Bondage Town

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Bondage Town Page 10

by Reese Gabriel


  That way she’d be trapped and someone could find her, and maybe use her if they chose. It was bright in the garage, on account of the big door being open, which meant anyone could see her now. She didn’t have any choice, any way to stop it as she paraded, like a female animal, cunt plugged, on all fours, primed and ready for the lowest sort of humiliation she could self-inflict.

  The concrete prickled. It was rough, just like the floor of the storage shed, where once she’d loved a boy, and been loved back. But now, there was only her imagination and the limitless heights and depths she could achieve by it. Clenching her thighs, she tried to keep back the first waves of orgasm, but as she moved they came anyway. Eyes closed she went, inch by inch by inch, bracing herself.

  “Well, what have we here?”

  Reyna’s eyes popped open. She looked up. It was Meredith, in a red dress and red pumps, her hair done up on her head, looking very fit, very amused and very smug behind her dark glasses.

  A dark chill passed down her spine, fear replacing the sexy danger she’d been feeling. Scrambling to her knees, she tried to conceal herself, to very little effect.

  “Uh uh,” Meredith shook her head, wagged her finger, “back down you go.”

  Reyna cocked her head, uncertain. Meredith couldn’t order her around could she?

  Studying her impeccably matching red nails and sounding bored, Meredith said, “I think you better do as I say, Reyna, unless you want your mother to rot in jail. And yourself along with her for indecent exposure.”

  “My—my mother?”

  “Yes, dear. I had her arrested, you know.”

  “What—what for?”

  Meredith pulled off her glasses. “That give you a clue?”

  She was sporting a huge shiner. Wow! Way to go Cynthia! Forcing back laughter, Reyna returned to her hands and knees, deciding not to incite the woman any further.

  “Come over here and kiss my foot,” Meredith said, putting out one leg, arching her calf muscle. “Give me an idea how you’ll be later when you service my cunt.”

  A wet thrill shot through the girl as she moved to obey. It had never occurred to her, never entered her thoughts that she might play games like this with an older woman. And such a bitchy one at that. Very delicately now, she licked the front of the expensive shoe, the dildo still firmly tucked inside of her.

  Meredith laughed lightly, seeing her diligence. With surprising gentleness, she said, “Don’t worry about your mother, young lady. I’ve arranged for her to get what she needs most, and from the hands of a real pro. After that, I think she’ll find life will look up for her in many ways.”

  Reyna didn’t know why, but she trusted this woman. Like she really would do good things for them.

  “Better come inside, sweetie.” Meredith moved gracefully to the open front door and Reyna followed, like a puppy.

  “How about we get you cleaned up and dressed, huh, kiddo?”

  Reyna looked up from the living room floor, strangely disappointed. “But aren’t you going to...”

  “Fuck you, dear?” Meredith’s grin slanted wickedly as she folded her arms. “No, not just yet. You see, I haven’t quite figured out yet which you are, top or bottom. I need to do an experiment first. Up for a road trip?”

  She nodded. Though she knew she shouldn’t be.

  Meredith never touched her the whole time she was in the shower, though she insisted the door be kept open so she could watch. Her every movement was scripted as Merry told her in graphic detail how to clean herself. Largely, it was an exercise in voyeurism, the actual hygiene part having been accomplished in the first five minutes.

  The woman’s instructions, which were cool and crafted, drove her to distraction as she was made to stimulate but not relieve herself. By the time she was done the soap was worn almost to the shape of her dildo and yet she’d been denied even a single orgasm. It almost hurt to towel herself, she was so sensitive.

  “These will do,” Meredith said, picking out a black miniskirt and white see through blouse for her to wear. “Come and put them on.”

  Reyna looked at the skimpy outfit laid out for her on the bed. Cynthia hated such clothes on her, and even Reyna herself had to be in just the right mood to pull it off. Swallowing she asked, “What about underwear?”

