Nimbly her fingers worked the buttons on the back of her dress. Lifting the hem, she pulled it over her head, letting it drop to the polished wood floor. Quickly, her bra and panties followed. It was nakedness she craved, in all its power and honesty. Letting her hands fly through her hair, she readied herself, warming to her task, realizing as she did the existence of the deepest pent up parts of herself.
How natural the wooden porch floor felt to her knees. How she craved to know every inch of his home this way, with the soft receptors of her girl flesh. Upon hands and knees now she went, head bowed, going to him, softly padding, stealthily, approaching so close that he never saw it coming, never had time to react. Before he even realized she was there, her head was to his foot, her delicate lips pressed to the dusty rawhide boot. Kissing passionately, cat-like, slave-like.
Startled, nearly leaping from his seat, Shep drew a sharp breath. “Cynthia, what are you doing?”
“Finding my way home,” she replied, her voice soft and small, as faint and lovely as the airy breeze. “Master.”
The declaration sent coils of pleasure down her torso, from her breasts to her aching vagina. How she’d waited to use that word, how she’d dreamed of this moment, like a fairy tale that could never be.
He did leap now, scooting back from her like she was fire. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he accused.
“I do, my Master,” she promised, wrapping her arms round his ankles, prostrating herself.
“Cynthia, get up.” He worked his fingers to a place on her upper arms where he could hoist her to her feet. “And stop calling me that!”
“Yes, Master,” she smiled pleasantly. “But it you let me go, I will only fall back to your feet, where I belong.”
Fists clenched, his face clamped now in denial.
“It’s true, Shep, and you know it. From the moment you first laid eyes on me, you staked your claim. From that first kiss at the picnic, under all those stars, you spoiled me for freedom. It was my heat for you that Meredith and Cal sniffed out so cleverly. They figured out how to have me, but I belonged to you. And I always will.”
He thrust her away, as though the heat of her skin, the heat of her very words would burn him. Poison him. “You don’t know what you are asking, Cynthia. You can’t imagine it. Don’t you know what these hands have done?”
He held them out to her, trembling, and she took them in her own much smaller ones. “These are the hands of a strong man, the hands of my Master; they were meant to control, to caress, to strike, to punish, to possess. Won’t you allow yourself the pleasures you crave, Master? Look at me. I crave you. I juice for you, even my nipples dance for you. Oh, Master, why do you torture us both? Give in, I beg you! Use me, humble me, bend me to your will. Make me yours! Leave me no choice!”
Cynthia was pressing herself, pitifully, begging with every inch of her for the domination she so badly needed. He had to see it; why couldn’t he see it?
“Look at me,” she cried, pulling a finger from her own moist center, holding it to his face. “I am nothing but your horny, wet slut. Why do you tolerate my freedom, my arrogance?” Boldly she shoved the glistering finger under his nose.
Shep released a guttural growl, extending his fist-clenched hands, as though he strained against bonds. Whatever was holding him, he was fighting it like a drowning man. “Very well,” he rumbled, his eyes lit like a storm. “You want to play games? You think you have even a clue what you are asking me? Well, then, you are going to find out!”
Cynthia nearly cried with joy as he seized the mane of her hair in one of those glorious fists, forcing her down, in a single effortless motion so that she was bent at the waist.
In her belly she felt the spasms. Her Master was going to take control at last, at long last. She had no option but to walk at his side, her lowered head at the level of his crotch. Shep was marching her back to the shrine, the room that would make any female cringe—and a few cream with abandon.
Naked, at his mercy, it looked so different now. So personal, with everything there having meaning now, a profundity she could not earlier grasp. He took his time, looking about, as if deciding what to do to her first. She could feel the come drip down her leg. This was so arousing, so heavenly.
“Take a look around you, woman.” He inserted a finger of his other hand up her exposed rectum even as he held her at his waist. “Is this what you want? Whips, chains, torture? No rights, subject to every male cruelty, all day every day, the rest of your life?”
