Bound and Freed Boxed Set

by Nikki Sex

  Kelly cried out, and the walls of her sex pulsed, but she didn't climax.

  John hissed, and bit his lip. Shit! The muscles of her cunt had tightened like a vice and he almost shot his load. Warm, wet, swollen.

  My God, this feels divine.

  The sensation of his shaft deep in her heated, molten core made him throb and twitch. John was barely able to withhold his orgasm. Once he had stretched her, he remained perfectly still, certain that he would climax if he moved at all.

  Kelly gasped and moaned, "Oh, John. Yes! Oh, please, please, please," she sobbed and begged, trying to thrust against him. John simply pushed her more firmly against the wall, holding her still.

  "You have amazing control, Kelly," John praised, well aware that she may yet lose that control at any moment. "You're doing so well," he encouraged.

  Kelly was panting when she gasped breathlessly, "Thank you, John."

  "Is there anything else you want your Dom to give you, Kelly?" he said, his throat raw with sexual urgency.

  "I want your cum, John," she said desperately. "I love your cum. I want to eat it, drink it and swim in it. I love the smell, the taste and everything about it. I love it because it is yours, John, and it pleases you when I take it. Oh, God!" That last was punctuated with another roiling pre-orgasmic pulse, the walls of Kelly's sex squeezing him so tight that once more he almost ejaculated.

  "Don't move," he snapped.

  "Yes, John," she whimpered and he saw tears of longing and desperation running down her face. She was such an emotional girl.

  Panting and sweating, John held her pressed against the wall and shut his eyes struggling with his powerful urge to climax. He hadn't undressed, and between his sweat and hers, his cotton shirt was drenched. Kelly was making a continuous keening sound, and John held her jaw and put his thumb in her mouth. The noise stopped instantly as she immediately began to eagerly suck him, working his thumb as if it were his cock.

  Doubting his control, John counted to twenty, trying to catch his breath, while concentrating on her.

  Kelly was so, so soft and feminine. Soft to his male hardness. Light to his dark. Kind and happy to his anger. Cheerful and positive compared to his years of hate and despair. Kelly was all purity and goodness to John's shadowed, evil past. Kelly balanced him and made him able to see himself as something better than he had been. Someone good.

  John could feel her beautiful body quivering with desire. Her small feminine hands were holding his neck, pulling against his hair like a lifeline, and her sexual excitement and raw lust tried his control.

  This perfect woman wanted him, and she needed him. Could there be anything more arousing? Or more fulfilling?

  John took his thumb from her mouth. With a tenuous hand on his control, he squeezed and fondled both of her breasts, tugging and pulling on her nipples. Kelly whimpered, and he liked the sound so much he pulled and tugged some more, this time twisting, eliciting a number of strangled female cries. Satisfied, John's hands brushed down to grip her buttocks.

  John's lust was all consuming, and if anything his resistance was worse than ever. It was because of Kelly. Kelly tested him like no one ever had before.

  She tested him in sex, in life, in everything.

  "Kelly," he said in a husky voice. "You are going to come for me not long after I start fucking you, within a few strokes. Can you do it?"

  "Oh God yes, John! Jesus, I'd come right now if you told me to."

  John chuckled. "Me too," he confessed. "But I want it to last a little bit longer, to see if we can go together."

  Expelling a large breath of relief, like letting a bull off a chain, John let himself go. He began to thrust vigorously, pressing her against the wall, slamming into her, his hands gripping her buttocks with bruising strength, one firm, pussy-moistened finger, intentionally pressing roughly up into her puckered rear.

  Kelly sobbed and keened in a melody of diverse and desperate cries.

  Her soft flesh was willing and pliant against him, because she was his sub, and completely dominated by his will. John worried for an instant that his fiercely gripping hands may blemish her pale skin as he squeezed and pulled and strained against her, but he couldn't stop himself. His fevered hunger was frenzied, urgent and insatiable.

