by Rachel Nixx
Of course I could trust him.
Right?
The waiter came back and presented Jake with his espresso and a blade that looked like it was made to cleave a pig in two. My breathing went shallow again.
“Perfect. Thanks.”
I waited, my spine perfectly straight, as Jake doctored his espresso again. The clink of his spoon on the inside of his cup was, strangely, one of the most erotic noises I’d ever heard.
He took his time drinking. His eyes met mine from time to time, and when they did, I saw a flash there—a spark—something I’d never seen in him before. Jake was totally in control, damn him. The knife, sitting on the table between us, made me want to scream. And that was the point, I guess. I couldn’t scream. I could only make whuffling noises, and I’d be damned if I let him hear that from me. I ran my tongue over a ridge in the rubber and then rested my tongue on the ball.
Well, hell. I’d signed up for this.
I could take it.
“There,” Jake said, nodding in apparent satisfaction. “That’s what I was waiting to see on your face. Now we can move on with your training.”
Until that moment, he hadn’t called it that.
It made it even more real.
He picked up the knife and held it lightly in his hand as if testing its weight. “You look gorgeous, you know. I’m glad I chose that top. It suits you. It’s too bad you’ll never wear it again.”
I frowned in confusion.
“Stay very still.”
I sucked a breath in through my nose as he moved the knife closer and closer to my torso. As I thought I might die of fright, he angled the blade so it caught the hem of my shirt. With one quick motion, he slit it all the way up to the neckline. “I can’t, after all, just take it off you.” He motioned to my hands, still pinned behind me. “So it’s the knife or nothing.” He made quick work of the top’s wide straps, and my shirt fell to the ground. The cool air felt good against my heated skin, but I knew that to sit in the square in only my lace bra and a short black skirt was going to make an even bigger spectacle. Behind me, I heard the click of a camera.
I kept my chin high, though. I could do this.
Then Jake moved the knife down again, slipping the cold blade between the waistband of my skirt and my skin. “You’ll have to stand for this part, pet. Don’t want to risk injuring anything of true value.”
I stood carefully, wobbling only a little.
With a ripping sound, he slit my skirt. It whispered to the ground. Now I was only in my underwear. And it was official: everyone was watching now. Two young women cackled and then imitated my surprised expression, their mouths wide, pretending to talk around invisible gags.
“That’s so much better. Now everyone can enjoy what you look like. God, your ass looks great in that thong. Good choice of underwear. If you’d chosen badly, I’d have had to punish you. Oh, what the hell, I’ll punish you no matter what.” Jake laughed.
I’d heard that laugh so often—when I’d beaten him at poker, when he’d kicked my ass at pool. I’d heard him laugh hundreds of times, but I’d never heard it exactly like this.
He was delighted with me, and it felt great.
“Now,” he said. “Are you comfortable?” He tested the silk knots that bound my wrists together. “Is that loose enough for you?”
I nodded. It was, actually. I could admit to myself that it felt kind of wonderful to be like this, my arms behind me, my breasts out for anyone to enjoy how they looked in lace.
“Glad to know that. Because they shouldn’t be comfortable. That’s the last thing I want for you.” And with that, he tugged the knots on the silk so that my wrists burned. He used the long ties that had been trailing to further bind my forearms, bringing them closer together behind me. I swallowed the cry that pressed against the gag. My breasts went higher as my back arched to accommodate the new position of my arms.
Jake walked in front of me and raked his gaze across me. I thanked God I’d decided to put on underwear that morning—for a moment when I’d been getting into the clothes he’d chosen for me, I’d considered going commando to surprise him. I couldn’t bear the thought of being even more exposed than I already was.
“Now we walk,” he said, throwing money onto the table and nodding in the waiter’s direction. The waiter grinned back and stared at my tits as if he had every right to. And I suppose he did. I was here, outside, wearing nothing but underwear and...what was Jake getting out now?
Straightening, he smiled as he showed me another leather strap. “You don’t walk a whore without a leash. You can’t trust them.”
