by Tina Donahue
“We’re waiting on parts,” the mechanic shouted over the noise of drills and metal clangs. “While we’ve got your vehicle here, you might want to consider a new transmission too. The one you got isn’t going to last that long.”
She covered her eyes with her hand. “Aren’t transmissions like thousands of dollars?”
“Yep. But your vehicle won’t operate without one. At least think about it.”
Jodi did little else until everyone started clearing out. It was time to close?
Hilary slammed the top of her makeup case shut and locked it. Cait kicked a stool out of the way. It tottered and fell over. She kicked it again with her biker boots then took the props Mac had used and dropped them on one of the tables. Without saying a word to each other, she and Hilary stomped out.
Jodi wondered what they’d fought about and how she could have missed it. Neither of them was good at hiding her feelings.
Viv stopped at Jodi’s desk. She wore snug jeans and a lacy, off-the-shoulder top that exposed her taut torso. Pulling her iPhone from her ear, she said, “I’m booked for tomorrow too, right?”
Jodi checked and nodded.
“Hey, sweetie,” Viv said into her phone. “Mama’s gonna be home in a few minutes. Did you treat your baby sister good today?” She listened then laughed at whatever her older kid had said.
Surprised that Viv had children, Jodi studied the young woman’s shapely ass as she left.
“See ya,” Rocco said and hurried off, clawing his butt. The leather pants were still giving him trouble.
“Have a good one,” Jodi offered then shot to the door and locked it.
Alone at last with Mac and her future. Maybe. She edged toward the package. He came around the corner that led to his office and offered her a box cutter.
“Ready to operate?”
She turned the cutter in her hand. “I feel like that scene in Alien before the monster pops out of the guy’s chest.”
“Oh yeah.” Mac grinned, his gaze turned inward as though he was picturing the moment. “That was cool. Saw it when I was five or six with one of my nannies. Scared the crap out of her.”
“You had a nanny?” Jodi frowned. “She let you see that stuff when you were a little kid?”
He scratched his neck. “Hey, she remembered to feed me. That’s all I cared about.”
“Didn’t your parents take care of you at all?”
“Sure. They hired the nannies. Are you really that interested in my childhood or are you stalling?”
Jodi figured it was a little of both.
“You don’t want to do this?” Mac asked.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. I need some time. I want to see what I’d have to wear. Or not wear,” she mumbled.
Nodding agreeably, Mac placed her hand on the box. “Then you’re going to have to open this.”
Jodi took far more care than when she’d torn into her Christmas and birthday gifts as a child. Those, she’d known, had held wondrous delights. This might scare the crap out of her. Cautiously, she folded back the flaps and forced herself to peek inside. Her shoulders sagged. More boxes.
Mac parked his ass on the corner of her desk. “At this rate we’ll be done around midnight or so.”
Ignoring him, Jodi gently lifted the edge of the top box.
“Whoa—wait,” he suddenly barked.
She flinched and stepped back. “Why?”
“It might explode. Think we should call the bomb squad before you go any further—hey!” He rubbed his arm where she’d slapped it. “What did I tell you about that?” He pushed away from the desk and stalked toward her.
Jodi edged back, her pulse hammering hard in her temples and throat. “Shouldn’t we be opening the boxes?”
“Too late for that now.”
More easily than she would have believed possible, Mac grabbed her wrist, dragged her to the sofa and over his knee. Her hair swung forward, skimming her cheeks. He had her jeans and panties down in a flash. Coolish air glanced off her bare ass. Her cunt got even wetter. She squealed in delight.
Quiet,” he ordered and paddled her. Hard, precise smacks that rang through the room, matching the erotic beat of the jazz he’d put on.
Unspeakable sensations roared through her. Excitement, arousal, brief stings then rolling warmth.
Jodi clutched his calf. His muscles flexed. She grunted lewdly. Mac made his own noises, male and uninhibited, while he paddled her until he was breathing damn hard. At last he sagged against the sofa, his hand on her furrow, fingers exploring the crease.
