Darkest Fantasies

by Raines, Kimberley

  'I doubt that,' she said acerbically.

  For a fleeting second he wondered where he'd heard that voice before, then teeth closed on his right nipple and he screamed, forgetting everything except the excruciating pain. She bit, ground her teeth together on him, and a hand slid down his stomach, over his penis and balls, between his legs, and a finger wormed into his anus. He spasmed violently at the intrusion, but his penis flickered defiantly into life. He whimpered, tried to thrust the finger out, and farted.

  The indignity of it!

  He gasped on a threat and a prayer as her questing tongue roamed across his chest, long strokes licking, drawing back, and licking again. He tensed with anticipation, but could do nothing to forestall the agony as she bit into the other nipple with sharp teeth. He heard her growl with pleasure deep in her throat as her teeth ground upon his throbbing flesh. 'Oh no,' he cried. 'Help me!'

  But her hands worked their subtle magic on his flesh, and as her finger slid in and out of his protesting anus, so his balls tightened and his penis became engorged with the shameful pleasure of it. And once again she was able to ease herself down upon him and bring herself to the height of orgasm whether he would or no.

  He felt the pulse of her orgasm wrap around him and he whimpered slightly as she paused, gasping, assuming she had finished with him. Yet she remained poised over him. 'Is that nice, slave?' she whispered.

  'Yes... oh yes,' he whispered back.

  'Shall I stop? Do you want me to go away?'

  'No... no, don't stop, please...'

  'Mistress,' she prompted.

  'Mistress,' he gasped. 'Don't stop.' And then he heard her chuckle at his capitulation.

  She rode him expertly, bringing him to the peak of ecstasy time and time again, pausing when his need grew too great, and then sinking softly down upon an erection more tender, more vibrant than he had ever had before. Each time he felt his orgasm coming she slowed, paused, allowed him to hold his seed. Now she moved for his satisfaction alone, for she had already come. When he could hold himself no longer he cried out, and she pressed herself down on him hard so that he came deep within her, felt her grind against his painful ejaculation, and she didn't move or say a word until the last flush had faded from his body. Then she leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. To his surprise, he kissed her back, running his tongue around her even teeth, savouring the fresh toothpaste taste of her. 'You're beautiful,' he whispered sincerely.

  'And you're mine,' she said softly back.

  There was a pause. 'You can't keep me here,' he told her. 'My wife will worry. I'll lose my job...'

  'You've got no choice,' she told him, removing herself from his body. 'You're my prisoner, my sexual partner, my slave, unless I choose to let you go.'

  'But why me?' he said in dismay. 'Why do you want to ruin my life?'

  'I don't want to ruin it,' she told him enigmatically. 'I want to make it better. Believe me, you are just the shell of the man you could become. That's why I picked you out of all the others, because you have potential. Presently you're neither a good lover, nor successful at work. But if you learn well, my slave, by the time I have finished with you, you can be both. And you'll learn to be satisfied with no woman except me.'

  He groaned at the possessive purr he heard in the back of her throat. 'I have a life to return to... a wife...'

  'Your wife is nothing to you, I've seen that. Don't think about her any more. Just think about me. Without me you're nothing, little man. But if you serve me well, you'll be rewarded for your labours, believe me.'

  'Just let me go,' he pleaded.

  He felt the soft touch of lips upon his. 'That, I may never do.'

  This time, when she left, Kevin was filled with anguish. It was all very well having the odd fling, but he had never wanted the same woman more than a few times, apart from Esther. It was funny how once you'd had it with a woman it just became a routine. A chore, almost. It was a good job wives had so little sex drive. It would kill a man if they were all like this one - this Madam... this dominatrix.

  But how could he ever go back to his wife now? How could he go back to his old life, his old confidence, knowing that some woman had kept him bound at her pleasure? He felt such an idiot. Yet a small betraying spark of excitement reminded him he had never felt so satiated in his life.

  Bloody hell, what a woman!

  He heard water running, and tested his bonds with fainthearted tugs, as he twisted his head to listen. 'What are you doing?' he called.