The spot between my legs throbbed harder as he spoke, but I was damned if I’d let him know the idea of being on leash turned me on so much. I kept my eyes forward and my chin up.
“That’s a good girl. Who wants a collar, then? You do?”
Shit. He knew I wanted it.
The leather was tight around my throat but not uncomfortable. As he fastened it, he caressed the skin just under my chin. “It’s like you were made to wear this, my pet,” he said softly in my ear as my insides fluttered. “Who knew you’d be such a good, obedient little thing?” He snapped a leash onto the metal ring at my neck and tugged softly.
I didn’t move. I felt frozen. At least there weren’t many people in this square. And strangely, most of them had gone back to whatever they were doing, chatting with friends and drinking wine. Some still watched—mostly men—but even they watched half-heartedly now, smoking cigarettes and laughing with each other.
But if we left the square, who would we run into? Who would see me like this? No one I knew, of course, but the idea of housewives walking to market and witnessing this humiliation suddenly burned in my veins.
He tugged the leash harder. My neck and head moved forward but my feet stayed stubbornly in place.
“Oh, it’s going to be like that, is it? Silly girl.” Quickly, Jake pulled out a chair at a table occupied by two business men, sat in it, and then yanked so hard on the leash that I toppled over, face down right onto his lap, which was probably exactly what he’d been going for. The man a foot away from me gave a guttural roar of laughter.
But his laugh was drowned in my ears as soon as Jake hit my ass. A solid smack that shook me to my ankles, he followed it up with another one. Open-handed, he rained blows on my bare bottom faster than I could count in my mind. Five, six, seven. The pain burned but not as much as the humiliation I felt now that both men were roaring with laughter. Eleven, twelve, thirteen.
“That’s right,” said Jake, breathing harder now. “Twenty slaps for your stubbornness.” They laughed harder. I squirmed against him, wishing I could get up, wishing I could run, wishing to become invisible.
Instead, the man in the black leather shoes (all I could see now my face was so close to the ground), moved to stand next to Jake. No, surely he wouldn’t ask—
“Jauks pakaļpuse,” the man said.
Jake said, “Agreed.”
Another blow hit my ass, much harder, much heavier than Jake’s had been. I could feel the weight of a large ring and knew it would leave a mark. Not only that, but the man left his hand where it lay, his fingers curling into my ass cheek. Any minute Jake would tell him to stop, to remove his skin from mine.
Jake said something to him, something I couldn’t understand, and the man laughed again. Another blow. I didn’t know how many more I could take. My ass was on fire. One more heavy slap followed. My tongue slid over the gag. If I could spit it out, then I could scream, then I could make the man—this stranger—stop.
But I couldn’t spit it out. And I didn’t shake my head.
With one last resounding slap, the man sat down, apparently satisfied.
“Good girl,” said Jake. “Very good, to let him touch you like that. Let’s go see what other trouble we can get into, you think?”
He helped me stand, grinning when he saw that my legs were trembling. He ran a hand over my heated ass. “Tender? But
we’re just getting started. This time, I think you’ll walk when I tell you to, won’t you?”
Blinking back tears I wouldn’t let fall, I nodded.
“I thought so.”
The tug on the leash was gentle this time. Hobbled as I was by the chain, I could only take small steps.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll go slowly. You want to let all the shopkeepers get a good look at you, right?”
Step by step, I clinked behind him as we made our way to the corner. Keep going, I begged in my head. Straight ahead the road veered into what looked like a quiet street lined with houses. But if he turned right or left, we’d be on what appeared to be the main drag. Shopfronts stood shoulder to shoulder, selling meat, fruit, and vegetables. Drugstores, bars, and restaurants all had their doors wide open in the afternoon sun, and the sidewalks were full of people.
Of course he turned left.
“I have to see a man I know, he’s just down this way,” said Jake. “You don’t mind if I do a little business while we’re out?”
