Taos started for her. “I’ll give you fucking justi—”
But Crispin’s hand on Taos’s arm stilled him. Apparently the sheriff was the one in control here, and he shoved Taos away before dropping to his knees. His hard-on loomed even more scarily, and his handsome face was twisted with lust. “You’re just a tease.” That was his assessment. “You know you’ve got big, jiggling boobs, and this is how you display them?”
She protested, “But I’m not display—”
Crispin tore her shirt asunder. Pleasure spread across his face when her corset was revealed. She had taunted them that she would buy one—they just didn’t know when they’d finally see it. Now all the hassle of shopping and fitting was paying off big time. Crispin was absolutely awash in admiration for her hourglass form, the way the underwire pushed her boobs up, displaying just a hint of areola.
She’d always been proud of her boobs, and now, with her hands bound behind her back, she could squirm and show them to their best advantage. “Is this what you meant?” Now I am teasing. I love it when men are the helpless ones, slaves to their own lust. I control that. “Are you talking about my tits displayed in this red satin cors—”
Crispin roared and dove headfirst into her cleavage.
Bettina had never seen him this brutal. Her being bound seemed to bring out the beast in him. In turn, his mouthing of her bared tits turned her on in the extreme. Crispin made big fat licks up the valley between her mashed boobs then nuzzled the exposed globes like a dog worrying a bone. His very growls resonated through her chest, stiffening her nipples under their harsh cage. Bettina writhed like a worm on a hook, encouraging her boyfriend.
But Taos seemed to be shaking him. “Dude. Dude! We’ve got to get her out of here! Remember?”
Crispin pulled away reluctantly. Locks of long brunet hair fell from his forehead, giving him a crazed, lustful look. “Oh. Right.” He straightened up his torso and backhanded her tits to show he didn’t care about her. They rippled like plastic bags of Jell-O, and Bettina felt empowered, knowing she enticed him.
Now Crispin yanked her to a sitting position while Taos crouched behind her. Oh. He was slipping a blindfold over her eyes. Taos murmured, “Can’t let you see where we’re taking you, right?”
Bettina whimpered in earnest now. She’d never liked being blindfolded, the couple of times men had tried it on her. She didn’t like losing the power, the control—the ability to see. It overpowered her with helplessness, like being posed like a mummy inside an MRI tube.
But she had to play along, so she innocently whined, “Where are you taking me?” as they pulled her to her feet. One man again heaved her over his shoulder like a sack, and by the fresh desert scent she construed it was Taos.
“You think we’re telling you?” Taos took this opportunity to cop a feel again as he bounced her out Crispin’s front door. The crunch of gravel and metallic creak of a car door told her she would be thrown into the back seat of Crispin’s king cab truck, like one of his pathetic drunks who had been sleeping on the sidewalk.
Where are we going? A hotel room? Oo, maybe the Starlight Motel in Rescue. That’s the best one around.
She could tell the truck pulled onto the main highway and was smoothly rolling as Taos said, “I can’t believe we got us a female cop. We should take advantage of it before they pay the ransom for her.”
“She’s got gorgeous tits,” agreed Crispin. “I just want to come all over her tits and face.”
“Don’t waste it, man.” cautioned Taos. “Save it for the big event.”
A thrill made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. The men were talking nasty about her as if she wasn’t even there. She decided to not utter a word, although she wasn’t gagged. She knew that if she leaned her radio button against the seatbelt buckle she could make the radio on Crispin’s belt crackle, but for now she liked staying quiet as a lamb and listening.
“You gonna bang her?” Taos queried. “You’re the cop, too. You’re the leader.”
“Yeah, you’re just a criminal,” Crispin agreed. She noted that Crispin, ever the gentleman even in the midst of a capture game, did not agree to “bang” her.
Taos took exception to this. “I’m not just a fucking criminal.” He argued, as Bettina knew real criminals often did. “I’m your partner now, buddy, so suck it up.”
“Well, I’m the fucking leader,” Crispin protested. “And I say I get to screw the stuffing out of her until she cries for mercy. And you are too a criminal. Once we get the ransom money you’re going straight back to jail.”
“After banging her,” Taos added.
Crispin sighed heavily, but didn’t answer.