  Mine, he thought. Kelly is mine and I'll take her anyway I want. Every bruise is a mark of my attention. Kelly will love anything I do, because she belongs to me.

  "Oh God, John," she gasped. "Oh, please!"

  Savagely pounding into her in short, fast strokes, John ground his pubic bone into her thick, distended clit and grunted, "Come, Kelly."

  Kelly arched her hips even higher and they thrust together, her legs tightening around him and her internal walls gripped him, exerting a powerful pressure that squeezed his cock in a pulse of spasms.

  "Uh, uh, uh, oh yes, John!" she sobbed as she tensed and then thrashed like an animal caught in a trap. Kelly wailed and shrieked as she came, and came, and came.

  John shuttered and groaned, his entire body tingling from her body's climax. Chest heaving, John felt the cramping and then release of his balls and groin. Heat and pleasure exploded within, extending outwards to his entire body, thighs, buttocks, and back.

  John's head flew back and his hips thrust forward as he convulsed with a powerful orgasm. Kelly's body jerked with aftershocks as she continued to convulse around him, milking his seed.

  Panting, John rested his forehead against Kelly's, both of their faces damp with perspiration. Every single time, sex astounded him. Who could have possibly conceived of such pleasure?

  Kelly's legs dropped to the floor, and John secured her with his grip, intuitively aware that she was languid and weak and unable to stand.

  Careful, he thought holding her tightly, compelled by an urgent protective instinct to keep her safe. Boneless and exhausted, Kelly will drop to the ground like a rag doll if I don’t hold her up.

  Primitive male satisfaction slammed into him, almost taking his breath away. It was sudden, unexpected and overwhelming. It followed right behind, coming at the end of his powerful orgasm. Yet this primal natural pleasure had nothing to do with his climax.

  It was his job to hold Kelly, and to keep her from falling.

  Right then, in his heart John knew why he was here, and what his reason for living was. No matter what happened, if the walls fell down, and the earth stopped spinning, and the entire world came to an end, John was certain that nothing could stop him from holding Kelly and loving her and keeping her safe.

  Now and forever and for always.

  23. Trapped

  It was the sound that woke Kelly. A loud crackling, combined with odd little explosive noises. It was pitch dark, and smoke was everywhere, and she heard coughing, too – hers, and John's.

  Kelly's brain lurched into action.

  "Fire!" Kelly yelled and felt him in the bed beside her and began to shake him. "John, wake up!"

  "God! Kelly!" John shouted as he gripped her arm. "We have to get out!"

  Flames surrounded them then, flickering bright burning light that could be seen through the smoke. The noise was unbelievable. Kelly felt John throw the heavy blankets around her, and pull her to the floor. As Kelly fell, she heard glass break and felt the picture of John and his Aunt Brenda under her hands.

  John will be so sad if he loses every picture of his beloved Aunt Brenda, she thought.

  Instinctively Kelly picked up the frame. The glass was broken, but she clutched it against her naked body, determined that she would take at least this one photo out of the fire with her.

  John and Kelly crawled toward the front window, staying low to the floor where there was still breathable air. The window and all around them was surrounded by flames.

  "Kelly," John screamed. "It's going to hurt, and we are going to get burned, but we have to simply run. If I break the window first, the fire will explode from the extra oxygen. It will kill us. I think we should use our bodies to break the window as we j
ump out. That way we will be outside when the fire explodes. Does that sound like a plan, Kelly? Do you have a better idea?"

  "No, John. Let's go with that."

  John wrapped himself around her with the blankets covering their head. "When I say run, we stand up, and sprint right through the window together, okay? I'll be a little ahead of you, my body can break the glass for both of us, okay?"

  "Okay."

  "Take a few deep breaths, as many as you can. Now hold your breath. Ready? Run!" Together Kelly and John stood up and bounded forward in a sprint. John's hard body hit first and cracked the window as they both propelled themselves through it.

  Snap! The window fractured, and then shattered.

  Kelly felt burning pain on the soles of her feet, and up her legs.