Cynthia felt the butterfly flips, the weak, hot belly feeling surging, pervading, threatening to overwhelm her, melt her to a puddle. Oh, God, yes, she wanted to cry out, this is exactly what I want.
“How about the rack?” He inserted the finger deeper, making her squirm. “Want a few hours up there, while I play with your tits and cunt? Or what about a night shackled to the wall? Does that turn you on?”
She closed her eyes, letting the sarcasm wash over her. The answer was right in front of their faces, and they both knew it, if he could only accept the truth. His impotence was only because he wasn’t following his true nature, she was sure of it.
Cynthia moaned, unable to help herself.
“You’re disgusting,” he declared. “I have just the thing for you.”
The cage was small. Made for a large dog but more than equipped to hold a willful female, one in need of discipline and training. Cynthia had to enter on her hands and knees. There was no other way. The lock was real, probably too flimsy to hold a man, but more than enough to contain her.
“See what a little time in here does for you.” Shep filled the water dish, passed it through a tiny opening at the base.
He was preparing to leave. She watched him, her hands on the bars, her breasts pressed against the thin metal rods. “Master, what if I need to pee?”
Muttering under his breath, he scavenged for a second bowl, put it beside the first, practically throwing it through the little opening.
“Thank you, Master,” she said, as though he’d given her a mink coat.
Eyes blazing, he whirled off, not stopping till he’d swatted the light switch off and shoved the door noisily behind him. In the pale darkness Cynthia licked her lips, drinking in her situation. She’d been caged; she was nude, in the home of her one true love, her Master. A reluctant Master, yes. Lost, timid even, not to mention broken, but he had the will, she knew he did, along with all the equipment right around him to tame her, to make her his slave in every sense of the word.
Wrapping herself round this most delicious, most erotic possibility, Cynthia lay herself down, curling into a ball. She must sleep now. She needed her rest. Her Master would want her, and soon. She was sure of it. More sure than she had been of anything in her life. For even though she was the one in the cage, she knew that by closing her in it, he’d put his own heart behind bars as well.
Chapter Nine
Reyna was going to kill those two if they didn’t stop giggling.
“Hush!” she whispered forcefully in the direction of Kimmy and Missy who were occupying their sneak attack position inside the entrance to the darkened storage unit. “He’ll be here any minute!”
Clamping hands over each other’s mouths, ditzes to the last, they finally settled down. It had been a real trip winning them over to her idea for trapping Jason, and now she only hoped she didn’t live to regret it once he arrived.
Really, it was a brilliant plan. Having lured him here to the storage unit with the promise of hot bondage over the phone, she’d neglected to tell him that the one enslaved tonight would be him. All Kimmy and Missy would have to do was rush him and throw the blanket over his head, while she did her part to distract him using her short skirt and leather top from the Miami trip.
They’d only need a few seconds grace for her to wrap the belt round his stomach pinning his arms under the blanket. He’d be blinded then and helpless from the waist up, which would make it a cinch to get him down and work his wrists
into the handcuffs.
It had certainly been a piece of cake to convince him to meet her here. Being a woman of just eighteen, she’d already learned one crucial thing about men: no matter how upset they are about something, they can be sidetracked completely with even a hint of sex.
And Reyna had done more than hint, breathing heavily into the line, telling him what she was doing to herself with her fingers and how she was putting clothespins on her nipples even as she spoke. “I’ve been a bad girl, Jason,” she’d laid it on thickly. “And you have to come and punish me.”
Actually, she hadn’t been doing anything other than touching up her nail polish, but it had worked like gangbusters. Maybe she could be one of those phone sex operators if things didn’t pan out with her and Jason. Giving him an hour to get there, she went ahead and set things up with the Dummy Twins, who were more than eager to help once she threatened to go to the police with assault charges. Jason himself had given her their numbers, not realizing what was in store for him. Of course she never would turn the girls in, but they didn’t know that.
