Black Widow (Duet)

by Lena Austin

  Instead, Calder had used what was available in the room. He had even remembered to create a safe word, or in this case, a safe symbol. Now he was fucking her like he didn’t plan to stop until the sun rose or she screamed, whichever came first.

  Unable to see his face, Kelly resorted to the most common of tricks -- her voice. “Yes, Master! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!” she begged. It was a rare man who wouldn’t redouble his efforts to hammer her silly, and she intended to be so weak when he was done that she’d get carried to the bedroom.

  Calder was no exception. His thrusts became the subject of legend women bragged about when men weren’t around to hear. Kelly just hoped the solid oak table could handle the strain. She allowed herself to lose control completely, as any good sub would. Nothing mattered but that Calder was hammering her like a man possessed, and her whole body was responding.

  He had a good grip on her ankles, but she managed to get them on his shoulders, and his grunting moan was all the thanks she needed.

  Every inch of her concentration was focused on what her pussy said felt wonderful. She could feel his balls slapping her ass, his cock ramming home to the hilt, and even how the pounding was stimulating her clit. It was all coming together as one giant nova of pleasure.

  Calder’s harsh breathing told her he wasn’t that far from explosion, either. Kelly urged him on. “Come for me again, please! Come again!”

  “You first,” came a growling response.

  No problem! “Yes, Master!” she screeched, and released. It was secondary from her point of view that Calder learned subs could be trained to orgasm on command.

  Calder followed, with a moaning roar that made her glad the house was empty. The tiny little jerks of his hips kept her in aftershocks until both were spent enough to just stay where they were and pant.

  Only when Kelly’s hand fell away from the green napkin, to crash against the candelabra did both jerk back to reality. “Oops!” Kelly giggled.

  “You dropped the napkin,” Calder reminded her. “That’s naughty, right?” he added with an insinuating tone.

  “Uh-oh! Does this mean you’re going to take me down stairs and spank me?” She could insinuate, too. Would he pick up on it?

  “Since you suggested it, yes.” Calder picked her up without removing the tee shirt and slung her over his shoulder.

  “Eep! Me and my big mouth.”

  “I have other uses for your mouth later.” Calder swung her toward the main hall, if her sense of direction wasn’t totally screwed by not being able to see. Well, if he found his way without her, all the better.

  Kelly caught a whiff of the hot wax warmer and knew he’d found the door to the stairs leading down to the basement. He fumbled briefly with the light switch, and almost dropped her.

  “Hey, this isn’t very romantic,” Kelly teased. Actually, it was. She was thoroughly enjoying being hauled around like a sack of potatoes by a guy who showed little effort.

  “It isn’t supposed to be. It’s supposed to be kinky.” He adjusted her more securely, even patting her butt before beginning his descent.

  The light illuminating the room was too bright, but at the bottom of the stairs, Calder found the dimmer switch and dialed for softer lighting. That much Kelly could tell through the fabric of her tee shirt.

  He paused at the base of the stairs, as if contemplating his choices. Kelly wondered what he would choose. She opened her mouth to tell him the spanking horse was behind the third door to the right, on the same side as the kitchen, and then shut her mouth with a snap. It was much more fun to let Calder use his imagination. What would he do?

  “That would be interesting,” Calder commented.

  That had to be rhetorical. She felt Calder stride forward a few steps, and then he swung her around a few times to make her lose her sense of direction. Her low squeal of surprise was automatic, but not without a certain amount of pleasure. “So, you’ve found a way to confound me, have you, Master?” She put all the rich good humor in the compliment she could manage.

  Calder strode a few steps more. “This is a little feminine for my taste, but it will work.” Sitting down, Calder put Kelly over his knees. Kelly caught a glimpse of her oriental carpet and knew Calder sat upon her own “throne,” as he called her favorite chair in the dungeon. What a lovely, subtle symbol of who was in charge tonight!

  With her bare bottom up, Kelly was reminded of the vulnerability of her position. She squirmed to get comfortable, knowing what was coming and relishing the thought.

  Calder played with her already well-used and excited pussy for a few moments. Then he caressed her bottom in warning, and administered one good smack to one cheek while continuing to finger fuck her with the other hand.

