Marketplace

by Laura Antoniou

  “I’m going to do something very different with you tonight,” she said, her voice now coming from the direction of his feet. “There will be no protests from you, and you will strive to please me in all ways. Those are your only instructions.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  She began by putting wide, flat clamps on his nipples, compressing them into little erections on his chest. A line of clips led from each one, trailing down his chest and across his stomach. He drew in harsh breaths whenever she added a new one, and lost count at about thirty. They began to appear on his arms and legs, and one line of them was planted just above his hairline, digging into the flesh above his groin. The last set of them was buried around his cock and balls, with five of them gathering up the loose flesh on the underside of his cock.

  The pinching sensation was unfamiliar but not frightening. Although he reacted to each placement, most of them were quite bearable, until the line of five on his cock. He shook when she put them in place.

  “You could fit eight or nine,” was her only comment.

  Robert could only nod and say, “Yes, ma’am,” and then shut up.

  She began to touch the pins, one at a time, alternating from one side of his body to another, first just tapping them, and then actually bending or twisting them. He moaned as she played with him, his fingers stretching out and then clenching into fists again, sighing when she left troublesome pins alone, grinding his teeth when she pinched them to make them tighter. Her tormenting was methodical in pace, but random in target site, and he squirmed a little. He gasped and jumped when she started to take them off.

  “That’s my big fella,” Alex said, giving one pin on his belly a hard twist as she pulled it off. “I like the way you’re taking this. Do you like the way it feels?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Good.” She continued to pluck them off. “Do you know how many you took, Robert?”

  “No, ma’am. Ah!” She had pulled off two at the same time.

  “Tsk, tsk. That’s not very attentive of you. I put fifty-five pins on you, and because you didn’t count them, I’m going to hit you fifty-five times when they’re off.” Two more, on his thigh, came off and he moaned.

  It seemed that “last on, last off” was the rule of the day, and the final five came off slowly, making blood rush into his cock at dizzying speeds. He thanked her, profusely, the same words over and over, stopping only when something light smacked against his tingling left nipple.

  “Fifty-five, Robert, keep count. By counting backwards.” She smacked him with the short, light whip one more time, and he cried out more in shock then in pain.

  In a low voice, he said, “Fifty-four, ma’am.”

  The whip had to be short, she seemed to be standing very close to him. It was tressed in leather that smacked with an almost elastic quality against his body. Even as he counted and she worked it over his torso and the fronts of his thighs, he felt his cock beginning to stand up again, and he gasped when she took casual swipes at it.

  “And how many are left?” she asked him from time to time.

  “Thirty-one, ma’am,” he answered, and then “Thirty,” when she landed one on his belly, and then later, “Twenty, ma’am!”, and so on.

  The whip left no marks on his body, but the ritual and the feeling of being beaten without the true sense of getting hurt, had worked magic on the bound man. His back was just a memory, lines of minor aching he dismissed at will. The bonds on his wrists and ankles were security for him, his mistress would not let him go, he was all hers. And as he finished the count, each magical number-word was a count down to something, if only his excellent completion of it by her command. The final blow, as he tremblingly voiced, “One, ma’am!” was gently draped across his face, the tresses trailing by his mouth so he could breath in the rich, smoky scent of them and kiss them as they moved across his cheeks.

  In the short silence that followed, he tried to find a better way of saying, “Thank you.”

  Then, he sensed movement above him, an adjusting of things around him. A pillow was placed under his head, tilting his neck a little more than he felt would be comfortable, but he kept silent. His silence was met with a rustling sound, and then a slight creak as Alex joined him on the table. She made herself comfortable, and his first realization of what she was doing hit him like the rush of good cocaine.

  She was kneeling above him, right above his face. Her pubic hair tickled his chin as she made herself more comfortable, and then rose up to offer her pussy to his lips.

  “Do what will please me,” she said softly. “Get in there and work at it. Show me how much you want to make me happy.”

  A long, body-length shiver of anticipation ran through Robert’s body, and he licked his lips. Gently, he kissed her, allowing his mouth to learn exactly where she was, how close, how far, and how open. To his searching mouth, she revealed that she too, had enjoyed the session with the pins, and he thanked her with warm, loving kisses at her center of pleasure, daring to lick carefully at the edges. Encouraged by her shifting agreeably, he began to explore her with his tongue and lips together, wetting her down and tasting of her wetness. He could barely hear her sigh above him, but what he heard was encouragement enough. He moved his head even closer, cursing his bonds for the first time, and then blessing them.

  He would have never had the courage to do this without them.

  Carefully, he took her pussy lips and bathed them in his tongue, and then dipped deeper into her to taste her again. Back and forth he went, until her juices and his melded and mixed all over her pussy and all over his mouth and chin. He extended his tongue further out to touch the hooded spot near the top of her cleft, and when she dipped lower, he concentrated there for a long time, washing it over with rhythmic strokes that made her fairly purr.

  That’s my man, she thought, arching up away from him and then settling back down. Oh, yes, that’s it. Nice and open, nice and wet, nice and easy. Oh, you know the secret here, big guy, just stick with what works and do it over and over again, until... ah, yes, that’s it! And that’s enough of that for now. Nearing her own pleasure, she denied it to him and pulled away. There was something else she had her eye on, and now was the time to get it.