Reyna had told them to wear black. Kimmy had complied with a lacy black bra over her yummy c-cups and pair of spandex running shorts. Missy had a black sports bra and a short skirt. Reyna hadn’t liked their shoes at all, so she had them ditch them and go barefoot.
“Quiet!” she warned. “I hear something.”
A car was pulling up. The girls stopped giggling. It was Jason, it had to be. The only other one who’d ever come would be Meredith, and this time she’d been warned ahead of time. To Merry’s credit, she’d actually sanctioned the scene, agreeing her son needed a dose of his own medicine. Apparently their night in Miami had bonded Meredith to her in a big way and now she could do no wrong in the woman’s sight. It was hard not to laugh imagining what Jason would say if he knew about his mother’s extracurricular love life.
There was a rattling at the big rolling door. She motioned for the girls to move in closer as the door opened. She really would beat their pretty asses if they messed this up. It was Jason, and as soon as he was inside, he tried to turn on the lights. Reyna had disabled them, of course, having set up instead a series of candles.
“Close the door,” she instructed. Damn, he looked good in his t-shirt and baggy jeans, and it thrilled her that she would shortly be doing to him whatever she wanted. He had wet hair, too, from the shower, and it was all she could do to keep from running up to him and throwing herself at him.
“Hi, lover,” she crooned, once his eyes had adjusted to the light. “Like what you see?” she asked, striking an irresistible pose, hands sliding her skirt up above her waist revealing her bare snatch. Jason eyes were glued. He had that stupefied, universal look all men get when they think they’re about to get lucky. The blanket went down over his head before he knew what hit him. To their credit, the girls didn’t flinch as they locked their arms around his waist, pinning his arms.
“Hey, what gives?!” he cried from under the wool covering.
Reyna gave no quarter, buckling the thick leather belt tight around him before he could figure out how to fight back.
“Take him down,” Reyna ordered. “Now.”
All three of them took their places. Kimmy and Missy pushed him from behind while Reyna got on all fours. Predictably, he took a step forward to steady himself, falling promptly over Reyna’s crouched body. There was the mattress for him to land on so the only thing hurt was his pride.
“Oof!” he exclaimed.
The girls were right there to unlace his boots as soon as he went down. Tickling his stocking feet was enough distraction for Reyna to gather his hands from under the blanket and connect them behind his back in handcuffs.
Now he was mad, thrashing with full male strength, grunting in such a totally cute way and calling her all sorts of names. They let him flop around for a while, wearing himself out. When he was good and tired, they rolled him to his back and worked the blanket over his head.
His eyes were sexy and angry. Like a trapped animal. Pussy gushing, Reyna yanked the front of his shirt over his head and planted a hickey on the middle of his chest. With Kimmy and Missy sitting on his legs, there wasn’t much he could do as she silenced his protests with a dowel between his teeth. Once it was strapped behind his head, Reyna pulled off her own top, so as to sap any strength he had left with the sight of her tits.
Sure enough all he did was look at her lustfully, drooling down his chin as Kimmy and Missy stripped off his jeans and underwear. The look of shock as he realized the extent of his exposure made Reyna totally wet and ready. With Kimmy and Missy parked on each leg, and having no leverage on his upper body, Jason Trace was completely helpless.
“How does it feel with the shoe on the other foot?” Reyna asked sweetly, sitting on his chest and letting him buck underneath her, raising his hips as much as he could manage. When she’d had enough of his resistance, she decided to make him instantly docile, reaching around behind with her sharp nailed fingers to clasp his penis. Instantly, he froze.
“I think you’d better be a good boy now, don’t you?” she asked, digging her nails in to make her point.
Eyes wild, beads of sweat on his forehead, he nodded vigorously.
“That’s much better,” she smiled. “Slave.”
His brow furrowed for a moment, but as she cupped his balls menacingly, he relaxed obediently.
Reyna paused to breathe in the rush. This scene was proving to be totally over the top. “You done down there?” she called over her shoulder to the girls who were hard at work on their next assignment.
