Bounty Hunter

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “So you have her back and can undo whatever caused the problem.”

  “Exactly. It’s nice to converse with a man after my own heart.”

  “Yes.” Logan pushed himself away from the table as he took the last swallow of his beer. “And I’d better be going. I have business of my own to take care of.”

  The man’s face lit up as if he understood what Logan was talking about. Logan wasn’t about to correct him; that would be pointless.

  The two shook hands again and Logan was off.

  

  It was nearly midnight when Logan knocked on Lady Jane’s door. Her apartment, #207, was at the back of the building, away from the others. She’d chosen this particular one purposely, for the privacy she needed to conduct her personal and professional life. When the tall brunette answered, an elated smile broke out on her pretty red lips.

  “Got a bed for a tired bounty hunter?” Logan asked as he reacquainted himself with the curvaceous vamp.

  “Damn right, I do,” she pulled him into her arms and hugged him tight. Then drawing away, the happy woman led him down a long hall, which eventually opened into a large living room filled with overstuffed furniture in the Gothic style Logan hated. The vintage wallpaper clung to the walls like a scared spider, threatening to peel away with just the slightest breath of air. Its intricate floral pattern was as dark as the ugly furniture, as morose as a mournful ballad. But it set a mysterious mood, which was in character for its eccentric owner. Lady Jane pulled her visitor to the rose-colored couch and sat down at his side. She swept him into her arms and hugged him hard before drawing away. Even then, she held his hand in hers to prevent him from getting away.

  “So, when are you going to stay with me for good, my sweetie? I miss you.” She pouted miserably before her faced perked up. “Just look at this,” she pointed to the table, where a pair of wine glasses sat between an uncorked bottle of Merlot. “I’m always ready for your next visit.” She quickly dislodged the cork and poured two glasses of the fragrant liquid.

  “I’ll stay with you for good, long as you move out of Pittsburgh,” Logan answered her question.

  “Aw, heck, Logan, Pittsburgh is as good as anywhere.”

  “Not for me. Plus, you’d never like my job.”

  “Any more than you’d like mine.”

  “I don’t mind you being an accountant,” he snickered.

  “That’s not the job I’m talking about and you know it.”

  “I don’t mind the other one either, as long as I’m the one in charge.”

  “And the only one,” she added.

  “Maybe,” he snickered. “You think I’d let my woman fuck other men? Hum, I actually might. Wouldn’t bother me in the slightest to seeing you gangbanged once in a while.”

  She smirked coyly while fingering the delicate edge of the rose-colored wine glass. She wore silk, long flowing skirts and slinky wrappers over her lacy underthings. An attentive eye could easily see her unfettered breasts beneath the insubstantial lace covering her chest. The metaphor was apt; if you looked beyond her enigmatic appearance, she was a very basic woman with basic, uncomplicated needs. But she clothed herself in obscure raiment that pushed most people away before they had the chance to see how easily she could be understood. It was all a matter of control with Lady Jane; life was lived on her terms. For that reason, when it came to sex and men, the flirtatious vamp remained tightly in control every minute, until at the last second, when she finally gave in and surrendered to the submissive desire that drove her mad with longing.

  “You gonna tie me up?” she asked sweetly, batting her dark lashes.

  “Are you trying to seduce me?”

  “Of course, I am, my sweet. You came to me at the perfect time.” She bit her lip coquettishly. “The moon is full, the dogs are howling, the air is thick with hope. There’s no better time to have me.”

  She was certainly right about that. Logan felt her rhythmic body begin to beat in his, starting in his pelvis. Just hearing the lush quality of her voice, his cock expanded to fill his pants and press urgently against the zipper. He could have fucked her in a second, but that was not what either of them wanted. For a while, he’d deny her. He’d deny himself. He’d ignore the harlot’s magic and shut her down until he was ready. He’d take his time; he’d make her wait and make her suffer.