  Robert gulped air, and moaned. But he didn’t know if he was moaning because of the sudden deprivation, or because of deep, sincere gratitude. He managed to gasp out, “Thank you, ma’am! Thank you so much!”

  “Oh, but it’s not over yet,” Alex assured him. He felt her touch the head of his cock and put something on it. Was it another torture device? He felt her fingers along the sides, rubbing him, no, pushing something down...

  She was covering his cock with a rubber. He began to shake, and she squeezed his erection in her hands as she unrolled the condom all the way to the base of his cock.

  “You’re going to keep it up until I get mine,” she said, maintaining her soft voice. “No protests, no failures.”

  And with that, she turned around, made herself comfortable again, and guided herself onto him. As she predicted when she first saw it, his big handsome cock filled her nicely, and sinking onto it made her feel like she was sitting on a fat, warm pole. She shifted for comfort and rose to accommodate more of him.

  Robert felt as though he could die, right now, of pleasure. It had been ages since his cock was in a woman like this, and he had almost forgotten what that felt like. The images and sensations that barreled into each other in his brain were of hot honey and velvet walls, smooth creams and warm towels. He shuddered and lifted his hips to meet her, and she rode him easily, shifting to give herself more pleasure and a better position to ride in.

  Before long, he was giving out little cries as she rose and fell, and those cries gave way to harsh gasps of breath when she rocked back and forth. Alexandra stroked herself, very turned on by the body and the thick cock of the man beneath her, and sighed as her body settled into a rhythm that would take her over the top.

  “That’s it
,” she murmured, thrusting her hips forward, “that’s it, such a good boy, keep it nice and hard, nice and fat, while I ride...”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he wrenched out, pulling against all his bonds now. “Oh, yes ma’am! Use me, ma’am!”

  Alex took one deep, rasping breath and then began to come. It started out feeling mild, the way it usually did, but she rode it until her hips thrust back into and onto him, and her entire body shook with the need for that final pleasure. Her breaths came in gasps, shaking her body from head to toe, as the quake of sensation erupted between her legs. She rode him as the steady contractions subsided a little, and noticed that he was still hard!

  He had not come.

  “Good boy,” she breathed softly, stroking his chest. Carefully, she rose off of him, hissing a little when he slid out of her, and then she got down from the table. As she stretched and looked at him, she saw that his teeth were still clenched tightly shut, probably his mechanism to keep from coming. Good boy, she thought. Very good.

  She hit the cuffs one after the other, releasing them. “When you’ve put the cuffs away and cleaned this place up a little, come to my room. If I’m already asleep, you’ll find your place at the foot of my bed.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered finally, not even knowing if she was still in the room. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Days passed, merging with each other. And Sharon and Brian became obsessed with Grendel‘s refusal to either use them sexually or even call them to serve him in the evening. Claudia and Robert tried to downplay their increased activities with Alexandra, so that they wouldn’t cause undue stress for their companions, but their repeated absences from the dorm made that impossible.

  It was even worse when Alexandra told both of her slave trainees that she expected to loan them to Grendel for some training of a different sort. They both kept that nugget of information to themselves.

  Brian recovered from his days as a pet and threw himself wholeheartedly into being a really good slave. He finished his tasks quickly and ran to Claudia for instructions for the next one. He kept his body scrupulously clean, and began to practice certain bows, genuflections, and postures when he was in the bathroom, so he could execute them in the best-looking way. When he was with Jack, he concentrated on giving nothing but world-class blowjobs, and eagerly assumed whatever strange position Jack dreamt up for him. One day, after a particularly long session involving spurs and a rubber bit, Jack laconically admitted that “You an’ th’ model are about neck ’n’ neck at th’ line for ’oo gives the best nut bathin’, but you’re a sweet one t’fuck, m’boy!”

  Claudia admitted that she really had no complaints about his performance and Chris could find nothing glaringly disappointing. He never had another “accident.” When they took away his cage and belt, he thought, “Now, maybe now!” But still, nothing happened.

  One late night, he got up out of bed to use the bathroom, padding down the hall in the dim light cast by various hallway fixtures. When he heard something clinking in the direction of the main hallway, he froze. At first, he thought he was hearing things. Who the hell would be walking around at some ungodly hour in this house? The owners were both early risers, and Chris, well, that guy just never slept...

  At that thought, Brian turned and went the other way down the hall, toward the big staircase and the main hall. He slipped down the stairs, toward the sound, and stopped cold when he almost ran into it. Or him. Because it was indeed Chris. A Chris he could never have imagined.

  The stocky majordomo was decked out in what the boys called “full leathers.” His regular work boots had been replaced with gleaming black engineer boots, one with a simple silver chain around the left ankle. Leather jeans rode on the boots, ending right above the ankle. Under that motorcycle jacket Brian remembered from Chris’s office, the man was wearing a crisp black shirt, crossed by a Sam Browne belt. Tight at his throat was a narrow black tie. Jammed on top of his short, thick hair was a black officer’s cap, the brim gleaming.

