by Lee Taylor
Michael shifted his weight. "We haven't brought anything appropriate to wear, Frank."
Frank frowned.
Michael hoped he would keep his mouth closed long enough. "Jessie, why don't you investigate the clothing while I have a quick chat with Frank?"
Jessie looked at him curiously, but did as he asked.
Frank elbowed Michael. "Kudos, you sly devil. The collar looks great on her. Why have you sent her in to buy clothes? She won't need--"
Michael took him by the elbow and pulled him aside. "Jessie doesn't know yet what we have planned. I told you the circumstances--a previous trauma."
Frank made an a-okay sign. "Gotcha. That's why we put you in the Coach House."
Michael sent up a silent prayer of thanks. The elegant Coach House, separate from the main building, would offer just the privacy he needed. "Good thinking, Bat--"
Frank looked at him expectantly. "What?"
"Nothing. Is the Kinbaku Master here? I need to speak with him beforehand. Can you keep Jessie busy for a few minutes?"
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Jessie was relieved when Marjorie appeared, elbowing Frank out of the way. His sudden interest in helping her shop for fetish wear was a bit off-putting.
"I'd prefer not to buy another pair of those crotchless pants," she whispered to Marjorie. "It's just for tonight, to get in the club."
Marjorie eyed her curiously as she reached up to the rack of costumes. "How about this?"
The black leather teddy and matching shorts might look okay. The shorts would show off her long legs--one of her best features--and the teddy had red laces to close the front. "One size fits all," she joked. "Can I try it on?"
Frank hurried over. "You and Michael are in the Coach House for tonight's scene. Why don't you take it over there and model it for him?"
A cold hand gripped her heart. She'd learned during her first round of interviews that the Coach House was reserved for very special events. Further enquiries had been deftly evaded. "The Coach House?"
"Yes." He linked his arm in hers. "Michael's already gone over. Shall we?"
She clutched the costume. "I haven't paid for my outfit."
He took it from her, slipping it into a shopping bag. "Marjorie will put it on Michael's bill."
He escorted her quickly down the driveway to the Coach House, ushered her inside, thrust the bag into her hands and left.
She watched him waddle back up to the main house, wondering why he'd acted so strangely. She almost jumped out of her skin when someone put their hands on her shoulders. She whirled, her heart beating rapidly. "Michael. You scared me half to death."
She sagged against him, but pulled away abruptly when she realized he was naked, except for a thong--the boy toy kind--a scrap of electric blue material, held up by a tantalizingly thin band slung low on his hips. The pouch barely covered his genitals. Desire riveted her, stealing the breath from her lungs. She clutched the shopping bag to her breast, afraid if she dropped it she would hook her thumbs into the flimsy blue thong and yank it down. "Michael, you're scaring me. What's going on? I thought you said you brought no clothes."
He took her hand. She itched to cup the bulge at the apex of his long legs in both hands, but disappointment surged when he drew her into the main part of the Coach House. "This outfit wasn't difficult to hide. Did you find a costume?"
His teasing voice stroked her like a velvet glove. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Before you change, I want you to meet someone."
The opulent space had been converted into a fetish aficionado's paradise--pulleys, paddle benches, stocks, ceiling hooks. A diminutive man dressed in Oriental garb drifted out of the shadows like a terra cotta warrior rising from the dust. Her breath hitched in her throat. He held a coiled length of rope. Her knees turned to jelly as he bowed to her.
Michael gripped her hand. "May I present Master Mamoru. His name means Protector. He's a--"
Jessie wrenched her hand from his grip, fear swirling in her gut. "I know what he is. I will not allow him to tie me up."
"He's not going to tie you up, Mistress Jessie. He's going to bind me. Tonight I'm your willing slave."
~~~
Jessie's hands shook so much, she was barely able to tie the laces of her teddy in the dressing room. The outfit was a bit snug, especially around her breasts. Michael would definitely approve of the areolas peeking over the top.
When she emerged, Master Mamoru had already bound Michael's hands to a stake in the centre of the space with an intricate set of knots. He bowed to her. "Please strip your slave."