  He loved every bit of Lady Jane, from her sass, to her clothes, to her smile and her bountiful body and her wicked thoughts. It had always been his pleasure to tie her up and take her down for a long scene of surrender, from which it took days for either of them to emerge. And he would do that this time. They’d clash, they’d war, they’d make love like gods. But this time, his inspiration was beyond the woman sitting on the couch beside him. This time, it was little Annie who drove his powerful urgings into a crazed need. It must have been her innocence, her quiet, her serenity, her youth that stirred the angry devil in his groin. She was not so easily forgotten. As he worked over his lusty lady friend, he’d think about Annie instead of the vamp, while letting the mistress of control believe he was solely there for her.

  Lady Jane was not an Annie. She was far from innocent. She’d never been naïve. In the last few years, she’d become the closest thing to a professional S&M submissive that Logan had ever met. Still, for now she suited his pressing need.

  Putting on the familiar persona of authority, his smiled ceased and his good mood slipped away. His face turned cold and his heart hard.

  “You won’t seduce me with your clothes on sitting next to me, slave,” he spat out with a vicious twist to his words.

  She was immediately taken aback by the quick transformation—pleasantly in awe. “Ooo, my, you’re moving fast tonight. Some little runaway inspire you?” she asked as if she read his mind.

  He ignored the question. “On the floor,” he barked, while taking her wine glass in his hand and setting it on the table.

  Seeing the ice and the fire in his burning eyes, the silk-clad lovely wisely slid to the floor and began to disrobe. Layers of soft material fell away until what was left—resplendent in a puddle of fallen clothes—was Lady Jane’s pink-white body, nude and glistening with a layer of dewy perspiration. She knelt with her hands clasped behind her waist and her head bowed, closely mimicking the position she was in the last time they were together. A submissive offering at Logan’s boots, ready to serve.

  “Spread your legs wide,” he ordered tersely.

  Though her legs were already open, Jane awkwardly scooted her thighs further apart, while keeping her head obediently bowed.

  “Wider,” he ordered, because he still wasn’t pleased.

  Her thoughts raced as her memories of him quickly returned. She was never enough, never good enough to please him. Perfection was unattainable in his presence, under his command and punishment was the only answer to her failing.

  But still, she would try. Struggling again to widen her thighs further, she might have succeeded to some degree before she settled again. Hopefully, he wouldn’t ask for more.

  While a strong flutter of arousal gnawed at her tummy, her naked pussy felt the cool titillation of the air on her exposed cunt. She had a rather fat pair of pubic lips, but not so fat that they hid her sizable clitoris. The sliver of flesh stood out boldly, like a tiny throbbing dick. Dangling from the hood was a thick, silver ring with a heavy leaded ball to weight it down.

  Seeing the brash display, Logan remembered clearly when he pierced her, how she screamed when he jabbed the 10 gauge needle through her flesh. He had her tied spread-eagle on a rack, with a dozen candles dancing in the drafty room. She arched her back as the pain jolted her nerves and her cry surrounded them both. Then when she settled down into an unthinking bliss, he threaded the heavy hoop through the hole. He wanted to tug on the pretty thing now until she screamed again. But no! It was much too soon; he had to wait.

  “Go bring me a rope, the chains, a whip and a gag,” he ordered, “with your teeth.”

 
; She paused just seconds to let the command settle in, but it was seconds too long. He leaned in and jerked her by the hair until they were face to face. He slapped her cheek, and watched with his arousal expanding as his handprint appeared as a red rash on her face. Already he could see her simmer, lust pouring hungrily from her eyes. She could submit this way on a dime, without a second thought, without flinching, and then as easily rise to her feet and play the queen of smiles and laughs and female control.

  “With your teeth,” he pushed her away with a mean shove. “No hands.”