  Brian’s mouth went dry just before Chris caught him by the throat and pushed him violently against the wall.

  “Why the fuck are you out of bed?” he demanded, his voice very low. “What the hell are you doing down here?”

  “Please!” Brian choked. He clutched at the hands holding him.

  “Tell me!” Chris demanded, loosening his grip slightly.

  “I heard... I heard you from upstairs,” Brian said, after a cough. “I was going to the bathroom... I thought it might be... I thought I should invest...”

  “Who did you think it might be?” Chris pushed. “A burglar?”

  “No!” Brian shook his head. “I thought it might be you.”

  Chris let him go. “Idiot,” he spat. “Well, it’s me. Now go back to bed.”

  “But... wait...” Brian reached out and touched Chris’s jacket lightly. “Please...it’s been so long. Please, let me, just let me look...”

  Chris shook his head. “Why don’t you understand?” he asked, taking his cap off. He ran his fingers through his matted hair. “This isn’t real, Brian. This is just costumes. You’re lusting for something that doesn’t exist.”

  “But you wear it. You live it!” Brian insisted. “This is you!”

  “No, Brian. This isn’t me, it’s just a skin I wear. I live this!” The majordomo reached out and thumped the banister of the staircase. “And I live this!” He stamped one boot against the floor. “This house, and its owners, are my life.

  “I do this, when I go hunting.” He spread his hands, showing off the outfit.

  “Hunting for what?” Brian asked, knowing the answer.

  “For little lost boys like you, who don’t know enough to be in their own beds in the middle of the night.” Chris tucked his cap under one arm in a gesture Brian had seen thousands of times. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Please,” Brian begged. “Please tell me one thing.”

  “What, Brian, what? I don’t have all night!”

  “Grendel, not using me... does it have something to do with the way I... with how I messed up that first day? Does anyone else know? Do you hate me? Do you know how sorry I am?” His words came out in a rush, questions he never could have asked in front of the others, perhaps one of the reasons he had never really remembered to share his gossip with them.

  Chris sighed. “That’s not my business,” he said gently. “Yes, some people know, but not most. I’m not sensitive about it. No, I don’t hate you. I have never asked for an apology because Mr. Elliot didn’t seem to think that one was necessary, and I am generally guided by him in these things. But if it will make you sleep easier, I accept your apology. Now get back to bed before I beat you the hell up those stairs.” And with that, he gave one good swat at Brian and sent him up the stairs and back toward the bathroom.

  In the morning, the whole episode almost seemed like a dream.

  * * * *

  “Tonight, you go to Grendel,” Alexandra told Claudia when she arrived. “You might as well go now; he’s waiting. And don’t disappoint me, girl.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Claudia automatically responded. And then she walked around the inner balcony to the other wing and came to a stop in front of Grendel’s door, and found herself inside before she even realized that she had gone. There was a dreadful, heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The time had come.

  I must be brave, she thought, pouring his coffee and delivering it to him while he soaked in his jacuzzi. She placed the cup and saucer down gingerly on the little carved wooden stool next to his head rest, and retreated to the spot he told her to kneel in, across the room, where he could see her fully. By the time she got there and settled down, he had opened his eyes and was sitting up a little more to get to the drink.

  “So,” Grendel said, after drinking for a while. “Alex thinks you’re coming along very well. What do you think?”

  “I hope I’m doing well enough to make my Mistress consider taking
me back, sir,” she replied honestly. “I’m doing my best.”

  “Well, complaints about you have been very scant,” he admitted. “You’ve even improved dramatically in your organizational skills.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He nodded. “Of course, there is the little matter of what you’re so terrified about tonight.”

  She blushed suddenly and ducked her head. “Was it that obvious, sir?”

  “It was obvious to Alex when she first casually mentioned that she might like to loan you to me. It’s obvious in the way you talk to me, and it’s also obvious in the way you’ve approached certain facts of life around here. So why don’t we cut to the chase, and you tell me exactly what you think the problem is.”

  Claudia shifted nervously and lowered her eyes again. Grendel’s voice was so nice and friendly right now, surely he’d understand! But how could she explain that she... that she...

  “I’m a virgin,” she blurted out.

  “Yes, I know,” Grendel nodded and finished his coffee.

  “What?” Claudia’s head bounced back up, and she looked into Grendel’s amused eyes. “But... but how...?”

  “I’ll explain. But first, fetch me a towel, and then get my robe, please.” She rushed to do as he said, and he continued to speak while she attended to him.

  “It was really simple. Alex was the one who put it all together. One, you as much told us so in your personal bio, when you mentioned that you broke up with your first boyfriend when he became insistent over the issue of sex, and then you never mentioned a sexual experience with a man or dildo-wielding dyke lover.” He ticked off one finger. “Two, Madeleine suspected something of the sort.” He held up the second finger. “And three, Alex thought that you felt resistant on a number of occasions when she wanted to get more than slightly penetrative with you. Now each of these alone would not have been enough. But all three, plus your thinly disguised fear of being sexually used by men, did indicate a certain something that needed resolution.”