It wasn’t really a question. I blinked. He was in charge. My stomach still roiled at the thought, but I walked as proudly as I could in the sky-high heels. An older woman wearing a blue dress covered with a yellow apron came out of the butcher shop on the corner. She flapped a towel in the air, and as she caught sight of me, she flapped it harder.
“She thinks you’re gorgeous, too,” said Jake over his shoulder. “Smile, slut.”
He knew I couldn’t.
“Hey, look at these guys coming. Let’s give ‘em a show. Head higher.” He tugged the leash again, and I raised my chin.
Six young men who’d been tumbling down the sidewalk like puppies stopped short when they saw me. One guy’s mouth fell open and another stuttered something to the person next to him. I didn’t meet their eyes, keeping mine on the neon sign above their heads.
“Nav viņa skaista?” asked Jake, and each one of them nodded slowly.
“They agree that you’re beautiful,” said Jake. He said something else, and then grinned as one of the men said something loudly to the laughter of his friends. “Stand still, pet.”
He walked behind me, leaving me with no buffer at all between me and the men. Men—these were barely more than boys. They couldn’t have been much more that twenty, if that. A female shopper bustled past us, her arms weighted with grocery bags. She clicked her tongue at the boys and scowled at me.
In front of me, the group moved from side to side, shifting their weight. One young man was as pale as a ghost, and he didn’t lift his eyes from my bra as he took out his cell phone to snap a picture.
“Smile around the gag for the camera,” said Jake softly behind me. Then I felt him lean forward and put one arm around me, reaching to touch my breasts.... No, to the spot between my breast....
Then he touched the clasp of my front-closure bra. Oh, shit. No, no, no...
He did it. He unsnapped my bra, which, due to how my aching arms were pulled back, sprang open, releasing my breasts. He slid the straps back and down and then twisted the bra itself so my arms were tugged back another inch. My breasts rode higher, and in the cold air, I felt my nipples get even harder than they’d been before.
The group couldn’t have been happier with this turn of events, giggling and pressing buttons on their phones.
Jake said, “You like what you see? You like these tits? When you get a pair of tits like these boys, you know what you do?” He said something in their language and then spoke in English again. “You touch. You make her feel good, because when she feels good, you feel good.” He translated this to them.
While they watched, their eyes bright with excitement, Jake touched the side of my right breast, lightly but firmly, and I sucked spittle around the ball gag. He lifted my left breast next, and then moved back and forth between the two, lifting the round weight, letting them bounce before he’d catch it again with another grab. “See, boys? Isn’t that pretty, the way she pulls backward—“ he gave my leash a tug “—yet you control her so that she can’t. You guys want to try?”
Surely he wouldn’t just let them touch me. Not here, as shoppers bustled by?
Jake gave a direction, and they queued into a surprisingly neat line. I still couldn’t believe this was happening. Above, the sky was a pale blue punctuated by fine, white clouds. The sound of the river burbled behind us. A woman carrying a fat baby barely gave us a glance. Did this happen all the time here? Did no one see me? The truth was, I didn’t want anyone to stop what Jake was doing. But maybe I wanted someone to try.
The first boy, a beefy guy with an eighties-style flat-top, reached forward eagerly. He was breathing heavily as he touched my nipple.
Jake only laughed. “That’s right, big boy.”
The man then twisted my nipple lightly. I shut my eyes against him but Jake said, “Eyes open, please. I want you to see who I allow to touch you.”
It wasn’t painful, but the leer in the young man’s eyes made my breath catch. He finally let my nipple go and I felt my nostrils flare as I struggled to take in enough air. What if I ended up crying? What if my nose filled with tears? How would I breathe?
More hands now. Soft touches, whispered words. Jake let everyone in the short line touch me somewhere—one was especially bold and touched the top of my panties, but Jake said something to him sharply, and he pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned. Two of them looked similar enough to be brothers—long teeth and shaggy hair, they couldn’t have been more than seventeen. Jake gave them instructions I couldn’t understand. They stood in front of me, so close I could smell them—tea and bread and sweat. Simultaneously, they leaned forward and suckled my nipples, and the erotic shock of it connected in a direct line to my clit.
