by Casey Moss
Big T was with her now, her mind recited. Big T, who from what her sister said, wanted her. Sexy Big T with his rockin’ long hair and soulful brown eyes.
Her hardened nipples brushed against the silky material of her top, sending ripples of giddiness down her torso. This time the pure, biological response of moisture seeping out in her crotch was welcomed.
God, she wanted Big T, not this man before her. She stopped and sat back on her heels.
“Did I tell you to stop?”
Faith glanced up. “No.”
“Then continue.” Hawk-man grasped the back of her head again and drew her toward him.
Still bewitched, she snaked her tongue along the underside of his cock from his balls to the end. After rimming the ridge with the tip of her tongue, she stroked down the length back to his balls and took one in her mouth. Gently, she kissed and licked and sucked on one side of the sack, then the other. His fingers tightly wrapped in her hair. A low, rolling moan sounded above her. She kissed her way back up to the moist tip, again letting her fingers loosely capture and glide along his length.
He untangled his fingers, then smoothed down her errant locks.
Faith moaned around the dick in her mouth.
He pulled out and away from her. “Have you taken a lover elsewhere? Have you been with someone else here?” A deep voice rumbled above her.
Wanting to keep the illusion in her mind’s eye that she was with Big T at home, she didn’t look up. “No,” she answered honestly. “I have been with no one but you.” At least, not yet.
“Good. Now continue.”
With that command, she relaxed her jaw and throat muscles and allowed herself to take him fully within.
His cock filled her mouth and hit a part of her throat only her doctor with his long cotton swab had ever touched. She breathed through her nose in nice steady breaths as she worked the penis in her mouth and grabbed his hips for balance.
Above her another moan sounded, louder this time, and he took over the rhythm of her fellatio, picking up the cadence of the to and fro movement. Keeping her mouth and tongue motionless as he bucked, she continued to breathe steadily through her nose to quell the gag reflex. Both of his hands seized the sides of her head. He gave one last thrust, yanked out of her mouth, and released a warm, sticky liquid onto her skin.
****
Faith stirred, blinked and threw a forearm over her eyes to protect them from the glaring morning light. After a few moments, ever so slowly, she removed her arm and opened her eyes. She rolled onto her side, looked at the empty bed, Hope’s bed, across the room, and prayed her sister was all right.
Turning onto her stomach and bunching the comforter against her side, her mind recalled the strange dreams she’d been having, last night’s being the weirdest. She still couldn’t believe what Hawk-man had made her do. Thank God she had Big T to think of during that spectacle.
But what about Tavis? I’m supposed to be in love with him. Yet if he isn’t here in the game and I’m to be stuck here for who knows how long, shouldn’t I be allowed to find someone new?
She bounded out of bed, smoothing down the escaped hairs of her braid and, straightening her t-shirt and shorts, ran downstairs to find Big T. As she rounded the bottom of the stairs, his voice called to her from the kitchen. She skidded to a stop with a huge smile on her face, then headed to him.
In the kitchen, he sat at the table reading a section of the newspaper that lay folded in front of him and, when she entered, he flashed her an enchanting grin.
“I see you gave up the rocker dude persona when you did your makeup today,” she said playfully.
“You funny girl,” he replied in a short, clipped way. “The rocker dude look was a bit much for me. I strived for more of a Cary Grant-ish look this morning. What do you think?”
“I think you did a good job with the darker foundation.” She pulled a glass from a cabinet, retrieved the container of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured, all the while stealing glances at him.
Leaning against the fridge, she drank her juice and observed him flipping the paper over and his manly but graceful fingers tracing the words as he read.
He glanced at her and smiled again. “I’m going to the theater for a couple of hours. I really wish you’d reconsider coming back and being in the next production. We could use your talent.”
“I’d love to, but I still have a lot to learn. I’m going for my theater degree and, when I’m done, I’ll be even better.” College. What will become of my courses? Am I being considered absent in the real world while I’m stuck here? A heaviness settled on her chest.
“You really don’t know how great you are right now, do you? You need to give yourself more credit.” He rose, went to the sink and washed out his coffee cup.
Big T reminded her so much of Tavis. If I’m going to be trapped in this world, I may as well make the most of it. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You’re so good for my self-confidence and outlook on life. I’m happy you’re here.”
“Ah.” He patted her hand, which lay upon his stomach. “You like me here because I’m good for your ego?”
“I like having you here because you’re a nice person and…I like you. I’ve come to see you in a different light. If you’re interested in taking our friendship to a new level…I’m all for it.”
He slipped around in her arms, lightly held her biceps and gazed down at her, his brow furrowed. “Are you serious?”
Faith nodded. The decision to say she wanted something more had been spontaneous, but with his confused look, she doubted she’d made a wise choice.
“Then, yeah, I’m up for it as well. I’ve been attracted to you, too.”