She shivered at the spectacular feelings that darted through her. Wicked and wild. “Thanks.”
Chuckling, he stroked her dewy cunt then her anus. Jodi trembled.
He murmured, “You have to keep being bad.”
She laughed.
Mac hauled her up. Wobbly, Jodi tottered. He settled her on the sofa, pulled off her sandals and tossed them aside. They hit the floor with a solid clunk-clunk. He stripped off her jeans and panties next, dropping them at his feet. Taking both her hands, he pulled her from the sofa and toward the box.
“This time I’m going to help,” he said.
She stood aside as he opened the first box just as a man would, without any hesitation or regret. Peeling away the tissue paper, he uncovered an absolutely gorgeous black mask that had a dated look about it. Surrounding the leather were delicate black feathers, rosettes of velvet and lace, and ornate beadwork. Oddly enough, the materials gave the item a fragile yet brutal appearance that whispered BDSM.
Her belly quivered. She snatched the next box. Beneath its tissue paper was a lacy black thong that tied up the front and back with dainty pink ribbons. Again, a slightly dated look. The faint scent of jasmine floated toward her, its fragrance rich and exotic.
Mac pulled a leather thong from the next box and peeked through the long opening in the crotch. Exquisite lace and glittering black beads edged it, lending an old-fashioned feel to the slit that not only displayed a woman’s cunt but invited access to it. “Damn, this is great.”
Jodi laughed. Together, they tore through the box, uncovering stuff she’d never seen before.
“What is this?” She held up what looked to be a leather thong, no lace this time. There was an area cut out in front in the shape of a teardrop, which separated the edges of the waistband. A small silver padlock, beautifully engraved, held them together. Running from the lock was a silvery chain that followed the crotch and attached to another engraved padlock in the back.
Mac read the advertising piece in the box. “It’s a chastity belt.”
“No shit? That’s primeval.”
He nodded. “I definitely want to see you in this.” Settling it on his head like a hat, he dug for more treasure.
Despite the obvious sexism in a modern-day chastity belt and all this other stuff, Jodi couldn’t deny her excitement. She stopped breathing when Mac reached one of the more decadent items—a vintage-looking garter belt with leather slave bracelets attached. Once the Dom had secured his sub’s wrists, she couldn’t move her arms as he used her breasts or cunt.
Mac whistled in appreciation.
Jodi swallowed hard at the “spanking” corset, a leather-and-lace piece that hugged a woman’s waist and tied in the back with a black satin ribbon. Two adjustable leather straps supported the woman’s butt cheeks.
Plumping and displaying them for the Master’s use, the accompanying note read.
Fitted to the side of the corset were slave bracelets, just like the ones on the garter belt, so the sub wouldn’t be able to cover her ass and protect herself from her Dom’s discipline.
Mac grinned broadly until he noticed Jodi watching. Killing his smile, he actually blushed. “Too much?”
Strangely enough, no. “I think I like it,” she murmured.
Laughing, he hugged her hard then pulled out the rest of the stuff. There was a satin-and-leather harness that accentuated a woman’s breasts and cunt. G-strings, br
as and vests constructed of nothing but chains that were provocative yet menacing. Leather bras without cups. Wide leather slave bracelets with metal rings to secure them to each other or to whatever the Dom wanted. Marcasite clip-on nipple rings—again with a vintage flair—for those too timid to get their tips pierced. Opera-length leather gloves that laced up the inside with red ribbons. Thigh-high leather boots with five-inch heels that definitely weren’t from times gone by.
Then finally a piece that truly dazzled Jodi.
And apparently left Mac speechless.
Like most of the other garments, this one was made of leather with a touch of satin and lace. It had a wide collar that would completely cover a woman’s throat, along with a marcasite belt and buckle that secured the collar to the cincher. Slave bracelets for a woman’s biceps attached to rings on the sides of the article. The Dom could secure the wrist slave bracelets to the many rings on the sides, front or back, wherever he might want his sub’s hands secured. In front, the garment stopped just above a female’s mound. There, another marcasite buckle held a leather band that was wide enough to cover her cleft. In the back, the band separated into two narrow strips that cupped a woman’s cheeks, leaving her ass bare and accessible.
