Bound to Ecstasy

by Vonna Harper, P. F. Kozak

  “I will change clothes, but don’t I get a drink first?”

  “So you’re staying?”

  “I never said I wouldn’t.”

  “You know I’m going to push you tonight.”

  “I would be disappointed if you didn’t. Do I get that drink?”

  Marc poured whiskey into another tumbler and set it on the table. “If you want this, you have to work for it.”

  Patricia knew a challenge when she heard it. She wouldn’t back down. “What do I have to do?”

  “Strip to your sexy underwear. Then come over here and blow me.”

  “What if Lenny shows up?”

  “Then I suppose you’ll be blowing both of us, because you’re answering the door when he knocks. I don’t give a shit what you have on, or don’t have on, at the time.”

  “Who are you trying to prove something to, Marc, me or yourself?”

  “Perhaps both, perhaps neither. It doesn’t frigging matter does it, as long as we both get off on it?”

  “Is getting off all this is about to you?”

  “No, Patricia, it’s not. I thought you knew that.” Marc glanced at his watch. “Lenny will be here by seven o’clock. It’s up to you how the evening starts.”

  Marc wasn’t bluffing. Patricia knew that. If she wanted to stay, and she did, she had to play by his rules. She opened her blouse and took it off, then unzipped her skirt. As it fell to the floor, an unfamiliar sensibility overshadowed her spitefulness. Subjection replaced superiority, and emancipation trumped control.

  “Do I keep the shoes on?”

  “Oh, yes, Tricia, the shoes stay on.”

  Marc did not move from where he stood. Patricia picked up a pillow from the sofa and dropped it on the floor in front of him. The alchemy of self-consciousness and vulnerability acted as an aphrodisiac. She could smell her own musk as she knelt in front of him.

  Patricia opened his belt. Before she could unzip his trousers, he stopped her. “Look at me, Tricia.” She tilted her head and looked up, appearing to pray in pagan worship. “Tell me how much you want to suck my dick.”

  The abject humiliation of this moment inflamed her. She did want to blow him, and she wanted him to know it. “Marc Forrest, I want to lick your cock until you come.”

  “Will you swallow my cream, Tricia?”

  “I will suck you and swallow your cum when you finish.”

  “You are not permitted to have an orgasm now. After you blow me, you will immediately put on your uniform and get ready to greet Lenny at the door. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “What’s your color?”

  “I am so green I could play Elphaba in Wicked.”

  Marc unzipped his trousers. It surprised her to see he wore no underwear. He always wore some sort of jockeys. Keeping her surprise to herself, she carefully exposed his cock. The smell of him made her heady, the odor of sex and arousal hitting her like a popper.

  When her tongue touched his tip, he grunted. Setting his glass on the table, he braced himself by putting his hands on top of her head. She had wanted to kiss him and lick him before taking his prick into her mouth, but his weight forced her head deeper into his groin. She had no choice. She opened her mouth as his cock pressed against her lips. Marc pushed forward, nearly gagging her as his organ filled her mouth.

  Quickly pulling her head back as far as she could, she managed to grab the base of his prick. By doing that, she regained her balance and could better manage his thrusting forward. The front of his coat fanned her as she sucked, his scent filling her like incense.

  She could tell by his rhythm it would be soon, the force of his thrusts increasing with his need. Wrapping her arm around his ass, she pulled his pelvis against her, restricting his ability to move. With the sound of a wild animal being caged, Marc shot his load down her throat. As she struggled to swallow his cream, he shouted at her, “You fucking hot bitch, do me!” She took the compliment to heart.

  Remembering that Lenny would arrive at any minute, Patricia stood and threw the pillow back on the sofa. She scooped up her clothes, intending to go straight to the bathroom.

  “Patricia?”

  She turned around just as Marc zipped his trousers. “What now?”

  “Don’t forget your drink. You’ve earned it. Oh, yes, and for tonight, your name is Cosette.”

  “How totally Victor Hugo of you! Don’t tell me, you’re Jean Valjean and Lenny is Javert.”