Relieved he felt the same, a heated wave of arousal surged through her. She searched his warm, brown eyes, wanting to learn more about the man behind them. As if reading her thoughts, his face came within an inch of hers, allowing a deeper look into the windows of his soul. A curiously interesting, underlying green tinge accented them. Lost in his gaze, a deep, primeval urge claimed her, a thirst to acquaint herself with him thoroughly. She yearned for his large strong hands on her, to touch her in places lovers touched.
Clouds, which had been blocking the miniscule amount of sun the alternate world received, floated onward and a beam of soft light filtered through the window and illuminated them. Faith shifted her body and with a slow, seductive gaze, she trailed downwards from his gaze and took in his full, burnt umber-painted lips.
Before she could take her next breath, his mouth descended on hers. His hands slid around to her back, clasped her shoulder blades and brought her chest to his. A brief moment of shock stiffened her body, then, as if she had always been intimate with him, she relaxed. His mouth sensuously moved upon hers and, when it parted, she followed suit.
His tongue searched her mouth. Primitive hunger swelled and took over. Faith matched his movements with a natural flare, which belied her innocence. She ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying its softness. Happiness, desire and the tug at her consciousness that what was happening wasn’t proper created turbulence in her belly.
She groped his ass, met his tongue with hers thrust for thrust. Faith couldn’t get enough of him and her searing need overrode everything else, making her throw her all into the kiss as if to devour him. Aware of his hardness brushing against her, she released one of his butt cheeks and brought her hand around. The taut fabric of his pants molded against his bulging cock. She cupped the protrusion. His sex pulsated against her palm, and she kneaded the mound.
He ended the kiss, but made no move to stay her active hand and rested his forehead against hers. His breath was hot and moist against her face.
A throat cleared from the doorway. Faith abruptly pulled away from Big T. Startled, she turned toward her cousin.
Cassandra leaned against the doorjamb, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s what your mom and dad had in mind when they said he could st
ay here.” She pushed off her post and headed back down the hall.
Faith’s cheeks burned. She shouldn’t have let herself get caught up in the moment.
Big T leaned down, his warm, moist breath feathering her ear. “You’re pretty when you blush.” He kissed her earlobe, then released her. “I’ll see you later.”
Alone and mentally at ease, she looked out the kitchen window above the sink. The desert behind the house stretched for quite a ways. There were gently rolling crests and depressions between them and the mountains. The scenery reminded her of the real world, of the remote location she grew up in on the edge of the valley. She used to love running up and down the land waves and hiding in the deeper gullies to take naps or watch the clouds drift by.
A serene sigh escaped her as the pleasant childhood memory was replaced with what she sensed as an older, more intense recollection. The desert vista morphed in to a calm sapphire sea. Small, easy-going waves lapped up onto a beautiful ivory coast. She couldn’t recall a time she and her family had gone to such a beach, but when she closed her eyes, she could feel the moist, ocean breeze and smell the crisp sea air as if she had been there, as if she were still there. An intense urge to go swimming crept over her, an impulse to go hang out under the water and play with the fish and meander amongst the plant life. The searing need to meditate in the calm under the waves embraced her so strongly a pang strummed her heartstrings. If she didn’t know better, she would have said she was homesick, a feeling she hadn’t experienced since she went to camp as a pre-teen.
She opened her eyes. The sea was gone. A current of air stirred the blades of palm trees in the back of the yard.
“I really need to get some sleep,” she said to no one but God.
PART FOUR
Hope’s Run
Chapter Nine
Something’s not right. Hope continued to scrub the kitchen sink, hoping the mundane task would help to clear her mind so she could think about her situation. She looked at the glass on the counter. Since she had started drinking water that morning in place of the cider Buzz left for her, it was as if she were waking from a deep sleep. But she hadn’t been sleeping. She was quite aware of what went on the past week during her honeymoon with him.
She picked up her water glass with a shaky hand and looked out into the screened in porch area. Two chains with leather wrist cuffs on the ends hung from the ceiling. Two leather ankle shackles were affixed to the ground. The first night in the house, after he had finished his portion of the meal and had her remove the rest of her clothes, he’d directed her to the back porch and introduced her to his form of punishment. In her heady, inebriated state she had complied and followed him like a puppy dog happy for attention.
The first few hours of the first night in her new home she’d spent chained like an animal, in an exposed-to-the-world X shape, out there. If a wanderer had walked through the wasteland and had good eyesight, they’d have seen her breasts and crotch in all their glory. That thought had been hard to handle, and she had dizzily fought against the restraints.
Buzz’s low voice had whirred into her misty mind telling her it was not his intent to abuse her. “I respect you, love, but if you go against my wishes and what I know is best for you, you will be out here suffering deeper chastisements. In the meantime, when we’re inside and I’m teaching you to submit to my will, I want you to discover yourself, to experience heightened aspects of sensuality, to want me with all your heart, your body, your soul. You will become my willing and submissive consort, the path to my redemption.”
As he spoke, his hands had lightly traced over her whole form. The feather light sensations irritated yet tantalized her nerve endings, intensifying her lightheadedness. He had made those vibrations worse when he opened the windows and let the cool night breeze blow across her body. The air’s caress had aroused her and she had found herself wanting Alden’s hands and mouth to be all over her, not the nippy draft.
