Honeymoon In Bondage

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Honeymoon In Bondage Page 2

by Lizbeth Dusseau


  “And I will make this up to you,” he went on. “There will be a honeymoon, I swear. As soon as the mess at work clears up – it may be a few months, certainly not until the spring, but for every day until then we will celebrate being married. We can do that much.” He cradled her neck in his hand and kissed her passionately on the mouth. She gave back as best she could while still tightly bound.

  “I love you, Captain Danvers.”

  “And I love you, Meri.”

  “So, do you suppose, sir,” she spoke very sweetly, “that you could untie me now?”

  “Why? This uncomfortable?” he quizzed her, smirking light-heartedly.

  She nodded.

  He reached around and loosened the rope harness until her hands released, pulling free of the straining bondage. However, her wrists remained bound together.

  She briefly tried to jerk them apart, then asked: “Sir, please?”

  “Maybe I’d rather have you bound all night.”

  “This is the last night of our honeymoon. It’s hard to love you with my hands tied. And I really want to hold you.”

  She was wearing him down. She often did. The innocent eyes, the impish smile, the sweetness of her beauty; it was tough to still be mad at her.

  “You know, Meri, as long as you say things like that, I’m going to have one hell of a time being your master.”

  “Really?” He was already freeing her hands, which made her giggle under her breath.

  “Don’t go expecting me to be so nice all the time. You’ve earned a lot more than you got tonight. A little more redemption is in order. I’ll be nice now, but consider the next few months a honeymoon in bondage – every minute of it, until I can finally take you on a proper honeymoon. By then, you will have earned it.

  She giggled again and snuggled into his arms. They wrapped her tight and held her close, while her hands moved over his warm flesh. Kissing was pure joy. The lust would build during the night and they’d make love again, but for the moment, their world had been patched up, a little bit repaired – at least enough to bring them home where the challenge of their new life would really begin.

  He wasn’t lying when he told her that her submissive training would begin again. Before she put on her clothes the next morning, preparing for their flight home, he dressed her in a tight-fitting harness of rope that she would wear under her clothes. It thread right through her crotch, and pulled with every move she made, as if his firm hand were touching her every minute in a constant reminder of her submission.

  Chapter Two

  Dodging Bullets

  “On your back, Meredith, against the bench!” Alain’s voice rifled through the steamy air of his garage/workshop, while the sultry beauty clung to the orange, plastic chair. She was naked except for the tall high heels, her sultry beingness teetering on the edge of defiance and submission.

  Unflinching, Alain met her gaze with his imperious one. Looking on was his friend from the police force, Robbie Carvello.

  “You’re my toy, just like this car,” Alain added with a dismissive air, comparing his wife to the vintage black Packard currently sitting covered by a protective tarp just feet away. He knew his curt language sent a thrill through her sex-hungry body that, despite her fears, touched a longing ache deep within her loins.

  “Alain?” her soft voice appealed to his kinder side.

  But kindness was not what she really wanted nor what he would give her.

  “On the workbench now. This is where I tinker with my toys and it’s your turn now.”

  A small sigh escaped her lips, then she took a deep breath and obeying her husband’s command, she stepped lightly from the chair and walked with a tentative yet graceful gait toward the bench.

  She recalled how the evening began…it was one already full of surprises; even now she had no idea what Alain planned to do, and why. But she’d clearly been driven toward surrender as each significant interaction took her one step closer to the present moment…

  It was late January, a Friday evening, Alain had walked through the front door while Meredith was still painting at her easel in the studio just off the kitchen. In the back of her mind, she recognized the familiar sounds of Alain’s arrival, and probably would have ignored him for the moment since she was so engrossed in her painting. But there were voices, unexpected voices. She immediately realized that something was wrong—had she forgotten something important? She ran for the door and looked into the hall, seeing Alain with Robbie Carvello, hanging their overcoats on the hall coat rack.

  “Oh, my god!” she gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth.

  “Meri?” Alain looked at her strangely.