She glanced at Michael's face. He nodded.
Master Mamoru put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Do not ask his permission. He is your slave."
She knelt at Michael's feet, reached up, hooked her thumbs into the thong, and gently eased it down. She'd known he was aroused, but her clit throbbed as his cock sprang up. His beauty never failed to send waves of heat crashing through her. She licked her lips and tugged the thong off one foot, then the other.
"Now we can bind his feet."
Using a thin rope, Mamoru patiently demonstrated an intricate pattern of knots and bindings from Michael's toes to his ankles. Soon his feet were firmly fastened to the stake in a beautiful web of rope. She'd never paid attention before to how appealing his feet were. She stared, overtaken by a sudden urge to kiss each toe.
Mamoru chuckled. "Listen to your heart."
She knelt down and kissed, then licked each toe. She glanced up at Michael's penis. It seemed bigger. Maybe it was the angle, or her imagination, but moisture trickled between her legs.
Michael was studying the ceiling.
The Asian's stiff silk garments rustled as he helped her stand. "You do not look comfortable in that garment."
It was true. The costume was too small, and she'd sweated, and leaked. Master Mamoru was at least a hundred years old and had probably suppressed his sex drive in pursuit of his art.
She pulled the shorts off quickly and fumbled with the laces of the teddy.
"Have your slave do that."
"His hands are bound."
"He still has his teeth."
Breathing heavily, she stood in front of Michael. "Undo my laces, slave."
Michael dragged his gaze away from the ceiling. She could tell from the clench of his jaw and the fire in his eyes the Submissive role was getting to him, but he bowed. "Your wish is my command, Mistress."
He took the end of a lace into his mouth and pulled the tie loose. His hair tickled her breasts. She hissed in a breath. He glanced up at her and smiled.
A shiver of fear skittered up her thighs. Would Sir make her pay for this later?
She quickly loosened the laces herself and shrugged off the teddy. Michael licked his lips, his eyes fixed on her bare breasts as Mamoru deftly criss-crossed rope up his legs.
"Now for the scrotum," the Kinbaku Master announced.
~~~
Suddenly, Michael didn't feel like smiling. This had seemed a good idea, but he'd never seen a man tied up by a Kinbaku Master. The touch of the ancient Master's delicate fingers was more arousing than he wanted to admit. As Mamoru patiently explained to Jessie how to tie a man's balls so as to not inflict pain (unless she wanted to), all Michael could think of was a scene in some James Bond movie where a mean-spirited guy was thrashing Bond's balls as he sat in a bottomless chair.
The name of the freaking movie was on the tip of his tongue.
His body was slick with sweat. He tried to flex his feet, but couldn't move them a millimeter.
His stupid cock didn't know any better and still stood to attention. He gasped when Jessie licked his imprisoned balls. His whole body went rigid. "Christ," he shouted.
"Perhaps we should gag him," Mamoru suggested.
Who the fuck do you think is paying your fee, moron?
Jessie immediately shook her head, thank God, no doubt remembering her own ordeal. "
No. No gag."
Mamoru then gave a painstaking demonstration of binding cocks.
Michael was ready to explode, hot sperm churning in his balls. He couldn't remember if he'd taken his heart medication.
"I'm going to suck you, Michael, but try not to come."
He'd died and gone to some place between heaven and hell. Not come? What exactly did she mean by that? Did she not know a man had no control once the Rubicon had been crossed? It was grade ten biology--or sex ed--or something. "Christ," he yelled again as she sucked him into the back of her throat, her teeth catching on one of the tiny knots Mamoru had fashioned.
The Master held up the gag, his brows arched.
Jessie left off sucking and shook her head.
God, he loved this woman.
Good thing his legs were supported by the ropes because his thighs had developed a nervous tic.
Ten minutes later, he was trussed up in an impressive array of knots and rope patterns. He was exhausted. If he didn't come soon they'd have to send for medical help. He blinked away sweat, his eyelids the only part of his body he still had control over.
