by Lacey Kane
I screamed over his cock with a new orgasm. He let out a shout as his semen shot down my throat in steady bursts, forcing me to either swallow or drown in it.
Finally, he pulled out of my mouth with a pop, and I heard his zipper. I gasped for air and worked my jaw, thankful that at least for a moment or two I might be left alone.
“Prepare her in this. I’ll be waiting in the car.” The heels of his expensive shoes clicked across the hardwood floor moving away from me.
He’d only been gone for a minute or so when another man moved behind my chair, leaning over me. With quick hands, he freed my neck, wrists, and ankles, and then pulled me unsteadily to my feet. It had been so long since I’d been able to use my legs to support myself that my muscles seemed to have forgotten how. While I wobbled, holding onto his shoulders for support, he lifted my legs one at a time so I could step into something.
Panties? My brain struggled to comprehend what was happening even as he pulled them up my legs. When he had it in place, though, I knew this was no ordinary pair of panties. They were crafted out of some thin, lightweight metal, sculpted perfectly to cup all of my curves without actually pressing against them completely. He tightened something at the back, then settled a lock into place. There were openings along the sides between a band at my waist and more around my thighs. But it fit so perfectly against me that nothing would get close to my pussy, my ass…or my clit.
It was like a chastity belt. Good lord.
I hadn’t come close to adjusting to the sensation of wearing metal panties when he started putting something else on my top. A metal bra, made out of the same material, that cupped my tits but left just a breath of air between the metal and my nipples. He fitted the straps over my shoulders and tightened a band around my back, then I heard another lock click into place.
Again, there was no way anything was getting inside to touch my nipples.
He slipped some slinky black dress over my head, tugged it into place so it almost covered my ass, and then handed me a pair of black stilettos. I slid my feet into them and then tried to adjust the dress. When I tugged it down, though, my metal-covered tits were clearly visible. I readjusted it, trying to find some sort of happy medium, but no matter how it hung it was either too short at the bottom or too low-cut at the top.
But then again, unless we were going to be somewhere in public, it wouldn’t exactly matter. Most likely, whoever this guy was who had just spent a million dollars so he could fuck me for five years wanted nothing more than to take me home and fuck me.
But if that was the case…why the chastity belt and bra?
When I finally stopped fiddling with the fabric, the man I’d been left with took me by the arm and tugged me off the stage I’d been on, forcing me to nearly run in my stilettos in order to keep pace. He led me through a series of hallways, winding through what seemed to be a maze.
When we finally reached a large black exit door, it opened to the night air and a nearly pitch-black sky. The moon was hidden behind the side of the unmarked building we’d been in, but a few stars were peeking out from behind clouds. A single car was parked beside the building with the engine running and the parking lights on, situated in such a way I couldn’t see the license plate. It was black, sleek, and the windows were tinted so I couldn’t make out anything inside.
The man I was with pulled me up to the car, opened the passenger side door, and set me unceremoniously inside. I’d barely pulled my legs in when he slammed the door shut.
“Fasten your belt.”
It was the man who’d purchased my indenture. I recognized his deep, gravelly voice. I shivered at the lack of emotion in it…the lack of anything, actually. It was cold. Quiet. Commanding.
After I complied and belted myself in place, I turned my head to look at him. His face was hard, all lines and angles with dark, dispassionate eyes and a strong jaw. He had black hair with a few streaks of silver. I imagined he was probably in his late-thirties or early-forties.
I was just about to open my mouth and ask him what his name was when he grabbed me by the back of the neck with one hand, pulled me toward him, and kissed me. His tongue forced its way inside my mouth, mimicking the way he’d fucked my mouth with his cock only minutes before. My aching breasts and sex ached even more, desperate for some soothing touch to calm the fire that hadn’t stopped, but my metal undergarments prevented that. By the time he pulled back, I was panting, frantic, feeling a primal, liquid need that was to go unheeded.
“Put your arms behind the seat,” he ordered.
Still dazed, I did as he commanded. He turned in his seat and reached behind me, taking my wrists and settling them into some sort of restraining device on the back of my chair. I felt cold metal locking into place, and I whimpered.
“Silence.” He opened the center console and retrieved something…black cloth of some sort. Then he slid it over my eyes and settled the strap behind my head.
I couldn’t see anything. Again. I tried to keep quiet, but a small moan slipped between my lips at the injustice of it all.
“Open your mouth.”
I didn’t even think about not obeying. As soon as my lips spread open, something cold and mostly inflexible pressed inside. Something that felt suspiciously like a cock, only not as long or lifelike. He pushed it back through my teeth. When the base met my lips, the head was nearly as far back as my gag reflex but not quite. He shoved my head forward and fastened a buckle behind my head, making certain I couldn’t remove the gag.
Something cold and metal came around my neck again, like the ring on the back of the chair. It settled into place, and I heard the click of a lock.
He closed the center console. Taking a fistful of fabric from my dress, he tugged the skirt up and the top down, revealing my metal undergarments to his eyes.