  A vivid recollection like some deep and terrifying force caused her to step back. “I-I forgot…” she started with a breathless whisper then abruptly stopped.

  “…That you were cooking dinner tonight for Robbie and me?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sorry,” she rushed in to apologize. “I got all involved in my work and the idea of it just flew right out of my brain. I’m a witless wonder, Alain. I’m so sorry. Let me make something quick…I’m sure there’s something I can fix…”

  “Meri, stop,” Alain’s calming voice reached out to halt the rambling discourse.

  “Yes, sir?”

  She suddenly stood up straight, in proper form as she’d been taught, while Alain took a moment to appraise her. His clear blue eyes were a bit cold but nothing that she wasn’t used to.

  “Since you’re not ready, let’s not bother with dinner here, Meri, we’ll go out. You have five minutes to get dressed—go on now.”

  She hesitated a moment then started toward the stairs with every intention of racing away, having figured that she’d somehow dodged a bullet this time.

  But then her husband’s voice leapt up and grabbed her back. “Meri.” Not terse, his tone was utterly calm. He didn’t like to raise his voice and she knew that very well.

  She turned, “Yes, sir?”

  “Your overalls.” He nodded to the only garment she had on. For a split second she looked at Robbie Carvello whose eyes were as fixed on her as her husbands’ were.

  “Yes, sir.” She slowly moved back down the stairs and toward the hall.

  “You can drop them right there,” Alain added before she could disappear into the privacy of her studio. She knew very well that the paint-covered overalls were not allowed anywhere in the house but her studio.

  She stopped with her backside still facing the two men, hesitated just briefly, then fiddled with the clasps of the overalls and let them drop to her feet. The elegant lines of her backside came into view, everything from the youthful muscles in her shoulders to her tight waist, her rounded ass and long, lovely legs.

  “Now turn around,” her husband instructed.

  Trembling with embarrassment, she finally turned back, giving both men a 360 degree view of her body. Alain nodded. And looking completely frightened by the revealing display, Meredith suddenly tore off up the stairs, refusing to hear another command – if there had been one. There was not.

  “You sure nabbed a beauty!” Robbie commented when she was out of hearing distance. Robbie Carvello was a smaller man than Alain. Dark hair, dark complexion – probably of Southern European origin – cocky and handsome with a keen wit and sharp, excited eyes. He had just one brief moment to view his colleague’s naked wife, but he’d seen all he needed to appreciate the young woman’s physical assets. She was a looker in his book. Sometimes there were big payoffs sharing a few sexual kinks with a friend like Alain Danvers. This was obviously one. The two men went back a long way…through quite a few years when it was Robbie supplying sub females to tantalize his friend. But this time, Alain had really hit the jackpot. And married too! Robbie wondered how a man as closed with his emotions could manage to draw in a gorgeous female like Meredith Shaw – Meredith Danvers now. “So, you’re going to let her off the hook that easy, huh?” he wondered. They both were still staring at the empty staircase. �
��I mean you promised me a home-cooked meal. Not a good showing for a sub in training,” he feigned his indignation.

  Alain turned to his friend, “You mean am I going to punish her for not having dinner on the table as planned? Trust me, you didn’t miss much,” he wryly commented on his wife’s cooking skills. “We’ll just play this by ear. There’s plenty going down tonight that will have those pretty feet quaking in her shoes. She’s got more on her plate than she knows.” He smiled, self-satisfied. “Besides, she can suffer all evening long wondering if I’m really letting her off the hook.”

  Robbie appreciated that kind of quiet sadism, shaking his head. “You are one sorry bastard, Danvers.”

  Alain sighed. “I didn’t used to be…or at least I wasn’t for a long time. But to have those desires conjured up now by my wife, I’m feeling rather lucky.”

  Meri wasn’t even a second late coming down dressed for dinner. If Alain said five minutes, he didn’t mean even ten measly seconds longer. A comb through her hair, a small black sheath and nothing else but a pair of four inch heels and she was ready. She even had enough time to freshen her breath with a swish of mouthwash, paint a fresh outline around her eyes and dust on some shadow. She stuffed her earrings and lipstick into her purse for the drive to the restaurant.

