Vacation

by S. J. Lewis

  She unbelted the trench coat, unbuttoned it, and took it off. Under it, she was nude, and already so aroused that the damned coat had chafed her nipples. She fished the little bag out of the coat pocket, put it on the sink. The first thing she pulled out of it was a long plastic zip-tie. She threaded one end through the loop and drew it through slowly until there was just enough room for her to slide both of her wrists into it. Holding her hands up, she seized the free end in her teeth and pulled it snug. Then a little more snug. She wanted it to be tight enough to be uncomfortable.

  There. Done. She reached into the bag again and took out a pair of white cotton panties she’d bought just that afternoon. Wadding them up, she stuffed them into her mouth, packing it full.

  Finally, she pulled out a roll of duct tape. As she did, there was a loud crack of thunder very close by, and the lights flickered. She tore a strip off of the roll and awkwardly covered her mouth with it, smoothing it down. She looked at herself in the mirror again. If the tape had allowed her to smile, she would have. Duct tape had limitations as a gag all by itself. She wanted to be able to scream her head off without anybody in the next unit over hearing a thing. Although…she thought as there was another crash of thunder, very near, and more flickering of the lights…that might not be much of a problem anyway.

  One last touch. She sat down on the toilet seat, leaning forward, holding her arms down almost to the cold tile floor. She stepped through the bound loop of her arms first with one leg, then the other, happy that she had kept herself limber enough to do this.

  She stood up slowly. On the inside of the bathroom door was an old full-length mirror, a bit hazy with age. She studied her image in it. This would be what he saw when she came out to him.

  Another blast of thunder, and the lights flickered again, went out, came back on. She went over to the door. Reaching around with her bound hands, she turned the knob and pulled the door slowly open.

  He sat up when Red came out of the bathroom. He had been half-expecting her to come out in some sort of frilly nightgown, if she’d come out wearing anything at all. He hadn’t been expecting this. She stopped just outside of the bathroom door, her back pressed against the wall, her eyes wide and watchful above the tape covering her mouth. She had the same wound-up intensity as she’d had that night in her apartment.

  There was another flash of lightning, and the light went out. He let his eyes adjust for a moment. She was just barely visible in the dark, still not moving.

  He got up out of the bed. As he went towards her, she moved away, keeping her back against the wall. He was aware that he was breathing faster now, feeling a powerful surge of anticipation. He kept moving towards her, more slowly now. She kept stepping away, until she was in a corner, and he moved to cut her off. When the lightning flashed again, he got a good look at her face. Her nostrils were flared, her head tipped back, away from him. He had the distinct impression she was acting something out. He didn’t know what it was, but the way she kept her hands behind her gave him a hint. Acting on impulse, his hand snaked out to grab her by her hair and pull her out of the corner. She let out a muffled yelp, but resisted him only a little. He tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back so that her body was arched, pressed up against his. With his other hand, he reached around behind her, feeling around.

  There was something hard and plastic binding her wrists together. As he bent his head to try to take a look, another lightning flash, punctuated by a deep, rolling BOOOMM! of thunder let him see what it was. He’d seen police use that sort of thing as handcuffs before, but whatever she had used was narrower and thinner, and pulled very, very tight. Her hands already felt a little cold to his touch. That would be a bitch to get off of her later, but he always carried a pocketknife, and he always kept it very sharp. She was squirming against him, making noises, apparently trying to pull away. His free hand moved to her face, feeling the tape over her mouth. She seemed to have stuffed something into her mouth. Tape alone wouldn’t have muffled her voice that much.

  Another flash of lightning, another boom of thunder, one that went rolling on and on. Her eyes were fixed on his, still wide, unreadable now. His free hand slid down to grip her rump tightly. She grunted, flinched, jerked, closed her eyes. She was trying to act something out, he had no doubt. Whatever it was was probably rough and brutal. Without thinking about it, he fastened his mouth on her exposed throat, kissing and licking his way down to her breasts. She began struggling again, but weakly, moaning and groaning through the gag. He bit down lightly on a nipple, and her whole body quivered.

