“Yes, I do, or I wouldn’t agree to it. Now what’s the second part?”
He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “I’ll show you when we’re through with our dinner.”
* * * *
When they’d finished eating he walked her down the porch steps to the cushioned swing by the pool. She still wore her swimsuit, but with a wraparound skirt cover-up, and he had on his bathing suit. He opened his electronic tablet to a presentation, the first picture of a girl wearing a leather hood covering eyes and cheeks and extending over her nose without blocking the nostrils. The woman’s hair and ears were completely concealed, with the lips and a portion of the jawline the only things visible as the hood molded under the chin and ended in a large collar fastened around the throat. He flipped to another image showing a ring gag attachment holding the mouth open. The leather was almost the same color as the woman’s skin, creating the unsettling effect of a faceless head on a female body.
“Tell me, do you think this hood objectifies this woman? Takes away some of her humanity?”
Cara’s libido blazed to life as she nodded.
“You know I have male friends in the lifestyle who know me as, well, me...instead of an alias. I’d like to throw a get-together and provide a party favor. You, in this hood, tied up for the length of the party in some artful way that makes you available to anyone who wants to use your mouth or ass. Your pussy is mine and will be plugged for the duration of the night.”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers as he said, “You’ll start with a small ball gag that won’t stretch your jaw, but when the fun begins the ring gag will go in so the first couple of people who fuck your throat will do so whether you want them to or not. I don’t intend to hurt your jaw too bad, but I’m sure at least three or four will finish before we free your mouth.”
Cara’s hips moved on their own as her insides heated at the mere idea, and Travis smiled and kissed her on the forehead before continuing. “To sweeten the deal, I’ll write a check for ten thousand dollars at the end of the night if you’re the perfect party favor, and you get to decide who it goes to. If you want it for yourself, great. If you want it to go to the Arts Council, or some other charity, that’s fine, too. The point is I’ll be paying for your services. These parties happen a few times a year and you’ve been to one with me so far, at Mike’s house. I used to host one at the condo every fourteen or eighteen months, and while I know this sounds totally backwards, I won’t feel comfortable donating my non-latex’d girlfriend as party favor but would love to offer my wife.”
For so long Cara had felt it imperative Travis not perceive her as someone he could buy, and she almost turned him down on the spot, but his last sentence quieted her objections. She didn’t want her boyfriend to purchase her, but she discovered the notion of being bought by her husband was a completely different matter.
She’d fingered her ring as she considered, and finally raised her head to ask, “You offered me up to all comers once before, how will this be different?”
“The latex was thick and virtually indestructible as long as you weren’t around sharp objects. They were fucking a costume with you in it, not really fucking you. This group requires blood test results twice a year and we all practice safe sex with those we aren’t fluid bonded, thus condoms aren’t required.” He cradled her cheek in his hand and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve decided to plug your pussy because if your birth control fails I want to know it’s my child.”
He stopped talking a second and when he spoke again his voice was deeper, serious. “I will push your boundaries. By the end of the night your ass will be dripping with the cum of numerous men and you’ll have taken countless loads in your mouth. They aren’t sticklers for swallowing every drop but a few will make you hold it in your mouth, show it to them, and will want to watch your throat work as you ingest their spunk.”
Shaking her head, she protested, “No! I can’t bear having anything leak from my ass! What if—”
He interrupted. “We’ll make sure you’re clean inside before the party. We can get the stuff doctors have patients drink before a lower GI endoscopy, or I can help you with enemas. Either way, you’ll be squeaky clean and only cum will dribble.”
Cara couldn’t breathe. It was her fantasy — paid, objectified, used as a party favor. And to require this of her, too? Cleaning her out first so there wouldn’t be a mess would objectify her even more.
Her heart fell to her stomach as it occurred to her that, once married, sex with others would be adultery. Was this a test to see if she was worthy of becoming his wife? To find out if she’d liked it too much before?
“No. Thanks for offering, and for trying to fulfill my fantasy, but I don’t want to risk hurting our relationship. Marriage means just you and me, no one else.”
“It means whatever we want,” he said as he stroked her cheek and pulled her into his embrace. “We can write our own vows. You can promise to never have sex with anyone unless I arrange it. I can swear to never do anything with another woman without your assent. I want your pussy all to myself but there are millions of other ways I can allow men and women to objectify you. I’m going to love watching you taken repeatedly in the mouth and ass.” He kissed the top of her head before lifting her chin, and peered into her eyes as if scrutinizing her reaction before saying. “I’ll always want to be there, to watch and supervise, though.”
He pulled back from the hug, grasping her hand and lacing their fingers together as he fondled her ring finger with his other hand. “As for fantasies, maybe I miss the power trip of paying people to accept taboo excesses upon their bodies and minds?” His gaze met hers, emotion spilling from his countenance. “Perhaps I want this one thing I pay you to do, that you’ll only do if there’s enough money in it for you. I can assure you it won’t be easy and you’ll have to work for your paycheck. Maybe the fantasy gives both of us something we need.”
Cara almost laughed at the irony of having more money in the bank than she knew what to do with. She was making more than ever and her only expenses were insurance, gas, art supplies, and some clothes and shoes here and there for all the social occasions life with Travis brought. She purchased groceries sometimes, as it was the only household expense she’d figured a way to contribute, though Travis hated when she did. The Arts Council had done so much to give her a good start; it’d be nice to help them. Yeah, she’d love to hand them a ten thousand dollar check.