  Kelly gasped. He knew how to spank! Her mind couldn’t focus on both pleasure and pain, so her brain chose pleasure. Alternating cheeks, he spanked her until she was within inches of an orgasm, and her butt was surely pink. She hung limply and trembled, ready to beg to be fucked again. “Master,” she began, hearing the plea in her voice.

  “Hush. I’ve one more little punishment in mind. You teased me last night, and I’ve a little revenge planned.” His voice held a hearty chuckle. “But this time, I’m going to let you see what is going to happen.”

  Calder put Kelly on the floor on her knees and stripped away the tee shirt. She blinked in the light and squirmed in her need. But Calder had ordered her to silence.

  Now he stood and stripped off his own shirt, standing naked and hard before her. Where did he get the strength? She eyed his hard-on hungrily.

  Calder grabbed her and picked her up, this time using the classic in-the-arms carry Scarlett and Rhett had made famous.

  Kelly followed his gaze to the schoolroom door. She sucked in her breath as Calder kicked open the door then put her face first on the huge teacher’s desk, bent over and ready, her sweet pussy exposed and ready for plundering. She thought she’d die if he didn’t fuck her.

  “Never tease a man with your virginal white panties and pretty round ass. He might take you up on the invitation,” Calder murmured before plunging home.

  “No man has dared, before you!” she cried for the sheer joy of it.

  * * *

  It was a long time before he carried her to the Victorian bedroom and fell in bed next to her. Kelly sighed and snuggled close, fairly certain she’d found her perfect partner.

  Chapter Six

  “You -- you -- what?” Brad sputtered and sat down heavily. He rubbed a hand across his sweating forehead and reached for a cigarette. His fears redoubled like some logarithmic formula with each passing moment.

  Calder choked on a laugh, leaned forward to take the lighter from Brad’s trembling hands and lit the smoke for his old pal. “You know, you say that a lot to me,” he commented, his tone soothing.

  Brad took a long, sucking drag on his cigarette and swore to himself for the umpteenth time he would quit someday. Even he, “Mr. Numbers” as his clients called him, had lost track. He regarded his latest irritation with narrowed eyes. “Then stop doing the unexpected, Shrink,” he muttered. “Geezus Christ, Calder! What do you think you’re doing? One good fuck with BW and I figured you’d have enough for your article. Aren’t you supposed to be disappearing into your hole to type by now?” He tapped his ashes into the little glass ashtray Angie kept for him on his desk.

  Calder returned to lounge in the large brown leather armchair and didn’t bother to smother his chuckles this time. “Never figured I’d have the stamina to keep up with Kelly?”

  Calder’s arms were folded across his chest, betraying to his old buddy that he was hiding more, much more.

  “Quit trying to distract me. I know damn well you’re capable of a week in Vegas with a dozen women if it pleased you.” Brad took note of the fact that Calder used BW’s name with the casual air of long use. He shouldered aside the image of Angie’s face saying she hoped for orange blossoms. Brad refused to believe it.

  Calder stared a
t the coffered ceiling of Brad’s well-appointed home office. “Then what’s your issue, Brad? So Kelly and I are enjoying each other’s company. We share a lot of the same interests.” He caught sight of Brad’s worried face and winged an eyebrow up. “I’m not using her, old man. I’m really liking this BDSM stuff, even if Kelly is keeping it light.”

  Brad stifled a groan. So Kelly was hooking Calder and reeling him in to be a sub. It was what Calder deserved, in a way, but the results could be disastrous. He decided to play it cool until he wormed more out of Calder. This would take the patience of a full corporate audit. He took another drag. “Okay, I admit that was a concern. I should have thought better of you. Tell me how your research is going.”

  Calder accepted the apology with a nod, but his green eyes lit up like yacht lanterns. He planted his feet on the floor, and leaned forward. “I’m getting all I need, Brad. There’s a huge amount of psychological factors, as well as physiological responses, to BDSM that bears something even bigger than one little magazine article.” He gestured expansively. “Why, there’s a whole book of shit I could write, and more sympathetically than some old prude’s guesses based on lab results of pain studies.”