  He always prided himself on his ability to keep some self-control, no matter what the situation was. Right now, though, he felt it beginning to slip away from him. Some older, more primitive part of his brain seemed to be trying to take over.

  He forced her to the floor. There was a rug, clean but old and rough to the touch.

  The feel of the rug on her bare flesh was like an electric shock. Claudia felt his hand roaming over her, hard and rough and strong, squeezing her breasts, pushing her thighs further apart. His other hand had a powerful grip on her hair, enough to hurt a little, certainly enough to keep her from squirming away. Still, she was not going to make it easy for him. He would have to fight to take her. She twisted and rolled in his grip.

  When she somehow rolled herself over, face down on the rug, his free hand gave her rump a resounding wallop, part reflex, part frustration, part sheer arousal. She yelped, the sound completely drowned out by the thunder, which was coming like an artillery barrage now, constant and unending. She kept struggling. He swatted her again, hard enough to make his hand sting. And again…and again…

  The thunder faded away for a moment, and he realized she was no longer struggling. When he gently laid his hand on her rump, she flinched and whimpered. He shook his head to clear it. How many times had he slapped her pretty little ass? He had no idea. He forced his hand between her legs, using his knee to keep them apart. She was very, very wet. He pushed his other knee between her legs and began to unbuckle his belt, trying to go slowly, to get some semblance of control back. His cock wasn’t making things any easier. It felt rock-hard, and kept getting in the way as he tried to unzip.

  When the power had gone out, so had the air conditioning. The rug felt coarse and scratchy against her, especially her nipples, and Claudia wallowed in the sensations. Her hands felt numb, and the furious spanking he’d given her to make her stop struggling had been the most intense foreplay she’d ever experienced. Almost too intense. She was painfully sore there now, and perfectly willing, even eager, to be submissive and obedient to avoid any more spanking. She was breathing heavily through her nose, and could hear him fumbling with his belt, his zipper.

  “Get your ass up,” he growled to her finally. Whimpering, she obeyed, arching her back for him, hungry for him, ready…

  There was an odd stillness now, as if the storm had passed. He could hear every little noise she made, even the faint rasping noise of her body moving along the rug. It was getting very warm in here now too. He wiped sweat from his eyes and carefully lined himself up, his hands gripping her hips, before he slammed himself into her as hard as he could. He heard her grunt at the impact, and then there was another flash of lightning and the thunder began again.

  He kept his grip on her even though she was growing slippery from sweat, and kept pounding away, intent on driving into her as deeply and as powerfully as he could with each thrust, but not letting himself go, no, not quite yet. He had something special in mind for Red. In the meantime, with all her moaning and whimpering and moving her body in time with his, she seemed to have no real complaints. He was sure that if she had, gagged or not, bound or not, she’d find a way to let him know.

  Finally, he withdrew from her completely, took a long, deep breath, and gripped her by her hair again. Maybe he should say something, whisper into her ear, but he was past words now. He made her spread her legs a little more by moving his knees further apart,
and used his hand to guide himself, helped only a little by the lightning flashes. He could feel her tense up. She knew what was coming.

  She let out a long groan as she felt him begin to enter her ass, and tried to relax. The gag might enable her to scream all she wanted, but it did make it hard for her to get all of the breath that she wanted. She groaned again as he pushed in deeper…deeper… In spite of the warm dampness in the room, she felt a sudden chill. And he kept on pushing into her…deeper… Finally he stopped, and she was panting through her nose, waiting.

  She was as tight as he remembered, and he paused for a moment to enjoy the feeling and to let her catch her breath. She was going to need it. And then he began, and she screamed.

  Also by S J Lewis

  Female Prey

  The Elusive Prey

  Urban Prey

  The Dark Woods & Other Bondage Stories

  Krissy

  Tanya

  The Novice Prey

  Claudia’s Surrender

  Augustin’s Island

  For a complete catalogue of Erotic Fiction…

  Pink Flamingo Publications

  P.O. Box 632, Richland, MI 49083, 1-877-629-0051

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