She looked up at him, smiling. “When’s the party?”
“Not quite three months away. Do you want to get married now, or wait two and a half months?”
Hah! So that was the second part, his way of convincing her to marry him sooner rather than later. She was okay with it though — she wanted to be his wife and loved the idea of calling him her husband. Raising her eyes to his she smiled and said, “I want to honeymoon on a warm sandy beach somewhere. I’m not picky about when, so how long will you need to plan our dream trip? We can stop in Vegas and get married on the way to wherever you book us.”
He flipped his tablet to the browser and opened a travel search engine. “You okay to go to Vegas tomorrow? That way we can be sure no one sees the ring on your finger and annoys you with questions.”
The End
ABOUT CANDACE BLEVINS
Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world.
She lives with her husband of 14 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.
Candace writes romance books about characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show people who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work.
You can visit her on the web at candaceblevins.com and kinkyeverafter.com .
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By Candace Blevins
He released her ankles from her wrists, but left her bound wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle. A rope had been thrown over the beam running across the porch, and he used it to tie her arms over her head, threading it through her cuffs and expertly knotting it. Stepping back, he dried himself while looking at her appraisingly, but didn’t say anything. He’d taken the condom off at some point and his cock was semi-hard. Sam watched as he walked to a side table and picked up a large flogger, and then lost her view of him as he stepped behind her.
The rope above her didn’t let her stand flat footed, she was up on her toes and she knew her calves would be hurting before this was over. The rope had a knot she could grab onto with her hands to take some of her weight, and she knew he’d done that on purpose. She wanted this, wanted to hurt, wanted him to hurt her, wanted him to own her in this way, too. He’d said he was going to flog her until his arms were tired, that could be a very long time. It was raining harder now, a true downpour, what her grandfather would have called a toad strangler. The wind was blowing and every once in a while she felt a mist from the rain blowing in. Not enough to wet her, just a warm light mist on her front.
She heard the flogger swishing through the air and then felt it as she heard the crash of the strands on her back. He set up a rhythm right away. Swish, crash. Swish, crash. Sometimes it hit flat and the thud of it knocked her forward. Sometimes the tips landed and set her skin on fire in more than a dozen spots. She knew he was doing it on purpose, because he kept it balanced — right flat, left flat. Then a while later — right tips, left tips. Swish, crash. Swish, crash. He spent time on her upper back and on her ass, avoiding her kidneys in between. She felt it when the endorphins kicked in, felt her muscles relaxing. She rode the feelings, going from dealing with the pain, to accepting the pain, to finally craving the pain, wanting the next stroke. Needing the next stroke.
“Harder. I need more. It’s not enough, Sir. Please.” Her voice didn’t sound the way she was used to hearing it.
He stopped and walked away, then walked back. The next stroke was what she’d asked for, and it was with a different flogger. She felt the knots in this one; felt them hitting her skin, dragging across it, raising welts in their path. It was perfect, exactly what she needed. She moaned in ecstasy, and then she realized he hadn’t hit her hard the first time — he’d been testing to see how she was going to handle this flogger. Now he was putting muscle into it.
A thunderclap sounded in the distance and it was perfect, Mother Nature lashing them with rain and thunder, and Ethan lashing her in the midst of it. She grabbed onto the knot above her, raising herself up, feeling the burn in her arms as she relieved a little of the burn in her calves, and the flogging went on and on in a perfect rhythm. Swish, crash. Swish, crash. Her back and ass were on fire, her body was like a lit fuse, she needed to come but had no way to do it. Yes, she did. She squeezed her legs together, trying to get enough sensation on her clit to get herself off, and still the flogging continued, the knots striking and dragging.
The thunder and lightning were getting closer, the rain was more ferocious, the warm wind misting her almost constantly now. Swish, crash. Swish, crash. She heard him yell when the thunder roared, but didn’t know what he’d yelled. In between the thunder and the wind she could hear herself giving moans and groans, gasping the humid air in, screaming it out. The pain was exquisite; the burn had turned her back and ass into a large throbbing sex organ, the caress of the flogger making her more and more raw.
She relaxed her hands, let more of her weight go to her calves once again, and then he was behind her, releasing her ankles from each other and lifting her up, sitting her down on his cock and pushing her down onto it. She hadn’t expected it, but it was perfect, this primal claiming. She reached for the knot above her hands again, not because she needed to relieve the weight distribution anymore, she just needed something to hold into.
He fucked her like a madman. She came twice, her orgasm rolling through and over and around her as he played her body, his cock going in and out, his hands and gravity controlling where her body was.
Just as another peal of thunder reverberated against the mountain, shaking the house, the floor of the porch, the rope… he came with a roar she felt more than heard, his chest to her back, and she came with him, her orgasm rolling through her body as the thunder had rolled through the sky.
As Sam was coming back to herself, once her orgasm had finally subsided, she felt Ethan reach up and release her cuffs from the rope above her head. He slowly sank to the floor with her in his arms and gently maneuvered her onto her back, leaning over her and kissing her like a man possessed.
YOU’VE REACHED
“THE END!”
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Safeword: Quinacridone Page 35