  “Shit is right,” Brad agreed. The reasons behind what worked for players didn’t matter to him, but he had to grin at Calder’s enthusiasm.

  Calder ignored the comment and smiled back. “Yeah, yeah, I know you don’t care. But I do. Damn, Brad, do you realize the stereotype of BDSM as all pain and nothing more is so inaccurate as to boggle the mind?”

  Brad let irony weigh his voice down, and his smile turned sardonic. “Yeah, I do.” He flicked another ash and waited for Calder’s brain to catch up.

  Calder jerked back a moment, and then began to laugh heartily. “Okay, I deserved that.” Calder returned to sprawling in the armchair. “Fact is, there’s a book screaming to be written on this. And I’m going to write it.” He returned to staring at the ceiling, and clamped his lips shut, as if he wanted to say more, but wouldn’t.

  Brad tried to make his mind function, and couldn’t. Calder was talking long-term commitment without realizing it, and Brad would be damned if he’d point that out. “But what about your magazine article?”

  Calder put his arms behind his head and favored Brad with a look full of wry good humor. “Oh, they’ll get it. I sent off an outline to my agent yesterday just before Kelly came to pick me up for dinner. Ruben called my cell this morning, practically crying with joy. He can’t wait to present it tomorrow morning.”

  Brad felt his jaw drop and couldn’t have halted it if he tried. No more than he could stop the next question that fell out of his mouth, one syllable at a time. “Kelly picked you up for dinner?” he repeated. His cigarette was ash, so he stubbed it out and grabbed another.

  Rubbing his stomach, Calder smirked with satisfaction. “Oh, yeah. Pot roast, mashed potatoes oozing with butter, and a chocolate cake.” The smirk turned sensual. “Great cake. I wheedled the rest of it from Sadie this morning. It’s a little worse for wear, but I’ll destroy the evidence.”

  Brad had no trouble envisioning why the cake was slightly damaged. Denny had confided to him how Kelly’s cake could be used. “So, Kelly made you a cake?” he asked with a casual air. Maybe Angie had been right after all.

  “Yeah,” Calder confirmed. “The rest of the dinner was made by Sadie. I could get to like having subs do the work. Sadie’s a treasure. So is Kelly.” Calder looked at his watch. “Whup, gotta run. Kelly’s got some pain sluts coming tonight, and we’re having a light supper beforehand. Sorry I don’t have any questions for you, Brad, but Kelly’s great at explanations.”

  Calder stood and grabbed up his jacket. He paused at the door, and turned back to face Brad, looking thoughtful. “Y’know, Brad, I can see why you’re into this now.” In an instant, his gaze was piercing. “It’s more than pain, more than kink and more than a simple exchange of trust. You can trust anyone, until that trust is betrayed. You give love, and get love in return. It’s wonderful, really.” Then he turned and whisked out the door as if running from something he knew would catch him eventually, and not sure if he wanted to be caught.

  Brad tapped off the inch-long ash on his cigarette and drew on the cigarette thoughtfully. He’d just seen the emergence of a Dom. “But what are you going to do when BW finds out you’ve betrayed her trust?” he whispered.

  * * *

  There was nothing guaranteed to gladden Kelly’s heart more than “Girl Day” with her pal Angie. Once a month, Kelly and Angie got together to give each other the full spa treatment. Sometimes they used submissives to provide massage, but today they had elected to be alone. Even Sadie was not in evidence, having been sent out with a long grocery list.

  “I am so glad that no subbie can see us look this silly.” Angie put the finishing touches of the thick clay mask on Kelly’s upturned face and giggled.

  Kelly pulled her foot from the hot water in the foot tub and flicked a tiny spray of water in Angie’s direction. “I don’t want to be a Dominatrix for the next few hours. I want to luxuriate in just being Kelly.” Her voice was just a little muffled from trying not to move too many facial muscles, but the good humor came through anyway.

  Angie put her own feet into her tub of hot soapy water and pushed her face forward so Kelly could slather it with the thick blue goo. “Why not? You’ve always enjoyed being the infamous Black Widow, with as many subs as you could get up until now. Is it because of Calder?”