  'I'm washing. I like to wash after sex.'

  'Then what are you going to do?'

  'I am going to go and get on with my work.'

  He was vaguely annoyed. 'And what am I supposed to do?'

  'The only thing you can do. Wait for me.'

  He pulled at his bonds with more effort. 'If I could get my hands free I'd kill you for this, you bitch.'

  'Enjoy thinking about it, slave, because that's all you can do.'

  He heard a smile in her voice as she left. 'What about me?' he roared. 'I want to wash. I want to piss. I want to move. I'm hungry, dammit!'

  The door closed behind the mystery woman.

  The euphoria of that exquisite fuck began to wear off. 'Hell and damnation,' Kevin cursed. 'If ever a man has had an erotic dream, this is probably it. But it's not funny,' he yelled, in case she was listening. 'It's not bloody funny at all! I've had enough!'

  He had no idea of the passing of time. He could only tell that his hunger had become an encompassing ache.

  He began to think of his evenings at home with Esther. The way they had sat in silence through the police serials he enjoyed. The way she had quietly and calmly cleaned up around him before they went to bed. The way she had been so infuriatingly accommodating to his needs, making herself available; on her back without comment, like a receptacle placidly waiting to be filled.

  Why hadn't she been a bit like this Madam character? Taking the initiative for once? Damn it, why were women such opposites? Either sexually starved vampires, clawing at a man for his rod, or sexually retarded, like Esther. Why couldn't they just have understandable needs, like men? Like him?

  He pulled against his bonds. The stretched position was beginning to make his muscles complain. Even as he thought it, his calf muscles spasmed. He cried out in agony, unable to move to relieve the awful contraction.

  Suddenly the door opened again. She was there. 'What's the matter?' She sounded genuinely concerned.

  'Cramp,' he gasped.

  'Ah, I didn't think of that. Where?' He told her, and she began to knead his cramping muscles with firm fingers. 'I guess you could do with some exercise.'

  'Yes,' he agreed instantly, seeing the chance of escape. 'Exercise, that's the answer.'

  A cold flannel wrapped around his mouth and nose. He inhaled a strange smell, felt his senses swim and tried to pull his face away, but her hand followed his nose, and consciousness receded.

  When he came too, something had changed. He realised that he was no longer spread-eagled. Had it all been a horrible dream? He wriggled experimentally. His hands were by his sides, but they were not free. Nothing was free. His hands were glued to his thighs, his elbows to his sides, and his knees and ankles were bonded together. 'What the?' he said, his speech strangely slurred.

  'I thought you might like a change of scenery.'

  It was her. He was still there, wherever there was, at the mercy of his unknown tormentor. Only now he was wrapped, something like a caterpillar, in a web of straps. He was still lying on the bed, but could do no more than flex his joined knees. His hands, rather disconcertingly, seemed to be in pockets of leather, and no amount of wrenching and pulling would free them. She pulled his feet over the side, heaved his shoulders. He sat up on the edge of the bed.

  'What now?' he said irritably, his senses slowly returning. He could feel straps around his neck, chest, middle, upper thigh, above and below the knee, and ankle, and as he strained, he became aware that they were all joi
ned together from top to bottom.

  'First we eat,' she said. 'Then we have some more fun.'

  Kevin didn't like the sound of that.

  'Open wide,' she urged.

  'What for?' he said defensively.

  'One last chance. Eat or don't, I don't care.'

  He opened his mouth, and was spoon-fed some pap like a baby.

  'That's all,' she said after a few mouthfuls.

  'But I'm still hungry,' he complained.

  'You might have some cravings, but that was adequate. Any more and you'll get fat. And we can't have that, now can we?'

  'It's my body. If I want to get fat, I'll bloody-well do so.'

  She chuckled. 'Not here, you won't.'