  As soon as they broke the window a roar sounded, and flames exploded inside the house from all the oxygen in the air that rushed in through the empty window. But they were outside. The blankets were smoldering, the house was ablaze, and fuck! Kelly’s skin burned as if it was on fire, but she and John were outside and safe.

  Coughing, Kelly and John took lungfuls of fresh air, stumbling blindly away from the surrounding heat. Unexpectedly arms banded around Kelly, and pulled her away from John. Then one strong arm circled her neck.

  Confused, Kelly tried to see behind her.

  Bang!

  The sound of a gunshot surprised and confused her. How could she have heard a gun? It made no sense. This was a house fire. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she tried to process this, but she was breathless and her ears were ringing and nothing made any sense.

  Kelly looked over and saw John, down on his knees, holding his shoulder. Kelly was too confounded from smoke and burning pain to even scream.

  What the fuck?

  "Hold still or I'll shoot you, too," came a female voice behind her. Kelly felt the cool metal of a gun shoved under her throat, and saw the black barrel shining in the light of the fire from her peripheral vision.

  Kneeling about ten feet away, John had lost his blanket and was completely naked. Kelly could see blood dripping from his left shoulder like red paint slashed across a white canvas. The sight of all that blood really frightened Kelly. Jesus, John could bleed to death right in front of her eyes. While Kelly's own life was in danger, all she could think of was John.

  I won't let this crazy woman kill John, Kelly thought in sudden, urgent resolve. Where are the emergency services? Where is my security guard? John was down and injured. Kelly began to realize that everything was up to her. But what could she do?

  John looked up at Kelly and at the woman with her arm around Kelly's neck, who held a gun to her head.

  "Mother," John yelled. "What are you doing?"

  The woman behind Kelly gave a maniacal laugh. "John William Taylor it is time to die! You are a bad seed, aren't you? You thought you would get away with it, but you won't."

  Holy fuck, Kelly thought in astonishment, the nutjob who just shot John and is threatening my life is John's mom!

  "Mother," John said in a forced, calm voice. "I'm sorry. I don’t really understand. Can you tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help." John put a foot up, preparing to stand, but his mother didn’t like that.

  "Stop," she snarled. "Stay on your knees. You ruined everything, you bad boy. Master has been displeased with me. I tried to understand where I went wrong. All I ever wanted to do was please Master. Why couldn't you be a good boy? I should have left you with my older sister. I should never have taken you home."

  "Mother," John said and Kelly could hear the desperation in his voice. "Please let Kelly go."

  "No," she said with an almost childish petulance, squeezing Kelly's neck and making her wince. "You made Master hate me. I tried to get rid of you. I put Master's information in your police file, and I killed the woman. I made her call you, she told me that she wasn't your counselor, did you know that?"

  Kelly worked to filter this. John had played back Maria Lopez' phone message, but neither of them could make sense of it. Now she understood. John's mother must have been holding a gun to Maria's head at the time.

  "That woman was lying and I was going to kill her anyway," John's mother said with a giggle. "I put all the evidence in your garage. But the police were stupid. Why couldn't they see it was you? You are the one who has always ruined everything!"

  In her peripheral vision Kelly could see Mable, John's next door neighbor. Surely Mable had called the police? With a sinking heart, Kelly knew that the police wouldn’t get here in time to save her and John.

  "It all started when you wouldn’t come," John's mother said and her childish voice was heated. "Why wouldn’t you climax for Master? I sucked you good! I fucked you good! He fucked you good, too! But it was never enough for you, was it? Stupid naughty boy. Master loved only me. Then you arrived. I wish you had never been born. You made Master unhappy."

  Kelly's stunned mental state could hardly take it all in. John had told her that there was sexual abuse in his childhood, but she had always assumed that it was from his father. Now it seemed that his mother was part of it, too.

  "Where is the security guard, mother?"

  "I killed him in his car," she snarled. "And I poured gasoline all around Brenda's house. You both should have died in that fire, but this is better."