  “You don’t need any, dear. Not where we’re going.” Pulling a cell phone from her purse, she made a call to someone named Foster, ascertaining that he’d finished a job for her. Meredith fired questions, kept saying ‘good’, in response to his answers.

  The content of these questions, totally sexual and sadistic, were making her flush all over. Pulling on the scant outfit with trembling hands, she tried not to listen.

  “You used the electrodes on her nipples and cunt? Good.”

  Buttoning the blouse, she saw with horror that the flimsy material did not even begin to conceal her rosy nipples or aureoles.

  “And you used her both anally and vaginally? Good.”

  Smoothing the skirt, she tried to imagine how she’d walk around like this. She could feel the air wafting up inside of her, titillating, aggravating.

  “Did you come on her face? It dried there? Good.”

  Reyna bit her lip, rubbed her legs together. With her hands, she caressed her silk covered tits.

  “And she was shackled the whole time? Good.”

  Reyna felt a hand in her hair, interrupting her reverie.

  “No touching,” Meredith chastised, pulling harder till she had to put her hands down. Then on the phone she added, “No, let her get cleaned up and leave her some cab money. I want you and Tony to meet us here with the big car. We’ll be gone before she gets back here. Bye.”

  Reyna’s eyes lit up. It dawned on her now that the tortured woman Meredith was talking about was her mother. “You cunt!” she screamed, grabbing at the woman’s neck.

  Meredith moved so swiftly that Reyna never had time to react. It was some kind of karate, and in one move, she was down, the older woman on top of her. Laid out flat on her back, arms pinned over her head, squirming uselessly, she cried, “Stop, you’re hurting me!”

  “Quit whining,” Meredith chastised, releasing the girl’s hands so she could pull down her panties and mount the younger girl’s face. “It doesn’t become you.”

  Reyna dabbed her tongue at the proffered pussy, enjoying the feel of servicing this strong woman who was everything she wished she and her mother could be. When Meredith began to moan softly, throwing back her head in pleasure, Reyna swelled with pride, determined to give her the best head she’d ever had.

  But Meredith didn’t let her finish. “Wipe your face,” she instructed, climbing off her and throwing her a towel. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

  Confused, way beyond aroused, Reyna stood, letting Meredith finish her outfit by taking the long strand of pearls from her own neck and putting it on hers. She thought she’d faint as the taller woman stood behind her, her breath a whisper in her ear, her long fingernails bestowing electrifyingly light touches as she reconnected the shimmering pearls. Reyna wanted to melt against her, wanted to give herself, an untouched vessel to be opened and discovered by this mysterious goddess.

  But Meredith was holding them both back, keeping them for something else. What that might be she had no idea. She only knew that as they walked out the door that she was floating, feeling alive as she never had in her life.

  It was like a dream seeing the limousine in her driveway. The driver was one of the biggest men she’d ever seen, but affable enough with his long ponytail and his funny accent. She tried to correct him when he opened the door for her and called her Sheila, but Meredith explained that this was a term for any girl in his country. Reyna had never even met a person from outside the United States, nor had she ever been in a car big enough to have a bar and a television.

  There was another guy, much smaller, and he was making a show of looking her up and down. Scantily clad and barefoot, she must have been a fetching sight. Sh
e’d wanted her flip flops, but Merry said they weren’t real shoes and she was better off without them. The seat was way soft, and Reyna sighed happily as she sat. Leaving the smaller man, Tony, to drive her car home, Meredith got in after her and closed the door.

  Cynthia had told her once she’d ridden in a limo when her mother died, but there wasn’t any bar. “Can I have something to drink?” Reyna asked, wishing Merry had sat next to her and not in the row of seats facing her.

  “Not unless you’re twenty-one, dear.”

  “No,” she laughed, “I meant soda.” She wondered now how T-Top was doing, speaking of not drinking. He’d bragged about going through rehab four times. Personally, she wasn’t planning on going back even a second time. Six weeks of having her brain picked apart by shrinks and support groups was enough for one lifetime, thank you very much.

