up with the program. Hopefully, this will impress you with the importance of putting my wishes first. If it doesn’t, I’ll design something else.”
Threat or promise? If only she dared ask.
A clicking from behind her sent her heart into overdrive. She tried to tell herself he was deliberately testing her sanity, but what good did it do when he was a master at it? Her already taut panties pressed even tighter against her thighs.
“What—?” she started.
“Shut up.” He jerked on the nylon. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
What did he mean? He might, occasionally, offer an explanation but mostly he expected her to learn from experience. She’d bury herself in her education and become an expert in a something she only dimly grasped.
The clicking repeated. She concentrated on trying to make sense of it, but by the time she realized he’d been opening and closing the scissors, he’d started attacking her panties. He severed them as he had her shorts and pulled the worthless fabric off her. She thought he’d loop it over the back of her neck like before. Instead, he grabbed a hank of her hair and lifted her head.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered. “I’m going to gag you.”
Wait! she nearly yelled. If he did, she wouldn’t be able to call for help.
Silenced, she’d have no choice but to take the next step.
Chapter Eight
Not waiting to see if she’d obey, the man pressed the sex-juice-scented panties against her lips. Distracted by the pain in her scalp, she opened her mouth. He filled it with nylon then let go of her hair.
Her head dropped and she focused on trying to swallow around the wad. She could’ve spat it out, but he’d have shoved it back in and maybe run tape over her lips. She’d complied, not because she wanted to be silenced, maybe, but this way she could scream into the gag if things became more than she could handle.
She’d been mugged several years before. The bastard who’d knocked her down had gotten away with her purse and less than twenty dollars. He’s also left her with bruises, plus a fear of being caught unawares she hadn’t completely gotten over.
This was much worse so why wasn’t she afraid?
Why did she want to see what he had in mind for her first lesson?
“You will remain in this position while I gather what I need.” He punctuated his command by swatting the backs of both thighs. Her pussy clenched.
It took a moment for her to realize he’d left her. At first, she couldn’t think beyond the delicious warmth inside her but, as the seconds stretched out, her awareness of the rest of her body increased. She was still dressed—at least she was on top. In telling contrast, he’d stripped off everything except her sandals from the waist down. Her buttocks still burned. When she replayed what he’d done to make them feel that way, her muscles tightened again.
She didn’t want to be positioned like this, damn it. What self-respecting woman would want her pale, naked ass waving in the air? If anyone came in, they’d see her reddened buttocks and spread legs. More telling, her cunt was on display.
Juices trickling down the insides of her thighs.
Groaning into the gag that carried the taste of her arousal, she acknowledged she was turned on.
Eager for his return.
Needing his cock inside her.
He grabbed her left ankle, lifted her leg and pulled off her sandal. She told herself she wanted nothing to do with this.
Wanted the hell out.
After removing her other sandal, he kicked at the insides of both ankles, forcing her to open her stance even more. She never shaved her pussy hair, in part because she had so little of it. It seemed like too much work, and she didn’t want her infrequent sex partners jumping to any conclusions.
What did Master think of what he was seeing?
Maybe he’d demand she denude herself there.
Maybe he’d do the job.
An image of her sprawled and restrained on a medical examination table while he approached with a safety razor stripped some of the air from the room. She hadn’t really meant it when she’d called him ‘Master’. Now, it was too late to take back the word.
Maybe it was the truth—would become her reality.
After depositing something on the bed near her hips, he took hold of them and drew her toward him until her legs dangled and her feet brushed the floor. Without his legs bracing her, she’d slide off.
“What brought you here?” He ground something—it felt like his knee—against her crotch. “You can’t answer, so it’s up to me to figure it out. Hell.” His breath escaped in a rush. “Hell, I don’t know what compels me to do some of the things I do, so how can I—? Someone on the outside knows you’re here. You aren’t stupid enough to turn yourself over to MSDB without having a safety net. What is it, a time limit? You’ve told your contact to call the cops if you don’t return in X number of hours?”
She couldn’t focus on what he was saying, not with his knee grinding against her over-sensitive flesh.
“Hopefully, you’re sma
rt enough to see the flaw in that.” He slid both hands under her top. His thumbs settled over her spine. “Where will your friend tell the cops to look? It’ll take them a long time to search all the islands. MSDB has set up a number of systems to ensure—never mind.”
No, not ‘never mind’. She needed to hear more about those systems.
As if he’d tell her.
“Have you ever seen a horse being broken?” His thumbs began a slow march up and down her spinal column. “There are several ways of doing it, some traumatic for the animal, some gentle. The end result is basically the same, an animal ready for human use.”
Was he saying he intended to break her? That wasn’t right. She hadn’t come here to—
“Some trainers don’t care what the experience is like for the animal, but I need to. I must…”
His touch was softening her, taking her to a place she’d never been. His heartbeat pulsed in his thumbs, left him and entered her backbone. It didn’t matter that she knew nothing about him. Let him liken her to a bronc. As long as his life force continued its slow slide into her, she—what?
Her panties seemed to be swelling. If that continued, she’d gag on them. Determined to take her thoughts back to what this domineering man was doing to her, she worked a little of the fabric out of her mouth. Hopefully, with her head down, he wouldn’t see what she’d done.
Wouldn’t disapprove or think he needed to punish her.
“It’s complex.” He’d been silent long enough that his voice caught her off balance. “Multi-layered when I need it simple.”
He planted his palms over her shoulder blades and pressed down, sealing her to the bed. Her bounds arms were deeply bent, her bare legs spread wide.
“MSDB rules stipulate that the client’s needs come first.” He grunted. “Everything for the paying customer. Nothing for the man who makes the experience possible.”