by Sam Crescent
He’d relished the fear on her face when he’d brought out the rope and taken her to the basement that time. When he wasn’t at work, he’d keep her tied to the bed for as long as possible—sometimes the entire three days from Friday evening to Monday morning.
She saw all these harsh punishments that could be administered with her strapped to the device, but with Harry’s arms around her she didn’t need to worry. He would keep her safe and she trusted him with more than her body. Harry was the type of man she could trust with her heart and mind.
Taking a breath, she pulled away and stared at him. He truly was an amazing man, and he cared for her. She could see it and feel it with every move and touch. There was nothing cruel about his domination, and seeing this, knowing this, made her want to be the perfect submissive for him.
It was another barrier to break down, to overcome, and then she would see the power of being with a man who truly cared about her.
“I’m ready to go back in,” she said.
Harry didn’t move but watched her. “Are you sure about this?”
“I trust you, Harry. This is about us, not the device and not…and not him. I want to do this and prove to myself the fucking bastard could rot in hell for all I care. I want to be with you every step of the way.” She took another breath, knowing she was rambling on.
“I don’t want you to think you have to do anything you don’t want to, Ruby.”
“I understand, and besides, I’ve always got butter if I want you to stop at any time.”
They both smiled and Harry pulled her against him again, kissing her lips.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said.
She nodded. “Because of you I’m starting to think it. Maybe one day I might believe it too.”
Harry got her to strip naked and then helped her back into the cage, removing his pristine white shirt in the process. He looked like some Greek god in his black trousers, his defined chest muscles highlighted with every turn under the soft light. Ruby was already wet just from looking at the perfection of his partially naked form. No man should look that good.
He took her hands first, staring into her eyes as he cuffed first one wrist then the other, testing the give of the straps. He kissed her again after the second strap fit snugly.
“You look so beautiful, naked and bound.”
With the way he was staring, she felt fucking beautiful. She bowed her head in subservience and watched him go to his knees and take first one foot then the other until she was strapped in place, awaiting whatever pleasure or punishment he chose to give.
“From now on, in here you’ll call me Sir or Master. Any other name will result in a punishment, do I make myself clear?”
Her pussy quivered with excitement, his demands making her hot and horny.
“Yes…Sir.”
Ruby wanted to see him lose control, to see what happened when the true Master in him took over. But she waited—this was still new territory to her.
Master would have punished her severely by now.
Harry went to the closet outside the cage and pulled out a whip, some gel and a few other little toys and trinkets. He returned to her and dribbled the lotion on his hands. Starting from the bottom up, he rubbed her skin, massaging. She moaned as each muscle was stimulated by his careful attention, her cream dampening the inside of her thighs as he moved further up her leg.
“You’re already dripping wet for me, little sub. Do you like what I’m doing?”
I fucking love it.
“Yes, Sir,” she panted out, her head suddenly heavy and her limbs needing the tightness of the straps to keep her upright.
Once he was done with her legs, he moved up her body, bypassing her cunt, which so needed his careful devotion. She moaned in frustration. She wanted his fingers in her slit and would do anything for him to stop the burning ache deep inside.
Instead, he continued on, chuckling, hands on her belly then skating up her ribs and petting her breasts. Her nipples were erect and pulsing, his touch making her wince from the intense pleasure.
“You’re so responsive.”
Ruby couldn’t even drum up a comeback. Her body was on fire with demanding need, all from a simple massage. It was embarrassing and stimulating at the same time.
Harry knew how to work her body to make her crave his touch—and oh, the delightfully wicked possibilities he could create…
Without the fear of the unknown, she was able to immerse herself in the moment and trust what was about to happen. Harry didn’t treat her as a piece of meat but as a person.
“Now, sub, I think I should have a little taste of you.”
He nipped her mouth playfully and Ruby opened up for him. He plunged his tongue inside and finally touched her creamy cunt. She groaned, trying to thrust her hips towards him but with him pressed against her, she met with the back of the cage. The ability to use all parts of the body in here was hindered by the cage’s rear. She supposed if Harry wanted to punish her on the arse he could unstrap her and turn her around.
“Ruby, you’re dripping onto my fingers.” He teased her open and inserted a finger into her warmth.
She so wanted to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her but her bound hands prevented it.
“I could play with you all night, sub.”
Ruby whimpered when he fingered her clit. She really could give this man anything he desired. She loved him so fucking much already. Love—absolutely, completely and without a shadow of a doubt. Other people needed time to analyse their feelings or to come to terms with a change of relationship, but Ruby trusted her head and body, and most importantly, she trusted her heart.
Harry was the one for her.
The newfound knowledge allowed her to open up and give herself over to the lust and fire Harry caused.
A buzzer sounded on the door, interrupting their play.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Harry cursed quietly. “I don’t know, but they’d better have a good excuse.”
She loved being his, being wanted by him. He kissed her again before going to the little intercom on the wall beside the main door.
