Safeword: Quinacridone

by Candace Blevins

  In a reflection of a sketch from years earlier, Cara was drawn as a computer desk, bent over with the monitor strapped to her back, and her ass facing the user so he could pull her onto his lap and fuck her as he watched a porn flick on the screen.

  There were pictures throughout the books of her as a statue at a party, often used by multiple people at once with an endless line of men waiting their turn.

  Travis took photographs of the drawings he wanted to talk to her about, or might want to try to duplicate. While many of the images turned him on, others disturbed him, and he needed to give himself a few days before thinking about it too much.

  He had looked up Billy Jenkins after Cara’s revelation and discovered the fool was on this third wife. He played pro-football, with a contract worth millions over a couple of years, but he lived in a modest three bedroom home because his first two wives had taken him to the cleaners. The idiot had no savings and was deep in debt.

  Travis had learned a great deal about shallow women, and could easily see the third marriage was also destined to die an early death. Comparing wife-number-three’s online wedding pictures with a photo from a recent charity event, he immediately noted breast enhancements and shapelier nose. A few minute’s research branded her a society whore — presiding over various charities and elitist organizations, and always picture perfect. Travis found hundreds of photos of her online, each capturing beauty-pageant smile and posture with nary a single bad snapshot. He also couldn’t find any images of the couple within ten feet of each other over the past six months, where before the football player’s arm was usually around his trophy wife.

  Revenge on Billy Jenkins would be pointless, as the man was his own worst enemy. Travis had set an alert to give him a report of any news about Billy Jenkins, and within a few weeks a sports article blamed a costly fumble on his lack of focus, noting his wife had served him divorce papers a few days prior and he was currently living in a hotel. Travis had deleted the alert, confident his decision to do nothing was the right one.

  After looking through Cara’s sketchbooks, he wished the man had been a worthy opponent; he’d have enjoyed crushing him.

  * * * *

  “I’ve made a lot of kinky equipment for you over the years, but damned if this isn’t one of your most perverse.”

  Travis grinned. “Let’s install the mannequin and give it a test whirl. I measured carefully but we may need to adjust the height.”

  The life-sized model with Cara’s exact measurements had come in handy a number of times as Travis designed and ordered furniture; and he was once again glad he’d thought of it. They strapped the ankles and wrists into the mechanism and turned it on, and Travis was pleased to see the platform raise the figure to the underside of the desk, ass at the edge tilted just right for fucking, legs bent and spread wide. Travis scooted the chair to the desk and pulled the mannequin onto his lap, pleased to discover the height was perfect. He pushed down on the back end and the spring allowed him the half dozen inches of movement he’d need.

  The contractor laughed. “I’d wondered at first why we were making this in here instead of the playroom, but I think I understand now. This is the media room, so you’ll have a way to get off while you watch porn, is that it?”

  Travis angled his eyes up without moving his head. “Got it in one.”

  “This girl’s serious, then?”

  Travis’ smile faded. He trusted Mike — nothing had been leaked so far, but the artisan hadn’t asked personal questions before, either.

  He raised his head to give Mike his undivided attention. “Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve never had me build furniture specifically for someone else’s kinks before she came along. You designed equipment around your desires, with nothing custom made for a specific woman.” He lifted his hands in supplication. “I don’t want to pry, sorry if I overstepped.”

  “No, Mike,” Travis sighed. “It’s okay. You know more about me than most people because you’ve made so much of my equipment.” He shook his head. “The speculation about what Cara might be into since she’s with me makes her uncomfortable enough, she’d be devastated if it got out she had her own kinks. I wish I could shield her better.”

  Mike began collecting tools and settling them into his toolbox. “That’s healthy, then.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Travis, leaning back and tilting his head.

  “The equipment you’ve had me build recently,” he waved at the desk and motioned downstairs, “all points to objectification; but it’s just sexual, right? If she wanted to be an object for real the gossip would feed that by making her one of your possessions. From what I’ve seen, she’s driving the same car and pursuing her career. She’s still her own person.”