  His head cocked worriedly inside the blindfold, and he felt something tighten and begin to lift him up and forwards. 'Aaaah!' he yelled, expecting to fall flat n his face, unable to lift his hands to his aid. But instead his knees buckled just slightly, and the slack was taken up. He bounced. He pulled with anger against this new indignity, and just bounced some more. He was strung up on something elastic, just like a baby-bouncer, he realised. He wailed his displeasure.

  'Right,' said the female. 'Now you can get all the exercise you need. Work some of that flab off.'

  'I will not!' he howled indignantly. 'Let me out of this thing!'

  'The fun is just starting,' she said. 'Ready? Now, bend your knees, and jump.'

  He gritted his teeth and stayed still. There was a faint whistle, and he screeched with shock as something cut around his thighs. His legs flexed and he bounced away from the pain. 'Ow! You hit me, you bitch!'

  'Now bounce!'

  'I will not... eeaagh!'

  Suddenly he stopped bouncing. He had been wound up so that his feet were off the floor, and he realised there must be something attaching his ankles to the floor, for his powers of movement were suddenly totally constricted. 'What now?' he said angrily, twisting and tugging against the bonds.

  'You're making much too much noise,' she said, efficiently popping a bar between his teeth as he opened his mouth to complain. 'It's affecting my concentration. I will enjoy this so much more if you shut up.'

  Kevin's eyes nearly popped out with anger as the straps of the gag were tightened under his chin and around his head. It didn't actually stop the noise, but it certainly stopped his words from being comprehensible. Even though, from the vitriolic garble, one could probably guess the content.

  Then he was lowered back onto his feet.

  His first hint of what was to come was a faint whistle followed by a loud smack as the thin leather hit his bare legs. Kevin squealed, danced, bounced and gyrated on the end of the rubber spring as the unknown female plastered his bound body with weals. He screamed wordless abuse as his body flexed and bounded away from the sting of the lash. But he could neither see where they were coming from nor avoid the strokes. He thought for a few moments that he must be in hell. Never had he experienced such total helplessness.

  When she stopped he was panting hard. It took him a moment to register the fact, and he stood there, still tautly waiting for further punishment, wondering if this cessation was some ruse. His leather cage was wound up taut. He froze on tiptoe. What was she going to do next?

  Then she began to writhe around his body in a sexual frenzy. He felt bare breasts against his buttocks as she knelt behind him, and her hands began to tease and play with his cock. His skin, sensitive from the lashing, crawled beneath her fingers. He groaned with the combined rasping pain and eroticism of her now-gentle touch.

  Unable to escape, he stood there while her hands wreaked deadly work upon his cock and her tongue licked up his sore back, evoking conflicting signals of pain and longing. He moaned through the gag, but as his cock began to lurch into rigidity, and his tightly bound legs constricted his tightening balls, his whole body became a mass of eroticism, every inch of flesh sensitised and eager for the touch of this woman. Not any woman, but this woman. This siren. This witch.

  She twisted his cocooned body around, and he moaned and thrust himself at her, but she did not relieve the ache between his legs. Her fingers and tongue carried on smoothing away at all parts of him. Then she was behind him again, her arms wrapped around his bound ones, and she was twirling his nipples between finger and thumb. Blood pulsed into his cock until he thought it would explode. Then she was touching him there again... and something was passed around the base of his erection and tightened. The constriction was painfully, making him groan with unexpected pleasure.

  A finger then slid between his clamped buttocks and began to rub against his anus. Jolts of pleasure were firing from the core of his being into every nerve in his body. It couldn't get any more tense, any more beautifully sexual, he thought.

  Her finger began to penetrate him.

  He gasped and writhed in the exquisite pleasure of that invasion as her finger went in and out, greasing, enlarging, softening his clenched muscle. Then something pushed against him, which was not her finger. A cry was wrenched from between his bound jaws as he stretched and stretched to accommodate something alien in that most private of places. Dear God, what was she doing to him?

  A deft turn of her wrist and vibrations began to permeate his body from within; alien, strange, and wonderful pulses that reached out towards his sexual organs. His muscles spasmed with shocked delight.