  Numb with fear and shock, when John's mother said the name Brenda, Kelly suddenly remembered Brenda's photo. It was in the frame in her hand. Kelly touched the glass, and pulled a long sharp shard of it out of the frame, holding it like a dagger. The hope it generated washed over her in a thrilling river of possibility.

  Oh God, Kelly thought in a fervent prayer. Please let me use this as a weapon. I'll only have one chance. I have to thrust this right into this insane woman's neck.

  "What are you going to do, Mother?" John asked.

  "I am going to kill this girl, because you want her, and then I am going to kill you," she said and this time her bizarre childish voice was cheerful, calm and determined.

  Kelly looked at John with wild, urgent eyes, widening and blinking, desperately trying to communicate her plan, holding the glass knife out slightly. John understood. Kelly saw immediately that John understood.

  Oh God I love you, John Taylor, she thought, shutting her eyes for a moment with relief and gratitude.

  Of course her wonderful true love understood her, gorgeous, lovable mind-reader that he was. When had he not understood her? John was so observant. He spent all his time watching, learning and working to be aware of everything about Kelly anyway, just so that he could love her more completely, and make her happier.

  John knew what to do, because he always did.

  Kelly held her makeshift knife in her fist, ready. She felt the jagged ends of it cutting into the skin of her hand and fingers, and shivered with the thought of its sharp edges slicing into flesh. Could she really do this?

  Kelly felt no uncertainty or moment of indecision. Even if wielding this makeshift knife cut all her fingers off – she didn’t care. She had to save John. But could she successfully thrust it up into his mother's neck? Because Kelly knew that she had only one shot at it. It had to be done right the first time.

  Only seconds had passed.

  With perfect understanding, John and Kelly both knew when the moment of truth had arrived. Distracting his mother, John put a foot out in order to stand once more.

  John's mother swung the gun toward him and away from Kelly's head and neck.

  Without any hesitation Kelly thrust the glass shard upwards with all her might. The desperate force of her thrust sliced into her hand, and severed the tendons in Kelly's thumb and two fingers. But it also severed the carotid artery in John's mother's throat.

  John jumped up, and the gun went off again, but the shot was wild.

  A spray of blood erupted from the woman's neck, soaking Kelly's face and chest with warm, dripping heat and the coppery smell and taste of blood. John's mother crumpled to the ground, like a broke
n doll.

  The murderer, whose mind was broken, lay still. The lifeblood of her unconscious body pumped out with every beat of her heart, until it slowed, and slowed… and then stopped all together.

  24. Brenda's Help

  Kelly ran to John as he fell back to his knees.

  "Oh God, baby," Kelly said in a panicked tone, wrapping her blanket around him and pushing the cloth of it into his wound. "Sit down, Jesus, please don’t bleed to death will you? I need you, John."

  John looked up at her with an emotionless expression and asked, "Baby?"

  Kelly laughed really loudly and it sounded totally hysterical to her ears. Of course, she had just killed someone, and was covered in her victim's blood. Also the man she loved was bleeding to death, and something was wrong with her thumb and fingers because they hurt and wouldn't move properly, and fuck, her feet and legs were burning like the very fires of hell.

  Who wouldn’t be a little hysterical after all that?

  "Yes, baby," she said, wrapping her arms around him. "You're my baby and I love you."

  "Kelly," John said in a weak voice. "How did you get the glass shard? I don’t understand."

  Kelly went and got the photo and the frame, and showed it to John. "I felt this picture as I got to the floor, just before we left the house, John. The glass was broken, but I couldn’t bear to leave Brenda there, because I know how much she means to you. I was afraid that you wouldn’t have any pictures of her left after the fire, and I knew that would make you sad. So I took her with us when we ran."

  John smiled up at her and his eyes were shining. "My beautiful, clever girl," he whispered. "You saved us both, Kelly. You and Brenda. How grateful I am, to have been loved by two of the most wonderful women in the world."

  Three fire trucks pulled up at the house, and men jumped out, wielding their fire hoses and getting instantly to work.