“Okay, good job, guys. Thank you.” Jake held out a few bills to each of them. He was paying them? The humiliation burned even fiercer. They continued down the sidewalk, talking loudly in the macho, pleased tones of young men worldwide.
“Those last two gave me an idea,” said Jake while reaching in his bag. He held up a shiny chain. Two small silver clamps hung from either end.
He didn’t go slowly. Jake was no twenty-year-old boy full of nerves. He grabbed a nipple and forced the clamp around it. He let go, and the clamp closed with such tightness that I was suddenly flooded with white heat. Though my eyes were open, I couldn’t see for a moment. All went bright, and noises were so loud inside my head that I could hear the chatter of the birds on the pole overhead and the heated conversation the grocer was having with an old man.
I didn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. All I felt was pain. I drove my teeth as hard as I could into the rubber as a guttural scream burned the back of my throat.
“Nice, slut. You look great. One more.” He put the other clamp on, but this time I was a little more ready for the pain that roared toward me as the clamp self-tightened.
“And now we walk.” He pulled my leash (when had I started thinking about it as mine?) and I followed, my feet stumbling as my stilettos caught in the cobblestones. I still held my head high, a point of stubborn pride. Even with the burning at my nipples that was only now starting to subside into bearability, I could keep my head up. Even though I only wore a black lace thong, as least I had a piece of clothing. I wasn’t totally exposed. I hid behind this thought as if it could save me.
I knew, though, that nothing could save me now. Not really. For the first time since I was... Well, for the first time in a long time, I was completely powerless. I wasn’t kicking ass now, couldn’t have done a single move even if Jake would have let me. And I absolutely couldn’t tell how I felt about it.
I just kept walking. Head up.
Jake strode ahead of me, nodding cordially to people who reacted with surprise at our little two-person parade. He exchanged a few words with a man rolling up an awning at a jewelry store, and I cringed, wondering what he’d make this man do to me. But instead, we continued walking. Jake didn’t acknowledge me at al
l now, hadn’t spoken to me in three blocks.
I stumbled on a broken cobblestone that tipped as I stepped on it, and my legs danced double-time. I must have looked like a newborn foal, limbs flailing. But Jake didn’t even turn around, just tugged the leash harder as if I’d done it on purpose.
He stopped in front of a cafe. Large windows showed the inside was packed with people standing to drink their coffees. Still without saying anything, he led me inside.
Conversation was loud inside, and my cheeks blazed as the chatter dropped to nothing as they realized, one by one, that I’d just walked in. Again, I heard that light, amused titter, the same tone the people’d had in the square. One woman said something that was obviously accusatory and stalked out, but the rest stayed. I felt their curious gazes as clearly as if they’d reached out to touch me.
Jake didn’t even meet my eyes now. He tugged me to the side where people stood, placing their drinks on a long shelf. He looped the leash around the coat hook below it and walked away from me, not looking back. He went through a doorway draped with a red fabric panel and I saw his feet going up a flight of stairs.
I was alone.
Alone, almost naked, in a crowd of total, complete strangers.
My shoulders ached and my wrists were going numb behind me. I made my hands into fists and then starfished them out, feeling pins and needles as the circulation came back. I kept my chin up even though it trembled with the tears I refused to shed. How long would he be gone? How long would I stand here like this?
I turned and stared at the leash that trailed around the hook. It wasn’t affixed tightly, almost as if Jake had given me a challenge. If I backed up and tugged, I knew I could get free.
But then what? I could run out of this cafe, and what? Run through a city I didn’t know searching for a hotel whose name I couldn’t even remember? Hope that someone had mercy on me and took the ball gag out of my mouth, and then what? I didn’t speak a word of the language. And I’d still be bound and shackled, wearing only a pair of nipple clamps (which ached, oh, how they ached now) and a black lace thong.