  “You look beautiful,” Alain greeted her as she moved down the staircase a transformed woman. Elegant and sophisticated. Everything that she wasn’t in her overalls.

  “Thank you, Alain,” she took his hand and kissed his mouth very lightly, then walked out the door and to the street where she took a seat in the back of the car. Meri furtively finished her primping there, while Robbie and Alain rode up front and talked the whole time about work. Pulling up to the curb in front of the restaurant, Robbie jumped out and graciously opened the door. He gave the new Mrs. Danvers one more long glance as she exited the car, seeing her long, shapely legs appear before his voyeuring eyes. Just fuel to inspire him later that evening, he thought, as he politely nodded to Alain’s wife.

  Dinner at the neighborhood bistro was excellent as usual. The wine was superb. The conversation easy. Meri was almost free from anxiety, which was rare for her under such circumstances: being out for an evening with two cagey male dominants. However, even though the two men had put her at ease, there was the persistent nagging thought that this evening was just way too easy.

  “So, Alain, you going to let me see that old car of yours?” Robbie asked, changing the discussion from the latest movie releases to something closer to home.

  “Hardly much to look at. I’ve hardly had time.”

  “But still, I haven’t seen it in over a year…you were working devilishly on it last winter.”

  “I was.” The vintage Packard was his one hobby other than kinky sex, but Meredith’s presence in his life had pushed his other passion on the back burner for many months.

  Later, when the threesome arrived back at the house, Alain sent Meredith to get their drinks, while he and Robbie went to the garage workshop where the Packard was stored. Alain pulled back the canvas to reveal the shiny black exterior. Not a speck of dust. It gleamed so bright that Robbie could see his face in the well-buffed shine.

  “Wow! What do you mean there’s not much to look at? You nearly have it done, Alain. Isn’t it time to finish it off so you can ride around town looking like the haughty bastard you are?” He poked him in the ribs with an elbow.

  Alain looked fondly at the car, “Maybe before the winter is over. There’s still quite a bit of work to do on the engine. I want her purring like the fine machine she is.”

  “Hello there!” Meredith was at the door with a cheery smile, bearing a small tray with two Scotch on the rocks.

  “Thank you, darling.” Alain greeted his wife with a generous smile, took his drink and handed the other to Robbie.

  “Oh my, Alain, you’ve never shown me!” Meredith walked around the vehicle with a look of childlike shock. She reached out, but then abruptly pulled her hand back, afraid to even touch it. “This is beautiful! I didn’t know. Can we take a ride? Please?” She looked up hopefully.

  “If the engine were running I’d say yes, but it will be a bit yet.”

  “Oh, dear. You’ve never said a thing about it to me.”

  “I haven’t had the time,” he smiled, giving her a wink. He moved in to spread the tarp back over his prize toy.

  “I take up all your time, don’t I?” Meredith purred, as she snuggled into his side.

  “It’s a worthy pastime,” he said, pleasantly. But something about the way he viewed her now signaled a shift in their previously jovial evening. For a moment the husband and wife seemed locked in their own private world. Though nothing was specifically said to alter the mood, the cool air in the workshop seemed to heat fast.

  When Robbie picked up on the change, he finally broke the silence. “So, what do you say, Alain? The workbench good enough?”

  Alain withdrew from his wife and considered the long, sturdy workbench that sat between the Packard and the workshop’s far wall.

  Meri looked a little flustered, then a shudder of fear swept through her like a bolt of lightning. For the first time, perhaps, she gave her husband’s workshop a quick once over, no doubt looking for some clue that might tell her what came next. There were no tools of the sadist’s trade hanging right out in the open, so it appeared that this wasn’t another dungeon – Alain had a perfectly good one in the basement of the house if he wanted her in that kind of way. Still, there was a strangely ominous feeling working its way to her clattering bones. “Is this…?” she started and stopped. Her heart began to thump so madly that she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t stop the feeling that she was about to be punished for her unfortunate lapse of memory. It wasn’t like Alain to forget any slight on her part – she was being trained, he often repeated to her when she wondered why he had to be so rigorous in his demand for her obedience. “Alain…” her small voice tried again.