  She crawled with her hands behind her back, her shoulders inches off the floor. Moving awkwardly from the couch to a cabinet on the far wall, she butted her head against the wood once she reached her target. The cabinet door opened to a ménage of play toys, including all the ones he’d named. Taking one object from the cabinet at a time, she then crawled back to his feet with the item in her mouth and then returned to the cabinet for the next. She worked with thoughtless diligence, at times, looking like a sniffing bloodhound as she rooted through the tangle of chains and ropes for what she wanted. She liked the patient repetition of her several trips, the way it slowly brought her down to the lowly acquiescence of a true submissive, where Logan wanted her. She might put on a show for the other dominants she served since they never knew exactly what was in her heart. But Logan did, and would punish a false performance as easily as he’d punish deliberate disobedience.

  Finished with the tedious mission, Lady Jane stopped at Logan’s feet with her thighs spread in an awkwardly wide stance as before and her head bowed.

  “You could have done it faster, slave,” was her master’s only retort.

  “My humble apologies, sir.”

  “Look at me!”

  His voice made her insides quiver, while she raised her head and stared into his eyes. He slapped her face with the palm of his hand, and backhanded her right cheek a second later. “You’re not there yet, bitch!”

  She hated him calling her bitch—as if she were a total failure. But, of course, she wasn’t ‘there’, in that mystical place where her desire fell away and Logan’s ruled.

  “How may I serve you, sir?” she asked him humbly.

  “Put them on.” He nodded to the toys beside her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  With effortless grace and surety, Lady Jane began the ritual by ringing her throat with a thick chain. She followed with another chain around her waist and one that threaded her crotch and clipped to her clit ring. Then she turned her back to Logan so he could fix the end of the chain to the one at her throat. Tightened and properly hooked, the metal cut into her crotch with the cruel bite she expected.

  With her back still turned, Logan tied her hands together with a length of rope, then bound her arms into a snug cocoon, from her wrists to well above her elbows. After turning her around, he used another, smaller rope to put her great breasts in bondage. The rope circled her torso several times, above and below the round melons, lewdly altering the appearance of the fleshy orbs. Then he tied the ropes together at her sides and between her tits, making them look bizarrely purple next to her pale skin. With every zealous tug of the rope, Lady Jane traveled deeper into her submissive state. The bondage would hurt every time she moved, but that was the purpose. Her pussy would juice because of that, as the feeling of surrender intensified.

  The act of binding a submissive woman so moved the bounty hunter that a vicious heat spread through his crotch, causing his penis to expand urgently. He’d finally get the work out he’d been putting off so long.

  Pulling the submissive to her feet, he stared into her smoldering eyes, pouring his body lust on her like a conquering hero. With a rude shove, he thrust the ballgag into her mouth and attached its straps to the chain behind her neck.

  Feelings of power and authority flooded his veins, and he moved swiftly now. Forcing her against the wall, he whipped her shoulders raw with the leather snake, until his throbbing member ached too much to go on. He backed off long enough for his passion to abate, then pulled her away from the wall and attached her wrists to a hook that he fished through a hole in the ceiling. He’d put the device there five years before, just for such occasions like this one. He augmented the bondage by threading a rope through the chain at her throat and tying it off to the same hook that held her wrists. She looked as if she were hanging by her neck and hands, bent over in an awkward, vulnerable pose. She was still mobile, however, able to jerk and twist and move about on her feet as he worked her from all sides. He loved the challenge of having her this way. He could gauge her responses; see her mood play out on her face, when she fought him and when she gave in.

  The snake whip slashed the air and danced off her skin. Like an expert marksman, he aimed for certain body parts and caught them hard before she could even think to move. In the aftermath of every cut, she did a crazy tango on her tiptoes, wincing, crying, and bleating behind the gag. The torment took her down, made her pussy gush with juices and turned Logan’s dick into a rod of angry steel.

  Finally, when holding back his physical need was no longer an option, Logan pulled one of her great fat chairs into the center of the room and used it to support her dangling body by shoving her over the cushioned top. From between her spread legs, the sign of her arousal rose up to greet him. Her ripe pussy stank with the sour tang of her sex. Undoing the neck and wrists chains from the overhead hook, he made her body more maneuverable. Ready now, he opened his pants and thrust his tumescent cock deep into the wet quivering vessel before him.