  “It’s nice to see your mouth is hot, no matter what the situation. No, my dear Cosette, Lenny and Marc will do for tonight. Lenny is my guest, here to share the charms of my maid.” Marc handed her the glass. “Now go and get ready for us. Put on what’s in there, except for the shoes.”

  After closing the door, Patricia tossed her suit over the shower rod. Grateful for a few minutes to regroup, she looked in the mirror over the sink. “Shit!” Her lipstick had smeared on her face and she had left her makeup in her purse.

  When she turned to go back out and ask Marc for her bag, she saw the maid’s costume on the back of the door. She couldn’t believe how closely it resembled the one in her dream. The black uniform trimmed with white lace and the attached frilly white apron barely had enough material to cover her tits and ass. Wondering how she would work up the nerve to put it on and walk out the door, she muttered, “Ooh la la. My name is Cosette. Please fuck me.”

  Marc was talking on his cell when she opened the door. “Hold on, Lenny, I’ll be right with you.” He put the phone down. “Yes, is there a problem?”

  Paying no attention to his terse tone, she explained. “A minor problem. I need my makeup. Could you give me my purse?”

  Marc retrieved her purse from the closet. Before handing it to her, he opened it and took out her BlackBerry. “Contraband is not permitted in the dressing room.”

  “Fuck you!” She took the bag and slammed the door shut.

  Not believing she would stoop to spying, she paused by the door and listened, hoping to hear some of Marc’s conversation with Lenny.

  “Make sure the ropes and blindfold are buried in a shopping bag. I don’t want her to see them. By the time we get that far, she’ll be ready for it.” Patricia took the costume off the hanger and went to fix her makeup. She had heard enough.

  Patricia took her time getting herself together. Marc didn’t interrupt, which meant Lenny had not yet arrived. She had trouble fastening the white lace cuffs, but did manage it without asking for help. She noticed the cuffs had the same silver loops that the leather ones had earlier in the week. Now she knew how they were used.

  The last accessory was a white lace collar to match the cuffs. It also had silver loops. In spite of the queasiness she felt putting it on, the implication of their use excited her.

  When she finished, she took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. Her reflection shocked her. The garter belt, clearly visible under the short, pleated skirt, hid nothing. The bottom curve of her ass cheeks could be seen when she stood straight. Bending over would expose her ass and her pussy. The snug fit of the bodice pushed her breasts up into exaggerated cleavage, the black lace of the bra seeming to be part of the dress.

  She knew both Marc and this other man, Lenny, would see her in this, and it would be lewd and sleazy. She also knew they would use her in ways she couldn’t even imagine. The costume of the day would serve its purpose, and she knew that was exactly what she wanted.

  Cracking the bathroom door open, she peeked out. Marc had his back to her, digging in the closet for something. Lenny had not yet arrived. She quietly came out, and waited for Marc to turn around. When he did, he had a leather paddle in his hand. She stared at the paddle while he stared at her.

  “Well, now, don’t you look like you just stepped out of a French porn movie! Très passionnante.”

  “And don’t you look like a male dom poster boy!”

  Marc held up the paddle, and then whacked his leg with it. “Isn’t it a beauty? It’s the be
st one I could get. I found it at Purple Passion on Twentieth Street. It’s a great store. Ever been there?”

  “No, Marc. I don’t usually frequent such places.”

  “I expect that will soon change. Come here.” Patricia came closer. “Now turn around and bend over. Let’s see if it does the job.”

  Again Marc challenged her. She knew she could refuse. But remembering the sting on her ass from the strap, she knew she didn’t want to say no. She liked the intense feeling of having her ass smacked, she liked the sting and she liked feeling it at Marc’s hand.

  Without complaint or objection, she turned around and bent over. She heard Marc’s breath change, and knew the view he had must be worth the price of admission. Even in her submission, she felt a rush of power at evoking such a response from him. She knew that shortly, another man would be lusting after her in the same way. She didn’t understand it, but she wanted it.

  Before she could think it through, Marc swung the paddle. It connected solidly with her ass. The sting made her stumble forward. She caught herself on the arm of the chair. The paddle connected again, this time slightly lower. Her pussy tightened with the impact, the sensation flowing through her groin. Bracing herself for more, she spread her legs wider. But Marc stopped.