  Idly, Reyna imagined what it would have been like if she’d bedded the gangly T-Top. God, she thought, squeezing her legs, was her every thought going to turn to sex today? This wasn’t like her. Yes, she flirted all of the time, even threw herself at males, but that was all reverse psychology, designed to scare them off. Cynthia never had understood that about her.

  No one had. Except Jason. She hadn’t rattled him with her sexiness at all. In fact, he’d called her bluff and won her heart—not to mention her body. She hoped he’d enjoyed the prize. She certainly had. Damn it, she missed him.

  “Miami is a long way off, kiddo,” Meredith interjected, kicking off her shoes and flexing her bare toes against Reyna’s knees from across the other seat. “Too long for such a sad face.”

  Reyna parted her legs, set her hands down next to her, palms up. “What’s in Miami?”

  “Paradise, if you play your cards right.”

  “Hmm,” Reyna sighed, arching her back. “So cut the deck already.”

  Meredith pulled back her taunting feet. “Open the compartment by the door,” she instructed. Reyna’s heart began to thud as she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Steel and very real looking.

  “Lay down, arms over your head and chain yourself to the little strap by the door handle. That’s right, run the links through the opening.”

  Reyna had to lie flat on her back, stretching herself on the very rich black upholstery. She had to bend her head all the way back and it was tricky but finally she succeeded in closing the second cuff on her wrist, the chain running between the ends of the strap beside the door handle.

  She was a prisoner now and she shuddered with wicked delight as she settled herself into a position of sweet bondage, laid out on the limo seat. Anticipating quick release, she thrust out her breasts and opened her legs as invitingly as she could manage. Did Meredith find her pretty? She hoped so. Looking across, she expected to see the woman undressing, making a move. But she just sat there, legs crossed, sipping a glass of champagne.

  “Tell me what you want, Reyna.”

  “I want to come.”

  She shook her head. “No, sweetie, what you want is a cock. Say it.”

  “I want a cock,” she heard herself say.

  “I could give you to Foster, you know.” She paused now for dramatic emphasis. “He’s the one I sent to your mother. Do you know she’s such a pain slut she actually begged for it? I bet you’ll beg, too, Reyna.”

  Reyna stiffened, her pleasure seeking urges suddenly overridden by pure venom. No one could hurt her mother and get away with it. “I’ll never beg, you smug bitch. No matter what you do to me! And whatever you did to Cynthia, I’ll do to you twice as bad!”

  Meredith removed her sunglasses, studied the captive’s face. “Yes,” she agreed at last, “I believe you would.” Leaning forward to unzip her red dress, she pulled it over her head. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

  Reyna watched as she crawled across the seat, clad only in black panties and bra. Her body really was superb, fit and trim. “Of course,” she crooned, unbuttoning Reyna’s blouse, “I do still have to punish you.”

  She moaned as Meredith seized her left nipple between her teeth. In between bites she said, “Just so you know, your mother could have stopped it at any point. Foster gave her a safe signal, but she never used it.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Reyna moaned, as she felt teeth clamping her other nipple.

  Meredith’s hands were under her skirt, seizing her cunt with her long nails. “Oh, I agree, honey, you shouldn’t trust me at all. Now tell me again what a bitch I am.”

  “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

  “What I am right now is your Mistress, aren’t I?” Meredith said, pricking her to the verge of orgasm and holding her there.

  Reyna threw back her head, caught up in the moment. “Yes! Yes, Mistress!”

  “If I give you to Foster, you will crawl to him and service him with your slut body, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” she hissed, her voice a spurt of uncaged air. “I’ll do anything.”

  “Like you laid for my son? And his little girlfriends?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Meredith snaked a finger into her rectum, maintaining the vaginal pressure. “Suppose we just pick up some hitchhiker for you, hmm? Do you feel up for a little unprotected sex with a derelict?”

  From her head to her feet she was spasming, seeking out release, desperately pressing her enflamed nude body against Meredith. “I’ll do whatever you say,” she conceded at last, her pride and will surrendered to the heat of the older woman’s touch.