  “Shaddup, or I’ll accidentally on purpose shove some of this mask into your mouth, Nosy.” Kelly mock-threatened Angie with a ladle full of the stuff. “Of course it’s Calder. He treats me like a woman, not a goddess or his mommy.” Her voice held an edge of pure contempt. The memory of Michael was still too fresh.

  Angie nodded in between pats as the mask was applied. “I can see that. Gosh knows you’ve had enough subs treat you like that to appreciate a refreshing change.” Her voice turned sly and insinuating. “Is he as good in the sack as he looks?”

  Casting her gaze skyward, Kelly moaned, “Oh, God, yes.” She could admit to herself she was just a tiny bit “saddle sore,” and not just from the spanking.

  Angie smirked and part of her mask cracked. “You’re walking just a tad more carefully than usual, hon,” she observed. “You’d better take a hot bubble bath after I leave to ease the ache.”

  Kelly was suddenly very grateful that the mask hid her blush. “Guess so,” she agreed in the most noncommittal tone she could manage.

  They listened to the stereo, meditating to Brahms in companionable silence until the bell timer announced their masks were dry.

  “Okay, I’m going to pry now,” Angie began, no longer caring if she cracked her mask.

  “You mean you weren’t before?” Kelly laughed mockingly through tight lips as she got up to go wash the dried mask off her face.

  “Get a grip.” Angie stood and followed Kelly to the sink, trailing water all over Sadie’s floor. “Okay, blunt then. How’s the status of your heart? Calder is definitely a sex crime waiting for a spot marked X, but you look like there’s more involved than your puss.”

  Kelly gave Angie one baleful glare and stalled, washing the mask off with perhaps more vigor than usual. Angie folded her arms and leaned casually against the granite counter. That stubborn look on her face told Kelly she wasn’t going to give up prying, but the twinkle of good humor remained in her eyes.

  Kelly gave up, patted her face dry with a towel, and sighed. “Okay, okay. Yeah, I think my heart has a few strings on it. Besides the obvious bedtime skills, Calder is intelligent, and more than accepting of my profession. He likes classical music and old Bogart movies.”

  Angie rolled her eyes. “You and he are peas in a pod, then. I swear you were born fifty years too late.”

  Kelly sniffed and pointed Angie to the sink. “You know darn well that old black and whites are all that’s on at three AM when I’ve finally finished with clients and the dun
geon is clean.”

  “That’s why I go to bed.” Angie splashed water on her face. “Geez, did you have to put this shit on so thick?”

  “Yeah, I did.” Kelly shook her head. “Ever hear of a good book, Angie?”

  “Of course. But I like slasher movies and potboiler thriller books.” Angie snatched up the towel Sadie had left for her and rubbed. Her strawberry pink tee shirt was soaked in front, so she yanked it off and sat down at the bistro set in her bra. “You know me, the ex-nurse. I like flying body parts and forensics.”

  “That is so sick!” Kelly teased. She opened the doors to the laundry pair in the kitchen and tossed the shirt in the dryer. “Aren’t you supposed to be a staid and stuffy accountant now?”

  “Why do you think I need a little excitement in my life?” Angie’s tone was again wry. “And you’re a fine one to talk, since you get excitement from beating on people.”

  Kelly threw up her hands, laughing. “Mea culpa! Okay, you win. But Calder has introduced me to science fiction. This is cool stuff! Hang on a sec!” She ran to the living room and pulled a well-thumbed book from off the sofa where she’d been reading when Angie arrived.

  When she came back, Angie was already painting her toenails some incredible shade of pink that did not appear in nature.

  Kelly brandished the fat paperback. “This is funny stuff! It’s Heinlein, about some guy who’s over a thousand years old named Lazarus.” She read a passage that had them both roaring with laughter, quoting the cynical immortal character. They took turns reading in between coats of toenail polish.

  When both had wiped their eyes and both sets of feet now sparkled with eye-blinding pink, Kelly clutched the book to her chest. “He gave me this book and promised to find me more.”

  It wasn’t until she saw Angie’s face that she realized how idiotic she must look. Kelly cleared her throat and carefully put the book aside. It hit her harder than any paddle from the dungeon below. “I’ve got it bad, don’t I?” she muttered, averting her eyes from the amusement on Angie’s face.