Finished with reading the advertising piece, Mac handed the card to Jodi.
Blood whooshed in her ears. Apparently this was a combination restraint and chastity belt that left a woman’s rear exposed for punishment or a Dom’s pleasure.
“What do you think?” Mac said.
Jody nearly laughed. Thinking wasn’t something she was able to do right now. Too many emotions assaulted her. Most of them surprisingly wicked. “What do you think?”
He studied the restraint-chastity belt-cincher. “Fucking cool. I’ve seen things similar to this before, but never so nice or vintage, like something out of Queen Victoria’s secret stash. This is actually pretty stylish.”
She giggled. “I can just see me walking into a restaurant in that.”
Mac sighed wistfully. “You’d wear it beneath your clothes for later.” Pleasure swept his handsome features. “And then maybe I’d follow you to the ladies’ room. You’d have to submit to me there while a bunch of people were just beyond the door.”
The needy ache in her cunt was starting to get bad. She pictured him disciplining her by the sinks, the long mirror reflecting the wanton act. With her slit covered so chastely, he’d have no alternative except to plow into her anus to relieve his carnal desires. Even with the voices outside, he wouldn’t hurry. He’d take whatever he wanted with all the masculine power he owned.
“Ready?” he asked huskily.
Jodi regarded the articles of clothing spread across her desk like a catalogue of bad deeds, one more depraved and exciting than the other. “What should I wear first?”
Mac handed her the elaborate cincher and thigh-high boots. Jodi picked up the mask then considered something she hadn’t before. “About my hair.”
“I’ll make it long like I did in the other photos.”
“I meant between my legs.”
Mac’s attention drifted there. Given his expression, Jodi sensed her curls were damp with excitement that he could see.
“I can Photoshop them off,” he said, then cleared his throat. His voice had gotten even huskier. “It’s difficult but not impossible.”
“It’d take long?”
He nodded.
“Do you want me to get a wax?”
Mac’s complexion darkened with what looked to be lust. “You wouldn’t mind?”
Not if he liked her as bare as Krista and the other models were. “It might be nice.”
Nodding slowly, he ran his fingers over the line of her jaw. Tingles rippled across Jodi’s cheek and down her throat. “You’re going to do this?” he asked. “You’re sure…you’re comfortable?”
“I want to throw up but I’m also excited,” she added quickly at his concerned expression. “Help me to do it right.”
He hesitated then nodded. “Absolutely. We’ll do a few shots tonight. After you get waxed tomorrow, we’ll have to wait a day or two if your skin is irritated.”
“You can’t Photoshop that out?”
“Sure. But I don’t want to rush you.”
Mac’s sweet concern touched Jodi deeply but she didn’t want to wait. All her life, she’d weighed every pro and con of what she should or shouldn’t do. In the end, she’d done very little except get an education and go to work. Fun, lust, reckless excitement had never been in the mix. During these last few days, she’d crossed several lines and didn’t want to stop and run back to her formerly safe and boring existence. “Let’s do this. Every freaking night if we have to until you have what you need.”
Surprise and wonder shone in his eyes. “Damn, I’m going to hold you up to the others as the way a model should be.”
“No.” She rested her hand on his chest. “I don’t want anyone but you and me to know about this. It’s between us.”
Mac took her hand and rubbed the back of it against his beard-roughened cheek. “I was just kidding. Only you, Quinn and I will see the photos.”
“Along with everyone who has access to the Internet.”
He kissed the tips of her fingers. “You’re absolutely certain about this? I can get another model to—“
“Quinn described me as the woman he wanted.” That was definitely a first for him to request anyone specifically. Another first was what Jodi had decided to do.