Then the car shifted into gear.
He drove in silence for a long time. Being blindfolded, and not having a clue where we’d started out from, there was no possible way I could determine where we were, let alone where he intended to take me.
In the stillness, I spent my time trying to figure out ways to escape my predicament. Enslavement (whether it was called indentured servitude or otherwise) wasn’t legal, and that contract couldn’t have been either. Somehow, some way, I would find a way out of this mess.
If he was planning to take me somewhere public, like I imagined he must be since he had bothered to put clothing on me, maybe I could talk to someone, tell them what was happening. Surely he wouldn’t have me walking around like I was. Surely someone would help.
As it was, though, I was getting so hungry that I couldn’t really think very well. I hadn’t eaten anything in nearly twenty-four hours, maybe even longer than that. My stomach was grumbling loud enough that he had to hear it. A sex slave who starved to death wouldn’t be very much use to anyone, so he undoubtedly recognized the importance of feeding me. Didn’t he?
But still, he kept driving. He didn’t have the radio on. He wasn’t making a sound. He just drove. I could only assume we were on a highway, because he seemed to be able to maintain his speed. That was all I could tell, though.
Eventually, the car slowed. He made a few turns, left, then right, then right again. When he stopped the car, instead of the engine shutting down I heard the sound of the window lowering, and a cool breeze filtered in through his side.
“How can I help you, sir?” a female voice asked.
I squirmed, wishing I could disappear. Whoever she was, she had to be able to see me even though it was dark…my metal panties and bra sticking out from a tiny dress, the gag in my mouth (though at least the shape of it shouldn’t be evident), the blindfold, the fact that my arms were locked into place behind me.
“Two of my usual.” His response was direct. Terse, almost, but always quiet.
Just the sound of his voice after so long sent a jolt of heat down to my sex, somehow. Good grief, why? I didn’t understand it in the slightest.
“Right away,�
�� she replied.
We sat there with the engine running and his window down. The longer it took, the more breathless I felt from knowing someone else was seeing me like this.
Then his hand brushed along the inside of my upper thigh, a soft, sensual touch that made me quiver all over. After a few moments of that, he forcefully pushed my legs apart until I was nearly straddling my seat. Gentle again, he trailed the tips of his fingers along the edge of my metal panties, a whisper of a touch that nearly undid me.
I couldn’t help myself. I moaned into my gag with raw need.
That was when the girl returned. “Here you are, sir. It’s been added to your bill.”
I detected a laugh in her voice. She found my predicament amusing.
But it wasn’t funny. It was insane. That’s what it was.
He lifted something into the car and set it in the back, thanked her, and then closed his window and pulled back onto the road. The scent of steak and garlic wafted up to my nostrils, teasing me. My stomach rumbled incessantly now that there was a vague promise of something filling it, and I moaned as my mouth began to water at the thought.
After a few more turns, the car yet again slowed and stopped. This time, he shut off the engine. He got out, then came around to open my door. He undid my seatbelt and then hooked something into the metal collar around my neck. When he released my wrists, he kept a solid grip on one of them and pulled me from the car by the thing attached to my collar. I’d barely gained my feet when he shoved my front against the side of the car, pulled both arms behind my back, and handcuffed them into place.
He didn’t remove my blindfold. Nor did he take the gag out of my mouth. With my dress bunched about my waist, he took the food from the back seat and tugged on the thing attached to my collar—a leash?—then started walking. I stumbled along behind him, thankful I didn’t hear any other voices, for several steps.
A door opened in front of us and he led me inside. Then I heard voices. A lot of them. At first, I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I hurried along behind him, hoping we would get away from whoever was seeing me in such a humiliating state if I moved faster.
But then the laughter started.
“Get a load of her. A leash, just like a dog.”
“Insane. Those are metal.”
“Wonder what she did to deserve that.”
“Disgusting.”
The more I heard, the faster I walked. But then I bumped into him. He wasn’t moving any faster. In fact, once I slowed to his pace I realized he was moving far more slowly than he had before we came inside.
He was putting me on display. Showing me off. I wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere and die.
Then he stopped, and I was forced to stop as well. We stood where we were until a ding sounded, then he moved me forward onto what I assumed was an elevator. He backed me into a corner and stood in front of me while others filed in behind us. When the door closed and it started moving up, he released the gag from behind my head.
I panicked. Everyone would see it was shaped like a penis if he took it out!
So of course, he took it out. A stream of my drool followed it, flowing down to land on my chest. Amidst more laughter and horrid comments, he reached behind me to press it into one of my hands.
“On your knees,” he said quietly, but there was a steely note of command in his tone.
Shaking, more humiliated than I’d ever been in my life, I bent down until I was on both knees on the elevator floor.
It stopped, and some people got off, allowing more space. But he didn’t back away. He pressed closer, shoving my face against his hard cock. The fabric of his pants was all that prevented me from sucking him off right there in the elevator with an audience.
“Lick,” he said.