“What?” he snapped. “I hope you know it’s against the rules to interrupt a high-ranking member’s dungeon time unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
He sounded so smart and clever.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” came a nervous female voice, “but there’s been an urgent call placed through to your number. The one that states we must disturb you.”
Ruby sighed.
“Give me a minute.” He shut the intercom off and came over to her. “I’ve got to go and answer this call. I won’t be a moment, but the door will be locked and no one can get in besides me. I’ll take you down so you can get a drink from the cabinet over there while I’m gone.” He moved to untie the cuffs.
“You won’t be long, and like you said, no one can get in. I trust you, Harry. I’ll be fine here. Leave me tied.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re wasting time.” She laughed.
Harry kissed her lips and then left her. She watched him go and heard the lock connecting.
I’m really doing this. I’m in love with Harry Knowles.
She giggled, so happy and contented. Finally she could give someone her love and not be terrified of having them smash her heart.
When they went back to his house, she’d tell him her real name. Margaret Savage. She cringed. Maybe she could get it changed legally.
The lock clicked back on the main door and she smiled, looking up, excited to continue their scene.
Ruby froze, her body tightening. Fear consumed her.
It wasn’t Harry at all.
“Hello, Margaret.”
Chapter Twelve
Master stared at Margaret, narrowing his eyes at the way she’d been bound. Knowles hadn’t taken advantage of the built-in chastity-like belt attached to the rear bars—one that had a hole for easy cock or toy insert
ion. It hung there beside her, useless.
What an utter waste of a good thing.
He gave her face his full attention while letting the door snap closed behind him, enjoying the sound it made. He fancied it was one of finality, a no-going-back-now click that signified his plan nearly coming to fruition. How he’d longed for this night, finding her here and letting her know she couldn’t just walk away from him any time she chose. The days since she’d been gone had been long and annoying. Boring without her to torment. Well, she’d be gone no more.
He had limited time in which to slap her about a bit before releasing her, then getting her out of here and back to his house where she belonged.
Where she’d stay until he tired of her.
But maybe he wouldn’t get tired. Maybe keeping her where he had in mind would amuse him for the rest of his life. Fuck, he could take on another sub and neither woman would know of the other’s existence. He could strap the new one to the equipment he’d set up in the spare room once it arrived. He’d ordered a duplicate device for his home, and this time he’d paid extra to ensure the shop owner himself delivered it, snow or not. He’d also made it clear he wasn’t going to be fucked about on this occasion. The other sub, Ruby, would be…there—out of sight, out of earshot, but close enough he could go to her when the fancy took him.
She glared back at him—yes, glared, the cheeky bitch—her initial fright gone now. If he was a good judge he’d say she was angry, indignant that he’d walked in and found her here.
Knowles had done quite a bit of damage, undoing Master’s hard work.
Bastard.
Master lifted one hand to his chin and pinched it lightly, more to give her the idea he was amused by her anger than anything else. And it was no matter, really, her change in attitude. He’d enjoy re-teaching her all over again.
A knife and a threat or two worked wonders on some people.
“Harry will be back in a minute, you know,” Margaret said.
Her facial expression was so smug he had to rein in the desire to go inside that cage and slap her cheek. But no, he couldn’t do that. A handprint wouldn’t look particularly fetching when they casually strode through the lobby on their way out—and it would be a casual stride. He’d make sure she understood the consequences if she didn’t leave quietly and with a smile.
“I’m aware of that, Margaret, but I’ve made sure I have enough time to get us reacquainted before we leave.”
“Fucked if I’m leaving with you,” she snapped, clenching her fists.
“Well, now. Who went and ruined your manners? Let me guess…”
“No one ruined them—they were always like this until I met you.”
She tipped her chin and continued to stare. She was a feisty one, he’d give her that. But feisty wasn’t how he wanted her to be, how she shouldn’t be, and over the coming week—because it would only take him a week to punish the belligerence out of her—she’d be back to normal.
Oh yes.
He sighed and walked into the cage. “It really doesn’t become you, to be so brazen. It makes you look common.”
“I am fucking common!” she shouted, cheeks reddening, eyes blazing. “And I’m proud of who I am. I shouldn’t have to change to be what other people want. You should have accepted me as I was. Changing me the way you did… Shit, you’re just a control freak, I see that now. You chose me, didn’t you? Chose me because you knew I’d be easily manipulated.” She laughed, a guttural, low chortle. “But not anymore. God, no. You’ll never get to me like that again.”
He eyed her for a few moments, hiding his insistent need to take one step forward and wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze until her eyes bulged. She really was tiresome with her self-importance, and if he allowed her to annoy him much more he’d hurt her here—now.
That wasn’t an option.
I must stick to the plan. She’s uncouth again, has the idea she’s got choices, but that’s quite all right. Nothing I can’t solve.
He raised one hand and stroked her cheek, gratified to see she was unable to hide a flinch. Beneath that bravado she was still afraid of him, then.
Good.