  “That’s enough for now, Tricia. My glass is on the table. Get me another drink.”

  Patricia slowly stood, disappointed that Marc had stopped. Reminding herself that she had agreed to play by his rules, she picked up his glass. He watched her walk across the room to the cupboard.

  When she gave him the refilled glass, she noticed two things. He had unbuttoned two more buttons on his shirt, exposing most of his chest, and he had an erection. Fighting the urge to make a wisecrack, Patricia attempted to be a proper servant.

  “Your drink, sir.”

  “Thank you, Cosette.”

  Hearing him call her Cosette made it difficult to keep a straight face, but she managed. “When is your guest coming, sir?”

  “He’s waiting in the lobby. I told him I would call him when you are ready. I think you’re ready.” Taking his phone out of his jacket pocket, Marc dialed. “Hello, Lenny. C’mon up. We’re in 4D.” Marc sat down in the armchair. Patricia understood he expected her to answer the door not as Patricia but as Cosette.

  Patricia jumped when Lenny knocked. It didn’t help that Marc chuckled at her nervousness. Determined to play the role she had been handed for the evening, she opened the door. “Good evening, monsieur. Please come in.”

  “Well, hello again, doll.” Lenny winked at her and then checked her out. “Ohh la la, you’re a little piece of heaven tonight!”

  “Cosette, please take Lenny’s bags.”

  “Cosette? I thought her name was Tricia.”

  “For tonight, she is Cosette. She is here to serve us, however we choose.”

  “Hey, man, I’m in. I haven’t done a scene like this in years.” Patricia reached for the bags Lenny held. “Here, Cosette, take these three. This one is for Marc.”

  Lenny gave the bag to Marc. After glancing inside, Marc smiled. “I see you also brought dessert.”

  “I didn’t have to. She’s already here.”

  Patricia put the bags on the table. She bent over to look inside. When she turned around, both men were leering at her. Realizing they had seen her ass and her pussy, she flushed. Struggling to maintain her composure, she began unpacking the food.

  Marc came over to examine their dinner, casually rubbing her bare ass as he looked. “What the hell did you bring, Lenny? There’s enough food here to feed a frigging army!”

  “You wanted French, so I did French. Since you’re paying for it, I did it right. The appetizers are French onion soup, pâté, and escargot. I didn’t know what the hell the entrée names were, so I asked for one of each. And for dessert, crème brulee and chocolate mousse, and of course, her!”

  “Well, man, we sure as shit won’t go hungry tonight.”

  “Damn straight we won’t, not with her serving.”

  Marc sat down at the table. “Lenny, please take a seat. Cosette, we’ll have dinner now.”

  Again, Tricia felt at sea in this situation. Not only did she wonder what they would eventually do with her, but now she had to actually be a maid! She had never backed down from a challenge, and she wouldn’t now. “Sir, you will have to tell me where to find the dishes and silver. I am new to this.”

  “Why, of course, Cosette. The cupboard over the sink has dishes. The silver is in the drawer next to the refrigerator. And there is wine with the other liquor.”

  While Tricia put together the place settings, Marc quietly spoke to Lenny. She strained to hear what he said, but couldn’t manage it. She did hear Lenny say, “Hell, yeah, I’ll tickle her pussy when she comes back.”

  Tricia brought enough dishes to the table to set three places. “Excuse me, Cosette, there are only two for dinner.”

  Marc really threw her with that one. Staying in character, she kept her cool. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought I would also have some food.”

  “What do you think, Lenny? Should we give her a little something?”

  “Between the two of us, Marc, she’ll get more than a little before the night is over. As for food, we have plenty. But servants never sit at the table with their masters.”

  Turning to Patricia, Marc feigned surprise. “You hear that, Cosette? Servants never sit at the main table. Lenny, would it be acceptable for her to kneel between us? We could give her a bite or two, if she is a good girl.”

  “Come here, sweetheart.” Lenny motioned for her to come closer.

  Patricia hesitated.