Bettina squirmed in anticipation and craving. It was now an accident that she hit the radio button on the seatbelt, so she blurted out, “You’ll be sorry, you thugs. You won’t get as high of a ransom if I’m defiled.”
Crispin radioed back, although he was sitting just feet away. “You’re not getting off that easy, my hot tamale. You’ll be begging for more once you get a taste of my long, fat cock.”
The inner walls of her pussy actually shuddered, craving his long, fat cock. She hadn’t come prepared to be fucked, but one could hardly hand out a condom in a kidnap scene. She had just made sure it was the wrong time of the month, and she knew her men were clean. Now she quivered eagerly thinking of Crispin’s fat, naked dick nestled deep inside her. She’d been dreaming about it since the moment she’d met him.
They were laughing for now with a light mood, but things took a turn for the serious when Crispin pulled the truck to a stop. Again, Taos carried her indoors somewhere—it wasn’t the hotel, she could tell by the absence of crowd noises. The difference now was, she wasn’t so certain the two men were joshing around.
Taos hauled her into a large, empty room. Their hollow voices echoed and bounced off what sounded like cement or stone walls. It was noticeably cooler in here than the early May day outside. Did they bring me to a wine cellar? That really would be devious. She resumed wriggling when she really just wanted Taos to stroke the back of her bare thigh again.
She’d worn thigh-high stockings held up by lacey elastic, and she encouraged Taos to pet her again. The more she squirmed, the higher he ran his hand. Now he was gripping her above the elastic, his fingertips searing against her bare skin. When he tickled the strip of skin moistened by a drip of pussy juice, her cunt fluttered again. Crispin’s harsh slap to her glute woke her out of her dream.
“You’ll get your fucking turn, asshole!” Crispin snapped. “Dump her on that futon.”
“Yes, sir!” Taos sniped, doing just that. He groused, “I don’t know why I have to play bottom to your top. I’m a fucking top, too.”
For a moment Bettina hung in midair, and instant panic set in. Would Taos really toss her on the floor like that? But before the fear could truly grip her, she thumped up against a hard mattress, and she writhed to get the feel for it.
“We’re co-topping her, is what,” said Crispin, planting one knee on either side of her hips. He backhanded her tits vigorously until they shimmied like hula dancers on a dashboard. Bettina raised herself on her elbows to display them to better advantage. Apparently Crispin didn’t like her obedience, for he slapped her tits until they stung, tore her shirt away from the corset, and pinched her nipple until she cried out.
“Ow! What the fuck is that?”
Another slap to the tit that didn’t sting as badly. The pinch shot right through her abdomen and into her clit, swelling it. “You’ve never had nipple clamps?”
“No! Ow!” There went the other clamp, joining the trail directly into her inner pussy. Shocking her, making her jump and twitch. “What the fuck, Crispin? Do you have those things dialed up too high?”
“Sheriff Marwick, and you’ll behave and obey if you know what’s good for you.”
A new sensation. An extremely sharp pinprick to the mound of her right boob. Was he going to cut her? Bettina went silent now fro
m real, genuine fear. She’d always had a terror of blades and the fear was amplified ten times because she was blindfolded. She tried to wrench away from the pinprick, but Taos pinned her shoulders to the mattress. If she squirmed the blade would just cut her deeper, so she lay still, breathing shallowly.
“No, don’t,” she whispered. “Sheriff Marwick. Please. Please don’t.”
“That’s better,” he purred, although it didn’t stop him from dragging the blade all the way down her tit to her ribcage. “Nice and bursting tits, wouldn’t you agree, Taos?”
“Oh, yeah.” Taos sat above her head and the heat from his crotch hit her full on in the face. “Let me do her in the mouth while you do that, Sheriff.” Taos was playing the game fully now, too. Taos was a fool for having his dick sucked and today was no exception.
“Yes, plug her mouth with your cock,” Crispin agreed amiably. “Then I won’t have to listen to the perfect miss prissy who has never worn nipple clamps.”
Immediately Taos’s zipper went down. Bettina had to get her shots in while she could.