  “This shouldn’t be that hard, Meri. Robbie has already seen you naked once,” he came back calmly.

  “What shouldn’t be all that hard?” Her raspy voice was barely above a whisper. When his hand reached out to her, his touch felt like fire against her skin. She was too petrified to object as he moved in close and reached to the hem of the black dress. He pulled it up, and finally flung it off over her head, then tossed it to the concrete floor.

  “Let her keep the heels, they’ll be a nice touch,” Robbie suggested.

  “A nice touch for what?” she blurted out.

  “Shush…” Alain hushed her with two fingers pressed against her rose red lips. “Now’s the time to pretend that you’re the perfect submissive. Show me how you’ve learned to surrender. Go down deep inside and find the acquiescence to get you through the next few minutes.”

  “Few minutes of what!” she blurted, hardly calmed at all.

  “Hush!” his voice came on stronger. “Did you listen to what I said? You didn’t, did you? Now, go climb up on that chair while Robbie’s getting the equipment ready.”

  Equipment! She sought out the old plastic chair for the scant support it afforded, and watched in dread while Robbie dug into a black bag he’d brought with him. She was unable to see what he laid out on an adjacent table – maybe she didn’t want to. But when he snapped a pair of latex gloves over his hands, she almost fell off her shaky perch.

  Alain reached out to steady her, and for a moment stroked her back affectionately. When he let go, he stepped away and assumed his firmer guise. He knew that in his wife’s flagrant imagination, a nightmare’s worth of horrors were already taking place.

  Finally, when Robbie laid a towel on one end of the workbench and nodded at his friend, Alain set the scheme in motion…

  “On your back, Meredith, against the bench!”…and the die had been cast.

  Lying back against the hard wood, Meredith focused on the present moment with continuing trepidation.

  A toy? he’d said. Like the Pac
kard beside her. To be tinkered with…

  “Alain…” she mouthed his name, but no sound came out.

  While she suffered, her husband worked efficiently. He’d taken off his suit coat and was busily pulling her arms up over her head, tying her wrists together and then anchoring the ropes at the base of the table. Her long legs dangled down at the other end – of course there was nowhere else to put them, which made the position uncomfortably strained. Her breath was short, her body heaving with anxiety, but the rush of excitement the situation produced turned her nervous jitters into something dreadfully erotic. Already she could smell the fragrance of her sex wafting through the open air. Any touch against her crotch would have been like an electric shock and she might have spontaneously erupted into an orgasm. She wasn’t that lucky.

  When Alain finally moved to the far end of the bench, he grabbed her legs by the knees and pushed them back, spreading them to expose her crotch – from the bud of her clitoris to the tight rosette of her anus.

  “Alain, please!” She was about to cry, but he silenced her quickly.

  “Meredith! Your surrender is your gift to me. I thought you would handle this better.”

  The subtle admonishment seemed to strike her where it was most effective, easing her moment of panic just as it was intended to do.

  While Robbie waited on the sidelines, Alain began to bind her legs to the workbench so she could maintain the legs splayed position without a strain. Finally, he moved to her side and forced her frightened eyes on his. He placed his palm against her cheek, giving it a soft smack.

  “Oh, I wish you’d punished me right then. It would be all over now,” she cried.

  “If you think this is about dinner, it’s not. It was all planned weeks ago.”

  “What was planned?”

  “The piercing.”

  “Piercing!”

  “Shush.” He moved his hand to her belly and pressed there. “Look at me, Meri. Look in my eyes. When I claim you are my toy, my trinket, I mean that. Your body belongs to me. Or did you forget your vows?”

 

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