“Uh huh,” they cried in unison.
Reyna grinned wickedly. “Hey, honey, try your legs now.”
Jason grimaced, using full force, then gave up.
“It’s called a spreader bar,” she explained, mimicking the words he once used on her. “Only this time, I attached it to a fifty pound weight. By the way, you’ll find the rest of this will hurt less if you bite down on the gag.”
Jason’s eyes betrayed shock. His beautiful body, however, looked perfectly placed, tanned, leanly muscled and at her mercy. As for his cock, it was rock hard, sprung upright like she’d never seen it before. Reyna licked her lips. He might try to act like he hated this, but his body said otherwise.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun, baby,” she informed him, cupping her firm tits as she rolled them about, her ass still perched on his stomach. “And when I say ‘we’, I mean us girls.”
She had Kimmy and Missy start on his toes, after they stripped naked, right in front of his face.
“One little rule, honey,” she told him, grinding her pussy against his stomach, just above his tantalized cock. “You can’t come until we say so. Cause if you do...”
Reyna lowered herself down, pressing her breasts to his chest and breathing right into his ear. “Cause if you do, we’re going to leave you like this, all hot and bothered for Mommy to find.”
Jason clenched his fists in fury, wriggling impotently. She put a stop to that by turning herself about so she could lick his cock. All at once, he was a transparent bundle of need, a mass of blatant male desire. In times past, she’d seen the act of fellatio as submissive, but as she worked him with her tongue lips and teeth, she realized now the power of her position. He was at her mercy. She could give pain or pleasure.
Kimmy and Missy were driving him wild down below, sucking his toes, working their way up his legs. That is, when they could resist the urge to kiss and finger each other.
Reyna went real slow, making him wait agonizing seconds between her full wet laps. It was a total rush being able to make his face change in an instant from the pure joy of a baby to the whimpering simpers of a horny boy slut.
She gave him credit for holding out. When she’d decided she’d had enough teasing, she offered him a deal.
“If we take off the gag,” she said sweetly, standing up to take off the skirt, giving him an eyeful of her nude body, “will you be a good boy and
keep quiet?”
He nodded cooperatively.
“Oh, I know you will.” She winked, undoing the dowel and putting herself promptly into a sixty-nine position, burying her crotch in his face, “because I have a little insurance policy.
He made a brutal protest noise as her muff suctioned to his mouth. Meanwhile, beneath where he could see, she slipped on the cock ring, tightened it and checked its efficiency with the attached cord. She really would have to thank Merry for giving her all these neat toys.
Imagine if Jason knew where she got all this stuff!
“Here’s the deal,” she explained, giving the ring a tentative tug as she wiggled her tail in his face. “You lick pussy real good tonight, for all three of us and I won’t make your cock turn blue. Sound like a deal?”
She heard him slobbering, took his eager attention to her clit to be a yes.
“Good boy.” She took a deep breath, dove down onto his imprisoned cock. It wouldn’t be long now, not long at all. Jason was no expert, not like Merry or Atlas, but he made up for it in enthusiasm. Plus she loved him, which made it the best sensation in the world.
Reyna’s release was sweet, wild and happy and it felt so good just being on top of her lover, getting his full attention this way. Dreamily, she relinquished her place to Kimmy, then Missy. The poor boy really did lick pussy all night, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Can we fuck him?” Missy asked an hour later, popping her head up from Kimmy’s pussy, the latter on all fours in front of her as she straddled Jason’s face.
“No, sluts, you can’t,” Reyna replied crossly. In fact, it was high time she mounted her man herself. Shooing them off to do their own thing—she was sure now they were bisexual—she stood over the bound and weary Jason, posing for him, putting to best advantage her lush little body.
“How about it, baby?” she asked, doing nasty little things with her tattoo as she gyrated her torso. “Would you like to be fucked by your Mistress?”
Bondage Town Page 14