“How do you know I’m prissy? I wasn’t in vice, but I’ve been around the fucking block. You wouldn’t believe the reprobates we have entering our program. Just as bad as your Vegas sleazebags and wiseguys. I had one guy who flew back to Tampa, killed a man, and flew back the same night without raising any suspicions. When I found out—”
She didn’t talk fast enough. Her mouth was speared with Taos’s dick, a thoroughly familiar sensation to her now.
Only she didn’t usually suck him while blindfolded and bound, and now Crispin was binding her ankles, too. He wound a narrow what felt like slick nylon rope around one ankle and tied it apparently to a bedpost. She wondered what a futon was doing in the middle of an empty stone room, a square of sunlight nearby warmed the wooden floors. She sucked dutifully, still lifted on her elbows, and another drip of juice ran down her ass crack.
“I’ll bet you’ve never been taken against your will by two dirty, nasty men,” said Crispin. As a cop, he made short work of her ankles with the rope, and once again the tip of the knife was against her breast. She found that being held immobile like that, tied at the ankles and stuffed with Taos’s cock, a bit of the panic was setting in again. The knifepoint sealed her anxiety. “I don’t care how many sleazebags you claim you’ve handled in your job. You’re going to be afraid of me. You’re going to be my slave and you’re going to fear me.”
It felt like the blade of Crispin’s stainless folding knife. Bettina knew that was kept as sharp as a serpent’s tongue. She bucked now with only her lower half, too deathly afraid to move her torso lest Crispin draw blood. She collapsed so her shoulder blades were pressed to the mattress and Taos drove his cock deeper, fucking her mouth with sharp, shallow jabs.
“Yeah,” said Taos. “And she’s a pretty good cocksucker for someone who’s so prim and proper. I’ll bet she’s loving this. Do you love this, slave? Fuck the air with your hips if you love this.”
Taos must’ve been looking over his shoulder at the action. He loved fucking her mouth and watching Crispin pleasure her. Why do I get the feeling there will be no such pleasuring going on today? Just to be ornery, Bettina refused to air-fuck on command for Taos. For her efforts, Crispin drew the blade down and across the bony part of her chest.
And slapped her pussy.
At first she was so stunned she saw red behind the blindfold. It took several seconds—and several more slaps—for her to figure out what was going on. The shock to her pussy clashed against the scrape of the blade, and a battle ensued somewhere in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know which intense sensation to focus on, the blade or the slaps, but she couldn’t focus on both at once. Her mind refused to process both simultaneously.
She decided to try and ignore the blade and focused solely on the shattering, stinging, arousing feel of the clit slaps. Each slap coaxed a gasp and a gulp from her, and she found that soon she actually was obeying Taos’s order to fuck the air with her hips. She bounced them up and down because it helped process the extreme sensations Crispin’s hand was eliciting. Maybe she was getting rid of nervous energy.
“That’s it.” Taos encouraged her. “Show Sheriff Marwick how much you want him. Show the good sheriff how much you want his big dick in that pussy. Show him how much you love being slapped—”
“No!”
There it was again. That far-carrying bellow Bettina was famous for. She had wrenched her mouth away from Taos’s penis on his upswing just so she could be contrary. She wanted to fight the men. She wanted to parry, to evade their thrusts, to struggle against their invasion.
There was a split second of silence.
“What did you say?” Crispin asked thinly. “Did I hear you say no?”
“I said no! You’re not taking me. Not as long as there’s a tiny bit of breath in my body!”
“She’s a fighter,” Taos said matter-of-factly. “She likes to resist. Slap her some more.”
Not only did Crispin do that, but he took the blade and cut the thin strip of thong that protected her pussy from his onslaught. Now he whipped her slit in earnest with something that felt like a belt. Each strike made her jerk her whole body, to tense and coil up like a spring.
She shouted, “No! You can take me but you can never break me! You can violate me, but you can never take away my spirit.”
“That’s it, Taos.” Crispin’s voice came remote and stern in between floggings with the belt. “Fuck her mouth to shut her up.”
“Gladly.” Taos jammed his hard-on between her lips again and Bettina fell silent, gulping and licking his velvety hardness.
Now she had no choice but to focus on whatever Crispin decided to do next. It was a strange, unsettling, downright unsafe feeling knowing she was utterly at his caprice. The flogging was bringing out a side of Crispin she’d never felt before—a wild and randy animal with few restraints. Letting his freak flag fly had brought out his domineering, bossy, tyrannical side.