  He was moaning deep in his throat, hanging helplessly in the spider's cocoon, and once more she stepped back and began to whip him. His mind descended deep into the sexual core of his being. Now every lash of the whip, every flinch of his body was an erotic torment doubled by the constrictions which bound his nether regions. He moaned, but not in dismay, for he had no idea that he had moaned. His libido engulfed his awareness until a chance flick of the whip kissed the tip of his penis. With the force of an explosion he erupted on to the floor.

  There was silence.

  And in that silence he gradually awoke to an awareness of what he had just been through, and the awful comprehension that he had been force-fed with the most wonderful, mind-bending experience he had ever had in his life. He had been injected with a mind-dependency drug and he knew he wanted it again and again and again and again.

  Within his mask and behind his gag he wept for Esther. He had never before known the exquisite sexuality of pain, and knew that she could never satisfy him again with her innocent, trusting dependence.

  When the dominatrix came in later and lay him back down upon the bed, he was almost compliant, having attained a kind of desperate acceptance of her domination over him.

  Back upstairs, Esther hummed happily as she ironed. A strange warmth kept invading her tummy and muscling its way between her legs. She felt herself moisten there. Very carefully she unplugged the iron, folded up the board and put it away, and made her way to their empty bedroom. She danced a small dance as she threw off her clothes, swirling them around her head and throwing them in abandonment all over the bedroom. She looked in the mirror, made a moue of her lips and pushed her breasts together with her hands, then she threw herself down onto the bed and closed her eyes. Kevin tied up, at her mercy. Pleasurable spasms flashed through her aroused body. Kevin alone in a soundproofed garage. She listened. Could she hear anything? No.

  She lay back and opened her legs and began to rub a forefinger gently up and down between them. She was already slick with need. Her smile stretched into a gasp. Her legs flailed over the bed. Blood pulsed through her breasts. Her finger moved faster and faster. Her breath began to shorten. Then it became a gasp. It was coming! Ah! A single, fleeting, blindingly beautiful moment when something exploded deep inside her sex, ran like electricity to her fingertips and toes. A slow pulse, a rippling outwards. She counted with held breath, stilled finger pressing on the spot...

  She lay for a moment revelling in the spread of warmth that lingered from the orgasm, and her breathing began to slow. She thought of Kevin, lying alone in darkness, unable to touch himself. A slow smile dawned.
A feline smile. She yawned, stretched, spread her limbs over his side of the bed, and dropped instantly into a sound sleep.

  In the morning she showered, dressed, and went out.

  'Hello darlin', where's hubby today?' the chap at the petrol station asked, taking her credit card. The hubby usually filled the car without fail at seven on a Monday, and it was now Wednesday.

  She assessed him with new eyes. He was not too bright, but was attractive in a sexual kind of way, and for some reason his familiarity did not offend her as it had in the past. Instead, she returned his open appraisal with one of her own. It was kind of fun looking at people, and imagining them strapped up in Madam's room. She could take that superior expression off his face in a single stroke. The thought made her smile.

  'Kevin's a bit indisposed today,' she said, insinuating all sorts of suggestions into the soft words. 'But I'm going to look after him, and make him better.'

  The garage attendant's eyes widened as he clearly thought he'd like to have her making him better. Esther smiled inwardly at his response. Oh yes, she was going to make him much, much better. She drove on into town to do some shopping without Kevin's overshadowing presence dictating what she bought. She got herself a new pair of jeans. Tight ones. She kept them on, wearing them around the town with enjoyment, wiggling her hips. Someone wolf-whistled, and though she knew better than to turn round and search the crowd for that quick grin which would have given him away, she knew it was for her, and it felt good.

  Then she went and had her hair cut in a ragged, fuzzy blonde halo.

  She bought herself a little red lacy top - cheap and flirty - and a pair of heeled shoes in the same colour.

  Then she sat at a table outside a cafe, bought herself a cup of coffee and a big sticky bun, and ogled the men who were ogling her.

  Chapter 6

  'Kevin?' Esther shook him. 'Kevin, wake up. You'll be late for work.'