“Alexa!” The sound of her name exploded away the languid feeling the impending storm produced and brought her instantly to her feet. She leapt toward the door and opened it wide, certain that she’d forgotten something to have Bo coming for her now.
She saw his face and exclaimed a wary, “Bo?” His utter coldness, the toughness in the set of his jaw suggested that he had some weighty matter on his mind.
“What’s wrong?”
“Not one damn thing is wrong with me that whipping your bratty ass won’t take care of.”
Ah, now she could feel a sexual heat behind the moment.
“What? What the hell did I do to earn this…?” She meant his anger more than what he was about to do.
“Does it matter? Really? How about you choose to submit to me because that’s what I need from you now? If you want rational reasons, make ‘em up. I’m doing this to satisfy me; if you want to take something from it fine, that’s up to you. All I expect of you is your submission. Aside from that, I really have no interest in what you have to say.”
She couldn’t have been more stunned. “You weren’t like this yesterday… what? Did I kick you in the middle of the night?”
The remark seemed to amuse him, though it did nothing to change his mood, or his plans, and he didn’t bother to answer.
The boy’s departure had left them to enjoy the freedom of a Luke free winery, a Luke free Alexa, a Tatum free life for the first time in over ten years. Alexa and Bo spent ten glorious days, often acting like two adolescents at the beginning of summer, riding, fucking, picnicking with nothing but wine, bread and cheese in their backpacks, and a feral sexual hunger that never seemed to abate. They swam in the stream, caught pollywogs, frogs and turtles, studied their strange shapes then let them go, after which they rolled around in the grass and had sex. There were times he got hard with her, whipped, spanked or flogged her because she was noticeably restless or was too talkative or she asked for it – usually quite literally. “I need something nasty,” she’d start the conversation. He’d keep on her about what ‘nasty’ meant until she finally spilled the latest sexual fantasy to fly through her thoughts. That’s how they ended up on the beach, swimming naked in the Pacific Ocean, and then screwing behind the rocks of a secluded cove with Bo in her ass. The ride was hard and her knees were bruised from the sand. Though to Alexa bruises were a badge of honor.
Many nights Bo would be picking his guitar making up nasty sex songs with Alexa as the center of his lyrics. And when all the wildness had been spent they collapsed on the bed or couch in Bo’s cottage and snuggled inside the comforting energy of each other’s arms. Not once did they venture into the main house; Bo’s cottage would be their love nest. And yet, for all Bo’s willingness to let off steam with the newly liberated Alexa, there was a sense that there was always something else in Bo’s mind for the two of them, something beyond the month of reckless abandon he promised her once the matter with Luke had been settled. This time in-between the past and the rest of her life was his concession to her. Though he never spoke of it specifically, it was an admission that she needed to become accustomed to the fact that she was really free, and the weight of her past was finally gone.
She asked Bo once, day ten in fact, what it was he said to Luke when the confrontation took place about the contents of the safe, and his knowledge of her alleged crime. He’d come back from the main house that day with two CDs containing backup copies of the documents in the safe – Bo had been right that she had not been given all of it. But she also suspected that he had something more in mind to discuss with Luke than just collecting incriminating evidence.
“What exactly did you discuss with him?”
“Not important,” he’d answered.
“Oh, it was important. I know you, Bo Hitchcock…” she cocked her head and peered at him as if she were attempting to read his mind. “Do you have something on him I don’t know about?”
“Sorry, Lexy, that’s all you’ll get from me.”
“Not fair!”
“Fair enough for me. My info, my rules.” He smiled as if that was that, but quickly saw that she would not be satisfied with his answer.
“Okay, and this is all you’re going to get! There’s incriminating evidence on both sides of this. Luke had his secrets, too, ones I’ve known about for a long time that should never be made public. I made a promise to Warren to keep the boy’s secrets, and there is only one thing that would make me break that promise. All I needed to do was let Luke understand exactly what I knew about a young debutant in Carmel and an old bum in the City. He got the message.” The door slammed shut with that admission, and she knew better than to ask for more. She assumed that she was that ‘one thing’.
The sky seemed darker still as Bo pulled the naked Alexa into the meager daylight. The smell of rain was closer still, and if she thought about it, she might have felt a few big drops hit her flesh. Though for now her attention was on Bo, not the approaching rain. He roughly grabbed her arm and made a beeline for the stables where he gathered several things he stuffed into an old knapsack. Before heading out, he stopped long enough to snap a metal training collar around her throat – a heavy piece made of steel with four thick rings and a brass padlock at the rear. He attached a lengthy chain to the ring in front, then threaded the metal links through her pussy and drew it up to her back, where he jerked it hard, and finally snapped the end of the chain into the ring at the back of her neck, right next to the padlock. He clipped a leash in front, then headed into the hills with her in tow. They hiked the well-worn path to where fields of verdant grapes yielded to a woods of oaks and aspen and evergreens. He wore boots, she a pair of thin canvas shoes. The further they hiked the more rough the trail became, the more her feet ached in the slim shoes.