“God, I want you,” Crispin growled. She imagined him, locks of hair coming undone and flying wildly around his face. Shirtless, he was nothing but a pure god that brought women to their knees. “You make me so hot I want to just mount you and fuck you until you scream.”
Bettina was stimulated beyond belief. Naked and hogtied, abused by two men in a strange house. For all she knew there was an audience sitting there silently with folded hands, about to witness her defilement.
“Do her, buddy.” Taos probably didn’t need to encourage his friend. “I know we’ve made her wet. I know she’s dying to get filled by both of us at the same time. Yeah, good. Do her, buddy. Fill her up with your cum.”
Bettina gasped and nearly choked on Taos’s cock when the big, hot, bulging head of Crispin’s prick was nestled between her nether lips. Every nerve in her body was excited, stretched to its limit, shrieking out for more.
“Ah, young missy,” Crispin sighed, nudging his fat cock inside her as he kneeled between her thighs. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to feel you surrounding me.”
Bettina had been waiting even longer to get fucked by him. She jerked and hitched her pelvis fiercely, relentlessly. Crispin’s thick cock swelled even more once inside her. Her ego burst with pride, knowing she was bringing him off.
Chapter Thirteen
Crispin had been waiting so long to enter Bettina. When at last he nudged his cockhead against her searing hot slickness and pushed, a surge of dopamine flooded his brain. Affection, devotion, and pure love were all emotions Crispin didn’t want to face as he slid his prick inside her.
He’d been falling in love with Bettina for a long time now, ever since she’d driven onto his property with that bad boy biker in her car. He’d practically come to blows with Taos over her. He’d finally relented to join in a threesome just to keep her. And now he was getting extremely into this sexy capture game, the likes of which he’d never played before.
He had to maintain the persona. N
o matter how badly he wanted to cry out “I love you, Bettina! Be mine forever and a day,” Crispin had to keep up the character of the twisted Sheriff Marwick who had kidnapped a fellow lawmaker. He was using his power to enact a thrillingly perverted scene. He could tell that the captured marshal Bettina was enjoying it just as much as the vanilla Bettina who had come up with the scene in the first place.
She wasn’t about to use her safe word as Crispin swiveled his hips into her, that was for sure.
Each thrust of his hips was sheer ecstasy. Bettina’s hot, scorching pussy clutched and grasped at his cock. He fucked her gently—for such a deviant sheriff, he was being awful kind. But it wasn’t kindness that ruled his actions. It was fear of coming too fast. It had been so long since he’d plunged into a woman he loved, and the buildup of the long scene already had him aching for release.
Instead, he talked nasty, trying to match Taos for sheer dirty speech. “God, you young missy. Your pussy is so slick and wet. I can tell you’ve been waiting for me to fuck you ever since we handcuffed you.”
Of course she couldn’t reply, but her knees were spread as wide as possible and her hips met each of his thrusts. Taos was looking over his shoulder at Crispin, and he replied for her.
“She’s hot to go, man. I’ll bet her pussy is juicy as hell.”
Crispin just groaned as his eyes rolled up into his head. An enormous shudder ran up his spine, bringing his balls up close to his body in preparation to shoot the colossal load he’d built up.
“She’s sucking on me like I’m candy. Oh God, Bettina. Oh God, little one. You keep that up and I—”
Crispin was fascinated with the way Taos’s cum overflowed Bettina’s mouth and spilled down her chin. Taos was plugging her hard with his long penis and she was doing an admirable job of taking it all. A silvery stream of it ran down her neck and pooled in the pit of her throat.
The red line where Crispin had marked Bettina with his service knife aroused him even further. He had stopped short of drawing blood, unsure how the everyday vanilla Bettina would feel about being permanently marked. Knife play was the sort of edge play Crispin had long been interested in. He’d seen knife play demos in plenty of BDSM clubs, and often wondered what it would be like to be the recipient of such intense sensation. Years in vice had taught him a wide range of kinks, and he’d discarded the ones he knew he’d never try, but had stashed away the kinks that intrigued him.
Owner of a Lonely Heart (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 13