  Travis stood and paced, thinking. He’d talked to Paul about this at length, wanting to make sure he wasn’t doing damage by feeding into Cara’s need for objectification, but Mike’s words struck a chord and he was grateful for the perspective.

  “Thanks Mike. I’ve done a lot of soul searching and a lot of research. I balance the time I spend objectifying her by insisting she accept my seeing her as the woman I love; even though Paul has talked to her and assures me this isn’t something that needs fixing. It’s her kink, not a personality flaw.” He shook his head. “But having you validate it is a big help. It’s like the monster inside of me that needs to come out and hurt people; he’s not part of my everyday life, it’s purely a sexual thing. I’m not broken, just different. Objectification happens to be what turns her on; she’s not broken, either.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cara took extra care shaving, as requested, careful not to further arouse herself. She glanced towards the vanity for the thousandth time, seeing the flesh colored swim cap, blindfold, wrist and ankle cuffs, breathable butterfly gag, and lube.

  Convinced she was clean-shaven as possible, she stepped out of the tub and dried off, wondering what devious plans Travis had in store for her. She loved when he took her sight and voice; and as she pulled the swim cap over her hair and tucked it under, the fire smoldering deep within burned brighter at the image in the mirror.

  She generously lubed her ass, as instructed, before washing her hands and buckling the wrist and ankle cuffs. He’d want to insert the gag, so she only needed to don the blindfold before ringing the bell. The one he’d laid out was domed over the eyeballs and she figured he intended to keep her in the dark a long time tonight.

  Sitting on her vanity stool, she took one last look at herself before the blindfold stole her sight. She placed her hand on the cool, flat marble surface in front of her and felt for the bell, striking the button on top when she found it.

  The door opened, footsteps neared, and a hand caressed her cheek.

  “You’ll have two ways to stop things once the gag goes in, Cara Mia. You’ll have a clicker attached to your right pointer finger and you can always stomp or pat your safeword-rhythm. I don’t plan to do anything to make you safeword while I’ve taken your voice, but it’s there if you need it. How’re you feeling?”

  Cara smiled. “Horny.”

  She heard the smile in his voice, sensed a kiss to the top of her head through the swim cap. “That’s my girl. I’m going to use you tonight. Are you ready to be my cunt? My ass?” His tone grew more imposing and she knew his eyes had gone cold. “I’ll take your voice, sight, and hearing; and then lace your pony boots on and take you for a walk before I fuck you.”

  She felt his hands on her shoulders as he said, “When you feel both of my hands on your shoulders urging you down, I want you to go to hands and knees and crawl forward until your leash stops you. You’ll be attached at wrists and ankles, and you’ll feel a natural indention for your knees, elbows, and hands. I’ll pat you on the ass before I turn anything on, so be prepared for movement after you feel it.” He caressed her cheek, his voice softening a little as he added. “I don’t want you waiting for pain, that’s not what tonight’s about. I’ll let you se
e pictures later. Tell me your instructions.”

  * * * *

  Cara wasn’t sure where in the house they were as he’d led her every direction, hobbling in the pony boots. It seemed as if she were moving in a dream as hands weighed heavily on her shoulders and she dropped to all fours, crawled, stopped. Her knees and ankles were secured to something, her legs spread wide, and the cool air caressed exposed tissues. Her lower back was strapped down, arching her ass higher, and her forearms were belted in place. He patted her bottom and she felt a vibration. He’d said there’d be movement, but without her senses she couldn’t tell if she was stationary or not.

  Soft padding touched her back and the vibration stopped. Hands on her ass again, and she was pulled and pushed and a cock impaled her pussy, invading her depths with no warning. It was warm, so it wasn’t a dildo. He slid completely in, until his thighs touched the base of her bottom, his hands on her ass holding her down.

  The pressure of his hands relaxed and her lower torso rose, coming off his cock. He pushed her down and pierced her yet again.