Once they reached the trailhead, another path veered off to the left. Hiking a hundred feet along that trail, then down a gulley to their right, the pair finally veered back left as they climbed an embankment and emerged into an open space, a small clearing familiar to her, where a four-foot high granite boulder sat wedged between the trunks of two mature oaks.
“You remember this place?” Bo asked as he viewed the sight. He’d always been a bit in awe of the way the boulder sat between the granite as if it had been meant to be there.
“How could I forget it?” Alexa replied.
Bo had searched the woods for nearly two days to find the place. Somewhere at the tail end of his memories he recalled how Warren had found the place with the unusual rock formation. Alexa remembered the day Warren took her here the first time – he’d been angry, too, that day, in a fury over her attitude. In those days there was still enough of the wild girl in her to offend his masterful sensibilities. Sometimes they had nasty fights – which Warren could always win, of course, but only because he held the ultimate ticket to her submission. It had been summer when he first brought her here, the third summer with Warren, if she remembered correctly. He’d wanted a location far from the house where he could safely punish his slave when Luke was staying at the winery. The place would be off the usual woodland paths, in a sequestered location that the boy would never find. With Alexa gagged, Luke would be unable to hear her screaming. Normally, Bo led her there and did the dirty work himself, while Warren kept Luke busy in the house. Other times, when Warren found his anger with her particularly personal, he took her to the rock himself and let Bo babysit while he laid her out spread-eagle on the granite and whipped her backside.
“Apparently I left the stakes in place. No reason to remove them, I suppose, though I never figured I’d be needing this rock again.”
“Do you need it now?” she asked. The rain-swollen air felt hot against the skin, yet Alexa was chilled to the bone, and she hugged her arms. As fast as one memory was pushed aside, another terrifying one took its place. She hated this spot, the tall saplings, the oaks, the granite boulder, and all that had been done to her here. But like every other weapon in Bo’s arsenal of possible
aphrodisiacs, the place stirred her sexual juices in ways few things did.
The rain began to fall around them in fat drops that became more frequent as the storm moved in. Gusts of wind ruffled trees, while something ominous seemed to be coming on fast. Unfazed by inclement weather Bo moved on with his task. As the drops began to multiply, she watched the familiar ritual of Bo cutting down saplings with his hunting knife, and leaving them in a pile to use later. Then he removed any sort of vegetation, trees, berry vines and wild rose that had grown up around the rock over the last few years. With the area cleared, and the stone unimpeded by forest undergrowth, the granite seemed to beckon her, just as the past beckoned her back to a time she’d long ago discarded to the wasteland of unwanted memories. This, too, was chilling, and she wanted no part of it – except for the wild girl who was all enthused about the pain that was sure to follow.
Finished with his task, Bo called to her through the rain. “Go on, you know what to do.”
“And you know how I hate this rock!” she shouted back across the twelve foot space trying to be heard above the rain.
“Doesn’t matter to a slave,” he mocked, shouting now himself. “You brought this on, now deal with it. Come here.”
She edged closer. “What do you mean I brought this on?”
“Don’t you argue with me,” he warned. “And don’t insult yourself by pretending that you haven’t a clue why you’re here.”
“What? Luke ordered you do to this?” she sassed.
“Now you really are playing dumb,” he said, disgustedly. He looked at her squarely. “This is all about you and me,” he continued to shout to be heard.
“But why?” The rain came on strong now, pouring off her naked body in sheets.
Bo was soaked but he hardly noticed. “Because you need it,” he yelled then he pulled her close. “And because I need to beat you. I have no rational reason, but if I were to give this up now, you’d hate me. Let’s just call it justice. Now move!” He fixed one eye on her, shoving her toward the rock. “Don’t waste my time stalling. The longer I wait, the worse it’ll be for you.”
Her hair was plastered to her face, and the chain through her legs felt as if it would cut her in two. None of that mattered.
Despite the rain, despite the cutting hurt, despite the fear running rampant inside her, she was aroused by this, aroused by Bo and the firm insistence that drove him like a man possessed.
Almost frantic now, Alexa scrambled forward, catching a stone in her left foot, “Ouch!” She came up grimacing, looking pleadingly back at Bo, who watched unmoved by her plight and annoyed that she was taking so long. With the smarting pain finally receding, she clamored for the rock, now navigating her way through mud, not dirt, and laying herself out on the cool, wet stone. While still settling herself in position, Bo hurriedly bound each stretched-out wrist and ankle with a leather strap, yanked it down and tied it off to one of four stakes that had been hammered into the ground like four points on a compass. Wriggle room was minimal, as it had been every other time she’d been punished on this rock. Unable to free herself was reason alone for surrender, but by then, any fight in her had already slipped away. She prepared herself for pain, hoping that the beating would take her beyond this forest of trees and the rock to which she so tenaciously clung.
Bo used no finesse that day. Picking several lean and bendable branches from the felled saplings, he fashion a bundle of switches, wrapped them with a length of leather cord he pulled from his knapsack, then stepped in behind the waiting submissive. She could feel the energy emanating from his body, the heat of his angry crotch almost attacking her. She could almost smell his beastly smile, and taste his lusty pheromones in the warm wet air.