  Twisting her other hand cruelly onto an exposed heaving breast, Meredith made Reyna beg. And so she did, tears welling up, as she said the most outrageous things, promising her very soul, betraying everyone and everything she ever knew. At last, when she was so near the breaking point she thought her very identity might shatter, Meredith consented to finish her off.

  With a flick of the wrist, like turning a faucet, Meredith brought her to orgasm. She shuddered and shook; all of her, orgasm included, belonged at that moment to the will of Meredith Trace. When she finally came to her senses, she found herself still cuffed, lying on the seat. Meredith was sitting across from her with a fresh glass of champagne. She’d removed her panties and now she was sitting bare assed on the seat, looking at her hungrily, eyes glowing like a cat’s as she sipped the sparkling liquid.

  “Well, dear,” she crooned, “glad to see you’re still with us. It’s a good thing, too, because now it’s my turn.”

  Reyna licked her lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

  Meredith leaned across and ran a finger over Reyna’s mouth. “If I let you go, little kitten, will you bite or play nice?”

  Taking the finger deep, she showed Merry what she would do, licking and sucking it luxuriantly. Almost giggling, her eyes lit up like Christmas, Merry undid the handcuffs. Reyna scrambled at once to the floor, taking her position between the woman’s legs. Making full, deep swipes with her tongue, she began her work. Still in her open blouse and tiny skirt, she spent the remainder of the two hundred mile trip between Meredith Trace’s legs, her face firmly clamped between surprisingly well-muscled thighs coaxing orgasm after orgasm from her Mistress.

  Remarkably, she continued to come herself, even without being touched. Meredith hadn’t lied when she’d said it would be paradise that much was for sure. And to think they hadn’t even gotten to Miami yet. Wickedly, Reyna wondered what could possibly top this even as she felt them cascading together towards yet another explosion.

  Chapter Seven

  Cynthia’s hand was frozen on the motel room door. Her mouth hung open, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe. Quite literally, he was the last person she’d ever expected to see.

  “Hello, Cynthia,” Shep offered at last, ending the silence.

  When her own voice finally came it was in spurts, incomplete thoughts. “But how did you—where did you…”

  “A little bird told me you were here.” His sky blue eyes drank in the sight of her, freshly showered, redressed from her ordeal. “You look good,
Cynthia.”

  She blushed. “Oh, I don’t think that’s very true.”

  “More than you know,” he replied softly, his voice sounding so sincere it made her want to cry.

  “I—I’d invite you in,” she explained, trying to keep her composure. “But this isn’t really my room.”

  “I understand. How about if we go somewhere for a cup of coffee?”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” She lowered her eyes, trying to avoid his gaze. God, he looked good. The tiny lines beside his eyes only made him more handsome, gave him character. As for his hair, it was still short, like hay spun with gold, and only marginally thinner. “I should really go home and check on my daughter. Maybe some other time.”

  A slight frown crossed his face. “As you wish.” A quick nod of his head and he moved to turn away.

  Don’t let him go, you fool, not again! Stop him this time!

  “Shep, wait.”

  He turned back, looking smashing in his jeans and khaki shirt. Muscle wise, he hadn’t suffered any over time either. “Yes, Cynthia?”

  She smiled shyly. “Maybe just for a little while. After I run home and check on Reyna? And maybe change my clothes?”

  He smiled back, sending her heart skipping like a ram up a spring mountain. “I’ll drive.”

  Grabbing her purse, leaving the now vacant scene of her torture session behind, Cynthia rushed out to meet him. He put his arm across her. The feel of his strong capable hand was delicious on her denim covered back, although she really needed to ditch these stale clothes before their date.

  A date. Lord, was it really that? A date with Shep after all these years?

  “So you have a child?” he said at last, after they’d ridden some distance down the road.

  Stretching her legs in the roomy Land Rover she said, “Yes. Reyna just turned eighteen last spring. But I’m not with her father,” she added hastily. “I’m not married or anything, I mean.”

 

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