* * * * *
Mac lowered the blinds over the windows. Something he’d never done before. Even when it was dark outside with the lights on in here, his equipment was set up in a distant corner of the spacious room. Far enough away so no one outside on the sidewalk could possibly see what went on in here.
He wasn’t certain whether the blinds made him or Jodi feel better and didn’t care. It was simply something he had to do.
Jodi’s desk was also away from the windows and prying eyes. She sat in her chair, wonderfully naked, regarding the thigh-high boots as she would a torture device. Trooper that she was, she slipped them on.
“I’ll lace them.” Mac sank to one knee and tugged gently on the black satin ribbons, tying them in bows at the top. He rested his hand on the inside of her leg. “Feel all right?”
She touched his thumb, her fingers moving with it as he stroked her upper thigh near her cunt. “Amazing.”
Smiling, he lifted the cincher. “Ready for this?”
“Sure. Why not?” Jodi pushed to her feet and swayed on the boots.
“I have you.” He slipped his arm around her waist and walked her around the desk until she got used to the heels.
“This is like learning to ice skate,” she said. “How can any woman be turned-on in these things?”
“I don’t think women are the ones who’re supposed to be aroused by them.”
“No kidding.” After pulling in a deep breath, she sighed it out. “Let’s get me in that vintage straitjacket.”
Mac laughed. They both howled as he struggled to get it on her. There were so many buckles, rings and laces he was sweating by the time he had her in the thing, her hands bound in front beneath her breasts. Mac wiped off his brow with the back of his hand.
“No wonder they had so many servants in the past. It must have taken a whole horde of them to get women into these things.”
Still giggling, Jodi sagged against him, fingers pressed to his chest. “You all hot and bothered yet?”
Mac’s shoulders shook with more laughter. When he’d played these games in the past, he’d made do with his few ties as restraints or as a blindfold, and had used his hand to administer a good spanking. The strap, manacles and other stuff he’d used for his photos had always stayed here, ignored or forgotten. “I’m getting there. Can you walk on your own yet?”
Jodi pushed away from him, tottered a few steps then righted herself. “It’s a miracle!”
Mac bent at the waist, he was laughing so hard. “Fu
ck, we have to be serious about this.”
“Okay. Chain me to the post like you did Viv earlier, then take the strap to me.”
Sobering quickly, Mac went to Jodi. “What?”
“Discipline me just like a Dom would. I’m not an actress. Hell, I’m not even a model. Getting into character is the only way I’m going to have the right look for this.”
He regarded the cincher that cruelly plumped her breasts and narrowed her waist despite its pretty satin and lace embellishments. Stray reddish curls peeked from the crotch, the leather so supple it revealed the outline of her soft folds. Her nipples were tight as could be, arms and hands restricted. The perfect sub, unable to protect herself from her Master’s domination and discipline.
Mac’s cock stirred. “You don’t need a right look.” He cleared the roughness from his voice. “I’m not shooting your face.”
“Sure you are, just like on Quinn’s site. Even when I have the mask on, the shot will show my eyes and mouth. Nothing’s more expressive than someone’s eyes. That’s how you described mine. I didn’t see that in the photos you took of me. I looked as if I was about to hurl. I want this to be right.” She pressed into him. “I want to look really hot. Truly submissive. Yours to do with as you please.”
He cupped Jodi’s chin, wanting her so badly it was an effort to speak. “Are you sure?”
She smiled. “Take off my glasses, put the mask on me then do what a Dom’s supposed to with the strap.”
Mac couldn’t have looked more amazed and pleased. His expression grew intense, his restraint a distant memory. He put Jodi’s glasses in the top drawer of her desk then fitted the mask to her face and adjusted the strap in back. They were so close, his lovely bulge snuggled against her ass.
Resting his chin on her shoudler as he had when they’d been looking at Quinn’s website, Mac plucked her nipples. A slew of depraved sensations raced through Jodi, pulling a helpless moan from her that felt so damn right.
Grinding his cock against her butt, he murmured, “Tight enough?”
Jodi sagged against his hard chest. “My nipples can’t get any harder.”