The branches snapped against her flesh, with thin lines cutting between rivers of streaming water running off her back. The blows kept coming as steady as the rain, until he’d whipped her enough to leave bold welts, streaks of red crisscrossing her flesh in intricate patterns.
“Oh, dear god,” she moaned. She tried to twist away from the onslaught, but there was nowhere to go. The next strike hit the side of her thigh and she screamed, “No, no, noooooo…you goddam bastard!” though Bo didn’t hear the last few words.
What she hated most on that odd morning was how the rain intensified the pain, making it difficult to reach any sweet nirvana where pain becomes pleasure, and punishment a ticket to paradise. The conductor may have punched her ticket, but there was no pleasure in this awful moment.
“Goddam it no!” the heated shout was aggressive and angry, demanding him to stop, but she might as well have been screaming at a brick wall.
He lashed her with a vengeance born of some inner grudge, and there was no vehement cry that would stop him – save some true emergency. She would have liked to pretend that she knew nothing about his reasons for this – he said himself that it wasn’t a rational act – but she knew better. Bo felt justified, and though it was a reluctant admission for her, she had a feeling she knew exactly why this was so necessary. She thought he might have forgiven her, but Bo would think differently about a lot of matters concerning them. Being a basic and uncomplicated man, he liked the simplicity of punishment, righting wrongs with tried and true measures, then letting them go. Some men left things to fester after punishment, but Bo held nothing back as he whipped her as hard as he ever had. With every red stripe he left on her tender flesh a bit of his anger vanished, and he kept on until there was no grievance remaining.
This was a perfect morning for the man – even the weather cooperated with his plans. The noisy din of pelting rain drowned out her desperate screaming cries. Their forest burrow hid them from the rest of the world and offered a private place where they could work out emotions previously left unresolved.
By the time Bo wore them both out, the rain had slowed to a gentle shower. Then he was done, finished and ready to move on.
Since the knots that bound her to the rock were soaked and nearly impossible to untie, he cut the straps above the knots to set her free, leaving the loose ends to dangle from her wrists and ankles. He’d remove them later. She fell back against his chest, where he held her close to him for a good long while. But when the rain picked up again, he suddenly took off up the hill, hauling her along by the leather strap knotted to her right wrist.
She was three steps back and finding it difficult to keep up with her feet dragging through the mud. “Where are you going?” she called to him through the rain.
“Where you can get dry.”
“How about going back to the house?”
“How about you just keep quiet.”
A few paces more, they came to the crest of the hill where sat a small lean-to shanty. Given its ramshackle condition, it didn’t look much more promising for cover than the driving rain outside, but once inside they found the tiny space completely dry.
They huddled under the cover of the lean-to and let the pelting rain pass until they were able to speak again and be heard.
“Okay,” Alexa finally piped up. “You mind my asking what all that was about?”
“You have to ask? You don’t know?”
“Yes, I really have to ask, and I really don’t know – for sure. With you, Bo, I can never be sure because we just don’t always think alike.”
She saw what looked like a grin on his stony face.
“Just settling a score,” he said.
She looked at him baffled.
And then his eyes narrowed. “You have any idea what it’s like to have the woman you love fucking another man, a kid, a punk, watching her kneel for him, and on one level accept it as if she’s liking what the kid’s doing to her? You have any idea what it’s like waiting for you to pass out your favors to me when you were done being mad at me, finally, finally, realizing I was on your side? I knew the two of you were going to have to go through something like what you just ended. I knew there was stuff remaining from the old days – never figured it would be so sexual, but it does make
sense. I knew it was going to take time, but not five months, for crissakes! You try my patience, Alexa, you always have. But not anymore!”
She stared at him, her eyes filled with tears. She would have thought her emotions would have been spent on the rock – she’d cried there, too. But she never expected anything quite like this, as a flood of fresh tears streamed down her face.
“You’re mine now.” He looked at her with tender eyes, though there was still a firmness in his expression. “You’ll answer to me, slave. Does that explain things well enough?”
She nodded her head. “Yes, it does.”
He scowled a bit. “What did you say there? I called you slave. You answer like a slave.”
“Yes, master, it explains it all.” She was too overwhelmed to say more, though something was very right about the word master. Something that even the wild girl could say.
Bo finally smiled then nodded his head, pleased. He looked into her eyes with such resolve and firmness that it was difficult for her to take…although she refused to look away. She knew that her days of unfettered freedom had come to an end, and that was as it should be. She needed his mastery more than she needed her freedom.
“Very good, Alexa. I liked the way you said Master,” he finally replied. “Let’s be doing that more often.”
More Lizbeth Dusseau BDSM Erotica
Little Savage
In The Garden of Lust
Seven Days in Cell Block 7
Memoirs of a Sex Toy
Innocence Defiled
Honeymoon In Bondage
Labyrinth
Carly On Her Knees
Taken Before Dawn
Punishable Offenses
Betrayal of the Virgin Bride
Sexual Mischief
Bounty Hunter
The War of the Remingtons
The Truth About Marianne
Master For A Desperate Slave
Poor Little Rich Slut
The Humiliation of Hannah
The Scandalous Demise of Lily Lake
You'll Answer To Me Page 18