Jessie gently wiped his brow with a blessedly cool cloth. "I love you, Michael," she whispered.
A great weight lifted from his lungs. He could breathe again. "C-Casino Royale," he stammered.
~~~
"Untie him. He's hallucinating."
They'd gotten Jessie down quickly by slicing through the ropes that bound her in Glazebrook's dungeon. Master Mamoru had Michael out of his bindings in a few minutes. He insisted on leaving the rope ring at the base of his penis in place, reassuring a scowling Michael he would thank him for it later.
Michael leaned on her heavily, trembling. "I'm not hallucinating. I'm fucking horny, and I just remembered the name of--"
"What?"
"Never mind. God, Jessie, you'll have to help me here. If I don't get inside you soon--"
"I want you too. Can you wait until Master Mamoru has tied me up for you, Sir?"
Now he was closer to hell, but oh, the promise of a heavenly reward--Jessie tied up, ropes criss-crossed around her lovely globes, her throbbing cunt exposed, ready for him to plunge. He didn't know where he found the strength. "I can wait."
Mamoru ushered them into an adjacent space. He was at least a foot shorter than Jessie, but he quickly lifted her into a chair-like web of rope suspended from the ceiling that he must have made earlier, or maybe it was a permanent feature. She sank into it, her bottom at the edge, her knees raised. He bound her hands high above her head, spread her legs, and tied her knees to other ropes dangling from the ceiling. Then he disappeared, seemingly into thin air.
Michael stared at Jessie's most intimate place. The rope ring tightened as the beast raged. Great though his need was, he had to taste her, had to get her juices into the desert of his mouth. She'd agreed to be bound for his pleasure, despite her fear.
He put his hands on her upended bottom, nudged her already spread lips open a little more with his thumbs, and bent to flick his tongue over her nub. She tasted of sweat and pure woman.
She looked at him, her brown eyes glazed. "Please, Sir, I need to come."
Aha! He wasn't the only one turned on by this bondage thing.
"Two more minutes, Puss-puss."
Talk about delusional. He was kidding himself if he thought he'd last another two minutes. The rope ring would strangle him.
Jessie squirmed as he lapped and sucked. "Pleeease, Sir."
He stood up straight, feeling like a giant, his cock aimed directly for paradise. "When you feel my finger you can come, Puss-puss."
He licked the pad of his thumb and touched it to her nub. She exploded, straining like a madwoman at the ropes, begging for his cock in guttural, choking sobs.
He braced his legs and obliged, thrusting deep, overtaken by an animalistic lust to possess the deepest part of this woman whose love had freed him. He clamped his arms around her thighs and she matched him stroke for pounding stroke, despite the restraints.
She came again, her wet warmth a soothing flood as she clenched her quivering muscles on his happy cock.
His thigh muscles were on fire, his balls in flames, his hips feeling the strain, his whole body shaking. He was too old for this shit, but he'd do it again in a heartbeat.
He babbled gibberish as he plunged in and out, in and out, over and over, but he didn't care. His brain had stopped working, overruled by joyful madness. The euphoric sensations riveting his body consumed him as his sperm erupted deep inside her.
He collapsed onto her, his feet leaving the floor. He vaguely trusted the swinging rope net would bear their combined weight.
~~~
Jessie came back slowly to conscious thought, trying to grasp on to bits of memory floating around her brain.
Her pussy purred, Michael's warm and sticky cock curled up at her opening. Her muscles clenched again when she remembered the sensation of the rope ring rubbing against her clit. It conjured an image from a book she'd read about alien warriors endowed with a mating fist at the base of their shaft.
"Lucky brides of the Kindred," she murmured.
She stared at the ceiling. It seemed to be moving slightly. Michael was on top of her, drooling on her shoulder. "What?" he rasped, lifting a hand to wipe his mouth.
She twirled her fingers in his hair. "Thank you, sir," she whispered.
He nuzzled her neck. "Mmm."
She wanted to be sure he understood. "Thank you for forcing me to face my fear, Michael. I wouldn't have had the strength by myself."