  “Cosette, my guest made a request. I expect you to be gracious and see to his needs.”

  Feeling both nervous and a bit frightened, Patricia went to Lenny. “Yes, sir?”

  “If you want any food, you have to be a good girl.” Lenny put his hand on her thigh and slowly slid it up her leg to her ass. “Are you a good girl?”

  “I try to be, sir.”

  “Do you let men touch your pussy?”

  “It depends, sir.”

  “Depends on what, Cosette?”

  Patricia glared at Marc. “It depends on whether my master permits it.”

  “Marc, do you permit it?”

  “Not usually, Lenny. But you are my special guest. Cosette’s charms are yours tonight.”

  Without warning, Lenny’s thick middle finger slipped between her pussy lips and found her clitoris. Tricia instinctively pulled back. Steadying herself on the table, she apologized. “I’m sorry, sir, you surprised me.”

  “That’s all right, Cosette. Let’s try this again.” Lenny again reached under her skirt and found her clitoris. “Ahhh, Cosette, you must like our company. You’re already slippery.” Lenny rubbed harder.

  Patricia tried to stay still, but Lenny’s relentless rubbing made that impossible. She squirmed against his hand, already feeling the need to orgasm. Marc’s voice cut through her increasing arousal. “That’s enough, Cosette. Serve us dinner now.”

  Reluctantly, she stepped away, breaking the connection with Lenny’s finger. Trying to focus on the food, she served the two men. She scooped food onto their plates until they were overflowing. Several unopened containers still sat on the table. Then she opened and poured the wine.

  Taking the opportunity to calm herself, Patricia retrieved the same pillow she had used earlier with Marc. Tossing it on the floor between the two men, she sat down, curling her legs around the side of the pillow, and waited.

  4

  Marc brushed the hair off of Patricia’s forehead. “You see, Lenny, what an obedient hired girl I have? Cosette is not only lovely, she is willing.”

  “Let’s see how willing, and how hungry, she is. Come here, little girl.” Lenny swiveled her around and pulled her up to a kneeling position between his legs. Spreading a thick layer of pâté on a piece of French bread, he brought it close to Patricia’s mouth. When she leaned forward to t
ake a bite, he pulled it away.

  “Not so fast, pretty lady.” He took her hand and put it on his erect cock. “You have to rub this while you eat. When you finish what I give you, you have to kiss it and say ‘thank you, sir.’”

  A wiseass remark tumbled out before Patricia could stop it. “How do you know I won’t bite it instead of kissing it? Remember, when I’m not Cosette, I’m Ms. Piranha. And I’m hungry.”

  “Well, now, Cosette, let’s see how hungry you are. All right with you, Marc?”

  “If she’s says green, it’s fine with me. Cosette?”

  Looking over her shoulder at Marc, she negotiated. “If I do what he wants, then I am allowed to sit at the table with you and have some dinner. Otherwise, I’m yellow.”

  Lenny laughed. “You’ve got yourself one sassy bitch here, Marc. I like her.” Lenny put his hand flat on her cheek and turned her head back to face him. “If you sit at the table and eat, you’ll be paying for it all night. There won’t be any more yellows, only red to stop the scene. And I leave. That’s it, sweetheart. Take it or leave it.”

  “If you aren’t afraid I’ll bite it off, then I’m not afraid of what you’ll do, either. If it’s too much for me, I’ll call red and show you to the door.”

  Lenny roughly groped her tit. “Doll, where have you been all my life?”

  “Nowhere you would have gone.” For some reason that baffled her, Patricia enjoyed sparring with Lenny. “When do I get to eat?”

  “Right now, sweetheart.” Lenny unzipped his jeans and his cock bulged out the fly. He also wore no underwear.

  Patricia wasted no time. She wanted to prove to this man that she could hold her own with him. The competitive behavior that had pushed her into a successful career surfaced, and she aggressively licked his cock. For a moment, she forgot that Marc sat behind her watching. Then she felt his hand under her skirt.

  “Lenny, I think she’s forgotten who is in charge here.” Marc pushed two fingers into her pussy. “She has to understand that she does what we tell her to do, and nothing more.”