  It hit her at once; she was being used as a masturbation toy. The idea sent her into overdrive and her internal muscles tightened around the cock inside of her as she tried to moan around the gag, but no sound came out. She couldn’t move, was just a thing, an object to be fucked.

  Everything faded except Travis inside of her, the hands on her ass sliding her up and down over the cock beneath her. The boots, the restraints, the hood and gag — everything disappeared into the background except the sensations at her pussy.

  Her orgasm swept her up like a tornado, tearing through and leaving her breathless as the waves continued to roll through her body. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she was trying to catch her breath when the cock came out of her pussy and pushed into her ass. She gulped air in through her nose and the small hole through the gag, trying to relax and let him in. The tight ring of muscles gradually relaxed and he drove in, taking his pleasure in her body. She felt her identity shatter, turning her into a thing, an object, used for his pleasure. Nothing existed save the cock invading her ass and the fire inside of her demanding it be let loose to blaze through her soul.

  When he was completely buried in her ass he held still while she became accustomed to him, and she felt him leaning forward until his fingers touched her head, and she could hear. He stroked her breasts, tweaked her nipples and sat back up, still embedded in her ass.

  “Tighten your ass muscles once if you can hear me.”

  She squeezed his cock, held it, and he chuckled. “I should be more specific. Relax again; get used to me. You’re mounted under a table in the media room. I’ve been watching porn and using your pussy to pleasure myself while I watch. I figured maybe you should hear what’s going on as I fuck your ass. Just a toy, a cunt and ass used to get me off. My very own little fucktoy.”

  Cara heard the sound of the porno flick now, and felt his cock begin to move slowly in her ass as he moved her up and down over it, and the speakers broadcast the continuous thuds of a flogger crashing into skin and a woman moaning in pain and pleasure. The longer she listened to the flick the more objectified she felt, the hornier she was, and the more frustrated she became as she couldn’t move or do anything to help get herself off.

  As the sounds ramped up on the video, Travis thrust faster, using her as a jack-off toy while he enjoyed the show. The woman was screaming now and she heard the onscreen Dom begin to grunt. Travis let loose on her, and though he climaxed as the man on the video came, she didn’t find release.

  A plug went into her ass, and her pussy jumped in hopeful anticipation as something hard slid into it as well. She wanted to groan as both began vibrating on a low setting — not sufficient to get her off, but enough to drive her the rest of the way to crazy.

  “I’m going to the kitchen to fix some popcorn and wash my cock so I can fuck your pussy again. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Use the clicker if you need me; I’m turning the house speaker on so I’ll hear you. You’re so horny you want to scream right now, aren’t you? Fair warning, it’s going to get a lot worse before I send you over the edge. My inner sadist wants to deny you release while we see how many times I can get off in one night. I copied hours of video into the media room’s folder; we can go all night if I want.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Jacob, please come in; thanks for stopping by. When I called for an appointment I intended to come to you.”

  Jacob stepped into the foyer, smiling as he said, “No problem; I’d planned to be in Chattanooga for the weekend and coming a day early wasn’t an issue. You said you had a couple of projects you needed help with?”

  Travis closed the door and motioned Jacob to follow as he headed to his home office. “I need an evening gown, a party dress, and I have a few latex projects in mind. I’ve been wondering...I’ve seen dancers in nighttime parades with costumes that light up. What would it take to make someone look like a fancy lamp, complete with holding a working light bulb?”

  Jacob raised his eyebrows in curiosity, not trying to hide his surprise. “As it turns out, I know someone good with electricity who can probably help us figure it out. As for the costume, I assume you’re thinking a statue holding a torch or globe? Or do you want to dress the person as a regular floor lamp?”

  “I hadn’t considered the statue idea; I was thinking of making her into a floor lamp, but if you could find a statue lamp I could purchase and make her look enough like it so I have a matched set, that’d be perfect.”