After he had taken her down, he had made her please him with her mouth. And once again, he hadn’t gratified her. In fact he didn’t bring her any type of satisfaction that evening or the following nights.
The ass.
Hope dumped out the water. From the fridge, she pulled out the cider and poured herself a healthy dose, telling herself she needed a boost. She shot down the contents and squirmed at the heavy sweetness and underlying sour taste. Flavor aside, a sense of well-being returned.
In her still pure and virginal state, she went for a stroll around the house, noting to herself how she had cleaned every nook and cranny in her sexual dissatisfaction and wondered where the items were Buzz said he’d bring her. At the door to his office, she hesitated. He had told her she was never to go in his room, but she wanted to check it out.
She jiggled the doorknob, frustrated but relieved it was locked. Last thing she needed was for him to realize she had broken one of his laws. She’d be out on the porch with all the items he had introduced her to over the week. The blindfold would go on. A tail would be shoved up her bum. Clothes pins would be fastened to her nipples faster than she could blink. Knowing him, that wouldn’t be all. He’d figure out some new way to torture her.
A few hours later, he arrived bearing the gifts she’d wondered about. She sat on the living room floor, riffling through the huge bag he’d handed to her. From it she pulled a couple of books on relationships. Hope frowned at the covers. Blurbs explained the books’ contents—how to please a man the way he wants to be pleased; how to ignite his passion. There were a few DVD’s with scantily clad couples on the covers. When she quirked an eyebrow, he told her he picked up a small computer which was still out in the car. She went back to perusing the items in the bag and found some romance novels, a skein of yarn, a package of crochet hooks and a book on how to make afghans.
“I thought you might be interested in a hobby.” Buzz pointed at the yarn, which she put on the floor next to her. “The other items are to help you become the proper, submissive wife.”
“Speaking of being the proper wife. When are you going to give me some satisfaction as a husband should? Or do you have a problem in that department and can only get off on torturing helpless victims? Ones you have to capture and make submit to you?” The words tumbled out of her mouth without thought.
Buzz narrowed his eyes. His nostrils flared. “It’s not time yet for me to take your innocence,” his strained voice grit out. “And, for your lack in restraint in speaking to me, you will spend all night on the porch.”
“Yes, my love.” The dismal words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Doing as he’d instructed, she crawled behind him out to the back of the house.
He cranked open the windows. She undressed from the white shirt and gray skirt uniform, stepped forward and presented her hands in the air to be secured. Once she was in place, he took the dildo with the long horsehair attached to it and whipped her with the strands. Her ass cheeks burned and clenched each time they were marked with the lashes.
“Ah, what a lovely shade of deep pink my dear, like a nice piece of medium rare steak.” He slapped the area with his hand, then prepped the dildo and her anus with lube. Buzz shoved the toy up her ass.
The hairs danced in the breeze coming through the open windows and tickled her thighs.
Pins were placed on her nipples. She did her best to not react to the shooting pains zinging through her breasts. A blindfold covered her eyes.
Metal clanking and scraping sounded nearby. He didn’t leave the area as he normally would? Not liking the change in routine, the fact he stood somewhere close to her sent her nerves and heart racing. Seconds later, a cold structure pressed against her abdomen. She recognized the cool metal to be the step ladder which usually sat in the corner. The apparatus pushed against her. When she heard the whiz of his zipper, she opened her mouth and granted him access. There was no use trying to fight him considering the position she was in.
He fucked her mouth.
It took all her concentration to cont
inue breathing through her nose and not gag on his dick. Luckily, she didn’t have to endure his onslaught for too long. Before she knew it, he pulled out and came on her abdomen. The clack of the ladder and click of the door let her know he’d left her to hang. Alone.
Frustrated, she shimmied in her restraints. She needed relief yet couldn’t bring her legs together or reach down with her hands to get herself off. Hope believed that was the worst part of his punishments—never being allowed any sexual contentment.
She hung her head and let tears roll down her cheeks.
****
From what Hope could gather in her haze-belabored mind, a handful of days had passed, and Buzz had yet to make her a true wife in the biblical sense. Not that not being made love to by him troubled her. She continued to count it as a blessing he hadn’t abused her in that regard. She’d only spoken up a few times more after the one cold night she’d spent on the porch. Those lapses had occurred after he had been out for hours upon hours at a time. For those indiscretions, sometimes he put her on the porch. Sometimes he locked her in the attic.
Strange enough, she liked the attic punishment. She didn’t enjoy being locked away in a hot and dusty room, but at least she was able to relax without his gaze assessing her every move. Plus, she was able to pleasure herself without getting caught.
Up in the large garret, she also absorbed the novels Buzz continued to bring home. Though he called them trashy, she found the works of romance enlightening and of great reference. The women were strong and independent. The men respected them for it. The couples, though they had their differences, worked together, loved and held each other in high esteem. The characters’ lives were nothing like how the two of them related to each other, and nowhere near how he treated her.