  She squeezed his firm member forcefully from the start, and he began to spasm urgently. Every thrust strained her muscles, but from the way she cawed and mewed behind her gag, the strain became a source of pleasure, as effective as the whipping, as efficient as his hard-hitting cock. Pinching her nipples between his fingers, Logan felt the resulting sensation make her cunt twitch. Moments later, his cock stiffened and then jetted its load inside the obliging portal. Roaring and grunting as he did, everyone at the house knew that Lady Jane had just satisfied another master. What they’d never know was how special this particular master was.

  It was a long while before Logan released the submissive. After withdrawing from her cumming cunt, he reattached the neck and wrists chains to the ceiling hook. Then for nearly a half hour, he sat on her couch, downing a beer, while watching the bound lady move in the airspace between them like a floating bird. Her body labored in the demanding position and beads of sweat appeared on her brow, but there was a look of contentment in her eyes, resignation that came from her heart.

  His cruelty had inspired him but it had hardly been appeased. Sipping his beer smugly, he enjoyed the look of her with little thought of taking her down, content to watch as her serenity slowly faded. She attempted to squash the appearance of any distress and give him only a picture of bliss—this was, after all, her role with any dominant man. And with Logan, it was paramount after their journey to darkness. But Logan knew her well. He understood every twitch of her body, every slight jerk, every unplanned grimace. The stringent bondage was beginning to fray her nerves as she awoke from her fantasy dreamland.

  When he finally swaggered toward her, he was still frowning haughtily. But a hint of compassion moved him to release the gag.

  “Enough?” he asked.

  “There’s never enough from you,” she answered.

  “Your words say one thing, but your body is telling me otherwise,” he flatly said as he began to undo the ropes and the chain.

  “You are too good to me, sir,” she said with a heavy sigh, as he extracted her bound arms from the rope and rubbed the life back into them. Her gratitude was obvious.

  “This is as far as my kindness reaches, love. Your tits will stay the way they are.”

  “Yes, sir.” This was probably not her plan, but she was too surrendering at the moment to consider fighting him. And she didn’t want to fight Logan Dunn. Of all the men she served, he was the one who could keep her conten
tedly in a humble place for hours, even days, with no thought of rebellion. But sitting naked at his feet with her tits still absurdly bound, she could already sense that their time together was nearly at an end. The culmination of their relationship luridly taunted her with its sexual promise. But she feared that her true desire would not be fulfilled.

  “So, you’ll tell me about the strumpet you just fetched for her master?” Lady Jane asked him once they settled in their places.

  “No, you know I don’t talk about work.”

  “Why not? I’ll never meet the girl.”

  “It’s a matter of principle.”

  “But you’re always obtuse, my sweet. I want to know something about the rest of your life.”

  “Well then, why don’t you run away from your life and hire me to bring you back?”

  She laughed. “Oh, the bad thoughts in my mind now.”

  “Spankable thoughts?” he asked.

  “Very much so.”

  “Then I’ll have to take care of that too, won’t I?”

  “Yes, sir. Please sir.”

  He laughed again. “In my time, bitch, not yours.”

  Damn! The submissive spell was broken. She was back to being his ‘bitch’ again, and he was just Logan Dunn, the weary wandering bounty hunter, who would be gone in a day, if not before.

  He wound her dark hair in his fingers. “Come up and kiss me, Jane,” he said.

  She moved to the couch, to his lap, and devoured him with all the love she felt. If anything, he was more remote this time than before. But whatever was gnawing in his belly would take a crowbar to pry loose, and she had only the night and half a day to learn the truth.

  Chapter Seven – The Country Pleasure Fair

  In the foothills just outside Denver, Jill broke free of Johnny Gold for several days. She thought it was the last she’d see of him when he dropped her at the country fair and took off to join his biker buddies on a ride to New Mexico. The night they fucked under the bridge had changed everything between them. Johnny stopped being cautious of her and turned into a demanding bastard. Something was eating at him, but he didn’t want to talk about it and she decided to stop asking questions.