"You don't have to be strong. You just have to feel strong."
She thought about that. It was true. Michael was her Dom, but his dominance gave her strength, empowered her, inspired her to new heights, physically and emotionally. He'd chipped away many of her inhibitions.
"I loved the singing, Sir."
Michael raised his head, his hair a sweaty tangle. "What?"
"You broke into song, in Italian."
He frowned. "I sang?" he asked incredulously.
"Something about misterioso, universo. I can't remember the rest. I was preoccupied."
Michael laughed, pushing himself off the net. "That's from La Traviata."
"I thought I recognised it."
"It's Alfredo's part."
He came to stand at her side, putting his hands on her breasts. Desire stirred again between her legs. His eyes fixed on hers, he started to sing. "Amor è palpito dell´universo intero, misterioso, altero, croce e delizia al cor."
His husky voice filled her heart. "That's it. What does it mean?"
He brushed his thumbs over her nipples. "Love is the heartbeat of the universe, mysterious, altering, the torment, and delight of my heart."
"I need to come again, Sir," she pleaded as the ache spiralled from her hardened nipples to her clit.
He kept one hand on her breast, teasing her nipple as he slid the fingers of his other hand into her sheath. "Good, I want to see your face when you come, Puss-puss."
The long climax crashed over her as Michael gently curled his fingers into her G-spot. "Madness and joy," she blurted out when she could breathe again.
"I love you, Jessie," Michael said hoarsely. "We'll have to buy one of these net things for the house."
She laughed out loud. "I can see it now, suspended from a ring in the ceiling in the bedroom!"
He withdrew his fingers and slapped her bottom playfully. "I was thinking more in terms of the Games Room."
"You have a Games Room?"
"Not yet, but I intend to remedy that."
EPILOGUE
Six months later
"Speech, speech."
Michael swiped the linen napkin across his mouth and stood reluctantly in response to the insistent clinking of cutlery against glass. He grasped Jessie's hand and drew her to her feet, pulling her chair back with his other hand so it wouldn't catch on the grass.
A hearty cheer rose from the small crowd of wedding g
uests gathered in Traw Hunter's back garden in David, Panama.
Michael motioned for them to be seated and scanned the faces as they took their seats at the lavishly decorated tables. The light of the full moon in the cloudless sky reflected off the white tablecloths. Candles flickered in golden coach lanterns strategically placed around the garden.
Jessie squeezed his hand. She knew he was nervous about his speech. He cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, damas y caballeros. Welcome, all. Bienvenidos, todos."
Hispanic friends at the gathering would appreciate the effort, despite his torturing their language. "That's as much Spanish as I'm going to attempt."
Laughter.
"My brother speaks Spanish a lot better than I do, or so the ladies tell me."
More laughter.
"Stand up, Gary."
His brother stood, waving.
"Gary, Jessie and I want to thank you for making the trip to be with us here, and for being my best man. It wouldn't have been the same without you."
Gary saluted. "My pleasure, bro. Wouldn't have missed it for the world."
Polite applause as he regained his seat.
"Most people probably aren't aware of this, but it was Gary who finagled to get Jessie and me together."
More applause.
Jessie blew Gary a kiss. Gary pretended it had hit him on the side of his face.
No wonder his brother looked so happy. Michael had read the final draft of Her Wise Protector. It had blown him away.
Butterflies fluttered in his gut at the memory of life before the super talented woman he had married. He owed his brother a debt he could never repay. But he'd told Gary that privately. No need to get all schmaltzy now.
"I see from the look of surprise on my sister's face, she didn't know of Gary's role. Stand up, please, Charlene and Harry."
To Michael's own surprise, Harry seemed to be the one enjoying the attention, whereas the over confident Charlene was blushing to the dyed roots of her hair, avoiding looking at anyone. Huh!
"Thanks, sis, for coming all this way. You were absolutely right about the kind of woman I should've been looking for all along. Maybe you and Gary plotted this together."
Gary shook his head. "No, all my doing."