  Travis waved him into a seat as they talked, and Jacob made a call, asking someone about the logistics. He absentmindedly laid the phone aside as he finished the conversation and pulled a sketchbook from his satchel, his entire being focused on the pencil and pad as his arms moved erratically to transfer his concept from brain to paper.

  He talked as he sketched. “Zach says it isn’t absolutely necessary, but would be safer if we have latex between skin and electrical components. I need space for the batteries, but if we completely encase her, including her hair, I can have fake latex hair with an alcove for the battery pack and any other components. Most statues have the arm raised with a globe thrust above the head, so we’d only have to run the wire under the plastic hair down to the shoulder and up to the hand.” He stopped and looked at his rough sketch and glanced up at Travis, tilting the pad to show the drawing. “Her arm’ll get tired quickly though, so you may want to have a few poses in mind, and we’ll need to make sure they all work with the length of chord and the costume.”

  Travis sat next to Jacob in one of the visitors’ chairs, and he leaned forward to examine the sketch. “Yes, perfect. This project parallels another of my ideas. I’d like to turn her into a sex doll — a latex outfit conforming to her ass and pussy so she can be fucked without anyone touching her skin. Is it possible to make a holder for the globe so it can also go in her ass? I’d like to see her bent over, with the light coming out of...”

  Jacob smiled. “What a lucky girl. I didn’t know you had an objectification fetish, but if she shares it, this should really get her going. Yes, I can make it. Once I have the pattern it’s not a big deal to make two outfits, so we can tint one to match the lamp we find, and the other can be whatever color you want — I assume skin tone? How do you want to handle the face?”

  The men discussed logistics and made plans for Jacob to measure Cara for the two dresses that afternoon.

  * * * *

  Cara took a deep cleansing breath as she finally finished the CGI texture pieces. She saved the files, uploaded them to the project folder on the company’s server, and glanced at the clock, grimacing when she realized Travis must already be home. She’d wanted to finish in time to shower before seeing him.

  His shadow fell into the room before he stepped into the doorway, and he smiled as she looked up. She rubbed her forehead, trying to focus on reality again as she said, “You had something triggered to tell you when I uploaded the files, didn’t y
ou?”

  He grinned, his eyes lighting with delight. She knew he appreciated someone who could figure out his tech stuff was just computer programs, not magic. “Guilty as charged. I peeked in on you earlier but you were engrossed and I didn’t want to disturb you. Are you hungry?”

  She hadn’t been, but as soon as he asked she realized she’d forgotten to eat lunch. She nodded and he said, “I requested Debbie fix something we could keep warm, so there’s lasagna in the oven. The table’s already set; wash your hands and meet me in the kitchen.”

  Cara was surprised to see the table set with good china, and a bottle of wine sitting in ice. “What’s the occasion?”

  Travis raised an eyebrow. “No special occasion, it’s just lasagna.”

  She smiled, wondering how she got so lucky. “You spoil me.”

  He looked a little sheepish as he said, “Well, I suppose I do have something to talk to you about, and I guess I was hoping to show how special you are while we’re having the conversation.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” she said, her heart dropping into her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

  His eyes grew large and he rushed to say, “Nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry if it sounded that way. I promise it’s all good. Come, sit down and tell me what you thought of Jacob’s sketches.”

  “I’d wondered why he wanted to take pictures of me in a leotard from all those angles; I had no idea he’d send sketches drawn onto images of me. I loved both dresses; he does great work. What’d you think?”

  “I think you’d look beautiful in a burlap sack, but I like both designs.” He hesitated a moment and put his fork down before saying, “I was wondering if you’d like his help deciding what to wear for your meetings with the New York gallery owner? You’ll be hammering out a contract, so you may want to consider a fashionable business suit. I think you do a marvelous job dressing yourself, but Jacob knows what’ll impress the New York people in particular; so if you’d like, we can ask him to either create a custom design or take you shopping for something off the shelf.”