So I licked the fabric.
I felt some of the onlookers moving closer as the elevator renewed its ascent. Then he took my head with both hands, holding it in place just where he wanted it, and thrust his hips forward like he was fucking me.
His cock got harder, abrading my cheek and open mouth and tongue with the rough material of his pants. Someone knelt down next to me and started running his hands over my body, then another, running just along the edges of my metal undergarments. As the journey upward continued and more and more people were touching me, I started to lose my inhibitions. I felt hot, needy. I wanted those hands to squeeze my breasts, to rub on my clit, to spank my ass and press up inside me. But those damned contraptions prevented all of that, leaving me more frustrated than I knew how to handle.
More and more people got off, until only the man dry humping my face and I were left on the elevator. When the bell dinged again and the doors opened, he released my head and took up my leash. “Crawl on your knees after me.”
Crawling on your knees without the aid of your hands isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do. But I followed him as well as I could, despite the pain in my knees.
After a few feet, he stopped and opened a door, then led me inside. Only after I’d followed him down what seemed to be a very long hallway did he stop again. He picked me up and set me upon a chair. Then he pulled both of my thighs wide, forcing me into a virtual split. The chair had knee and ankle braces on the side, which he quickly put in place so I couldn’t move even an inch. He took the cock gag from my hand. My handcuffs were released, but my freedom was short-lived. He pulled each arm behind me, one at a time, bending them into ninety-degree angles at the elbows. My right wrist was attached to my left elbow and vice versa, and those were then attached to the back of the chair.
Finally, he removed my blindfold.
Blinking, I looked around to see a huge penthouse apartment, decorated with lots of black leather and iron and wood and steel. It had to be the biggest, most intimidating home I’d ever seen.
He sat in a comfortable looking padded leather chair across from me, seated before a monstrously large dining room table, and for the first time I really got a good look at him. I’d been right about the angular features, the cold eyes, the dark hair flecked with a few grays. What I hadn’t really gotten a firm visual on was his size. He had to be six foot three or four and well over two hundred pounds of solid muscle. He wore an expensive looking suit with no tie, and it hugged against his chest and shoulders and thighs in ways that did crazy things to my need to be fucked.
I licked my lips.
He stared at me so long I felt like he was boring holes through me. “This is where you will eat. You will always be strapped into this chair when you receive a meal.” Then, without saying another word, he stood up and left.
I hadn’t decided if I should speak or not. He didn’t seem to want me to answer him. I figured it would be better if I kept quiet unless he specifically asked me something.
But I still didn’t know his name. That just felt…odd.
A minute later, he returned with plates, silverware, and a wine glass. He set it all on the table before him, right next to what I recognized to be the cock gag that had been in my mouth, then picked up the bag that smelled like steak and garlic. From it, he pulled out two to-go containers and started moving the food to the plates—steak, garlic mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli and cauliflower. It smelled like heaven. He left again, then came back with a bottle of expensive looking red wine and a bottle of water. He poured the wine into the glass, then opened the water and placed a straw into it.
He set that on a small table I hadn’t noticed before, separate from the main table, right in front of me. With a flick of a couple of switches on his side, the table raised so the straw was at lip-height for me. “Drink.”
I was nearly as thirsty as I was hungry, so I drank. Within seconds, I’d halfway emptied it. He pulled it away and set it where I couldn’t reach it anymore.
Then he took a knife and fork and cut everything on one plate into bite sized pieces before placing it in front of me on my special table. “Eat.”
I wanted to eat desperately, but I didn’t know how
I was supposed to do that with my arms behind me like that. I guess I took too long to figure it out. He put one hand on the back of my head and pushed down forcefully until my mouth was directly over my plate.
So I wasn’t just going to be led around on a leash like a dog, but I was supposed to eat like one as well, in a sense.
At that point, I was beyond caring about my dignity though, at least for the time being. I was starving. So I tried to carefully take a bite without getting the food all over my face. That didn’t prove to be a very likely result. Either I could keep my face clean and go hungry, or I could have my food smeared everywhere.
I ate.
He ate as well, slowly, like a civilized person, every now and again taking a sip from his wine before setting the wine glass back on the main table. Every few bites, he lifted a cloth napkin to his mouth and cleaned away anything that might have been left behind. When he finished with his meal, he took a fistful of my hair and drew my head back before pulling the plate away from me. He picked up another of those fancy cloth napkins and roughly drew it over my face, removing most of the mess I’d made, though I could still feel some remnants in random places. He returned the water bottle so I could finish drinking it.
When he took all of the dishes away, he left me strapped to my chair. He was gone a long time…definitely longer than it should take to wash the dishes and dispose of any trash. While I waited with nothing else to do, I took a better look around me.
A wall of windows stretched across one side of the apartment, easily at least sixty feet long. The view was hard to discern at night, but there were a lot of lights out there. He definitely lived in a city, though what city it might be I had no clue. I didn’t recognize the skyline, so I likely hadn’t been there before.