“You know,” he said, thumbing her lips, “you look delightful trussed up like this. The only thing that would make this scene perfect is if you had the belt on. I’m surprised Knowles didn’t strap you up with it. Surprised he didn’t fuck you while you couldn’t move anything except your hands, feet and head. And look”—he rattled a band of leather attached to a rear bar by a chain—“this would have stopped the head movements.” His cock hardened. “Totally at one’s mercy…”
Her jaw muscles pulsed and her breathing grew heavier. He leant forwards to sniff her, smelling strange bathing aromas and…Knowles.
That just wouldn’t do.
He took two steps back and punched her in the stomach, loving the way she automatically tried to bring herself into a ball and failing. Loving the strangled grunt that left her pretty little mouth. Loving, loving, loving the way she had a touch of the old Margaret in her eyes as she looked at him—eyebrows raised, eyes wide and brimming with the usual boring question—why?
Satisfaction streamed through him, and his cock ached. “Now that you understand we’re completely back to normal, I’m going to release you, Margaret. Before I do, though, there are certain rules. You must obey them. If you don’t, there won’t only be consequences for you regarding punishment.”
“Fuck you!” She spat in his face. “Fuck you and the scabby horse you rode in on, arsehole!”
Oh dear. This is an…unfortunate turn of events.
He wiped her spittle from his cheek with his sleeve. Sighed. Fisted his hands and resisted thumping her in the stomach again. He so wanted to hear that pained grunt…
“Let me explain this a little better, Margaret, hmmm? I’m going to release you, and you’re going to get dressed very quickly. We’re going to leave this room—you’ll be handcuffed to me—and you’re going to smile and walk beside me as though you’re happy. We’re going to exit this building and get into my car—”
“I’m not going with you. Harry will be here in a minute and—”
“Harry will not be here in a minute!” he roared into her face. “Harry is…detained. If you don’t leave with me in the way I’ve described, he’ll be detained permanently. Do I make myself clear?”
She gasped and finally, finally tugged at the binds.
Achilles heel. Marvellous!
“What have you done to him? Where is he?”
“You needn’t concern yourself with trifling details.”
He released one wrist and one ankle, then grabbed her free arm while he took care of the other ankle restraint. Pressing against her to keep her from struggling or lashing out, he undid the last manacle. He stepped back and dragged her to her clothing, standing over her as she dressed, amused that she kept glancing at the door.
“Believe me, he’s not coming, Margaret. Now hurry up before I lose my temper.”
He kicked her calf and she stumbled but made no sound.
A pity…
She made short work of dressing then, and once finished stood in front of him with her arm out for him to snap on the cuffs. At last, she was seeing sense.
“I’m not doing this because I’m obeying you like I did before,” she said. “I’m doing it for Harry.”
“Oh, how delightfully sweet. Margaret is in love.” He yanked her towards the door. “Just so we’re clear before I open this door… If you call out, look at anyone with an expression that makes it clear you’re not happy, or you mess me around while in this building, Harry will stop breathing. Understand?”
She nodded, her face paling.
Master sighed. She really had lost her manners.
He took a good amount of flesh on her upper arm between his finger and thumb and pinched. “I said, understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” She winced.
“It hurt to say that, didn’t it?”
Bitch.
He opened the door and escorted her down into the lobby, watching her in his peripheral. She smiled over-brightly, and one or two people sitting on the sofas glanced their way, some with heads cocked in silent question as to what Margaret was doing with him, others with grins, completely unaware she had arrived with Knowles. The former didn’t bother him if they thought to alert Knowles of their leaving. Master would have Margaret right where he wanted her at his place long before Knowles got a whiff of his sub being taken.
His sub? Mine. Mine!
They breezed past the receptionist and went outside, Margaret sucking in a breath—the shock of the cold, he supposed. Once out of sight of the club entrance, Master took her around the corner into the car park, roughly shepherding her to his vehicle. He pressed her inside with his hand on her head, treating her like the criminal she was. She’d broken the law, his law, and she’d now have to pay the price and do the time.
Chuckling at his thoughts, he unlocked the cuff on his wrist and secured her to the handle on the inside of the door. He’d anticipated her clawing at his face with her free hand as he strapped her in, but she remained still, gaze fixed out the windshield.
He locked her inside and walked around to get in himself. The engine purred to life, and Master imagined Margaret’s reaction when she realised where she would be doing her penance. She hated the room underground, the one he’d built himself below his back garden, even though she’d only been in there once and for an hour or so.
This time she’d be in there a damn sight longer.
He drove, mind on the next phase of his plan, a part of him vigilant to any tricks she might decide to pull while on their journey. He needn’t have worried. She sat like a good girl the whole way home, dry-eyed and silent. He noted goosebumps on her arms—he hadn’t bothered putting on the heater—and saw her quivering chin as she trembled. From the cold or fear?
Either way he didn’t care. Her feelings no longer came into it, and when he thought about it, they hadn’t before either. Why should they? She was his to do with as he wished and no one would convince him otherwise. He laughed at that—a wonderful belly laugh that cleansed him, eased out the kinks in his muscles and smoothed the jagged edges of his nerves.