A Divine Life (The Divine Trilogy)

by Hargrave, R. E.

  Birdsong carried down from the tree tops as if there was no debauchery happening right below them.

  “Oh, God! Shit . . . fuck!” Catherine’s profane cries bounced amongst the trees while she came all over her hand and the dildo to the telltale click of her one-eyed witness.

  “Perfect, Erin, that was just fucking perfect,” praised Shawn.

  All Catherine could do was to shudder and shake while she tried to get her breathing under control. With a wet sound, the dildo slipped from her body, and she dropped it next to her on the hammock. Being careful not to rock the precarious netting, she unhooked her heels, and then lowered her feet back to the ground.

  She was trembling.

  “Give me your hand, doll. We’re going to move over by the tree now.”

  Upright again, her skirt fell back down, and she concentrated on walking without tripping in the heels. Not seeing where she was going was getting old.

  “Okay, stop. Now lift your hands. You’ll feel a branch above you; I want you to grab it with both hands.

  Catherine located the branch with ease and grabbed it. It was low enough that her elbows were still bent.

  “You just stay euphoric and relaxed, doll. Don’t waste that beautiful orgasm you had. I’m going to tie your hands to the branch, okay?”

  Nodding her acknowledgement, the submissive didn’t fight the endorphins coursing through her system, instead choosing to revel in them.

  She appreciated that Shawn was talking her through his actions. Silk rope wrapped around first one wrist, and then the other, while he secured Catherine to the branch. He stepped away.

  “Struggle a little; let me check how secure they are.”

  Doing as she’d been told, the now-familiar sound of the camera clicking away met her ears while she tugged and pulled against the rope.

  “Lovely. Stick your ass out for your Master now, doll.”

  There were more snaps and clicks while Catherine did as requested. Catherine noticed her senses had sharpened: she could smell Shawn’s body wash when he came near, and she could hear him dragging something heavy across the ground.

  “Erin, I’m going to lift you up onto a narrow table I’ve just brought over. It’ll be easier if you just stay limp, and let me lift and position you, okay?”

  The submissive was still floating from her self-induced orgasm and gave him a single nod. The movement stirred the air just enough that Catherine caught a brief hint of that other scent that had been working its way into her mind all afternoon. All too soon, it was gone. Shawn’s warm arms surrounded her, lifting her up. She let him move her around until she was kneeling on the table.

  “I’m going to slip your heels off now, Erin.”

  It was sweet mercy when her feet were freed from the tight leather. She wiggled her toes and giggled when the breeze blew over them.

  “Now I’m going to hike up your skirt a little, and I need you to lean back nice and easy. This is a custom-designed fuck table; you’ll find that dildo you worked yourself with is now mounted just behind you.”

  Her breath caught with surprise, and a new surge of need crept along her nerves, exciting every part of her body.

  Catherine’s skirt slid up the back of her thighs, and Shawn’s large hands grasped her ass cheeks. He pried them apart, and she let out an involuntary flinch, given she hadn’t been expecting him to touch her that way.

  “Shh, it’s all right, Erin. I’m just helping you get in place. Your Master wants photos of you bound and mounted. There we go, relax . . . don’t worry, it’s lubed so it’ll go in easy.” His voice was soft and gentle while he helped Catherine slide down onto the dildo.

  A deep longing for her Master swept through her at the feeling of being filled so full with a replica of his cock. Catherine ground against the intrusion. With her arms anchored above her head, her breasts were lifted and squished together. Desire and want flooded through her, picturing how she must look displayed like this for her Master’s pleasure. If only he were there to see her for real, not just through the photographs that Shawn was taking. The camera was clicking away again.

  “Do you have any idea how exquisite you look, Erin?”

  She shook her head.

  “You are beyond stunning, doll! Your Master is going to love these shots.”

  His words encouraged her to sink further down and rock on the phallus in her ass. She didn’t flinch when Shawn grasped her ankle.

  “One more adjustment, and then I can finish up. You’re doing great, Erin,” encouraged Shawn while he pulled her ankle to the edge of the table. He attached some kind of cuff, and then repeated the process with the other ankle.

  Catherine was locked into position: hands tied above her head, legs spread wide with knees bent, the mock cock buried deep in her ass. Her sex was stretched slightly open, and she could feel the edge of the table pressing just under the bottom of her ass, bound as she was to the edge of the table. The dildo was the one thing keeping her from slipping off. Catherine felt like a slut; she felt like a seductress, and she felt beautiful in her submission for her Master—even if he wasn’t there.

  The camera came to life, surrounding her with its audible preservation of every emotion on her face, leaving no part of her hidden but her eyes.

  Shawn returned to her side and flipped her skirt up so that, once again, Catherine was on full display. A cool breeze traipsed over her left nipple when he tugged the blouse down, catching it under her breast.

  A single camera click chirped before a sharp, repetitive beeping broke into the serenity of the afternoon.

  “Well, shit!” huffed Shawn. “Sorry, doll, my battery just died on the camera. I need to run back inside and grab my spare.”

  “Um, Shawn, please don’t leave me out here alone. You’ve got enough pictures, right?” Catherine could feel her nerves rolling in her stomach, souring it. Her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t want any more surprises; she just wanted to get the damn blindfold off!

  “It won’t take but a minute. I’ll be right back, okay?” He patted her leg, and she whimpered. “Don’t go anywhere!” Shawn instructed, laughing at her expense; because really, where the fuck was she going to go?

  “Shawn.” A door closed, and Catherine had to assume it was the door back into the building. “Shawn!”

  Oh, you have got to be kidding me! He did not just leave me out here like this. I know he made sure everything was secure, but so help me; if I slip off this table, I’m going to kick his ass!

  “Shawn?” She tried one more time. Nope, the fucker was gone. “Well, fuck me!” she growled to the trees.

  A twig snapped behind Catherine.

  “I think I just might do that,” came a low whisper.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Catherine froze at the words. Oh. Shit. Why did Shawn have to leave? She tried to sniff the air, hoping to detect that erotic scent that would put her at ease, but the breeze had died down and the air was still. Beginning to panic, she resorted to taking shallow breaths to calm herself.

  A gloved hand came to rest on her foot and squeezed before sliding up her leg. Her heart raced so that she could feel her pulse in her head and in her traitorous sex, which continued to bubble out wetness. It seemed Catherine had a new limit to discuss exploring with her Master; one she’d never have thought would’ve appealed to her: edge play. She was enjoying being frightened.

  “Well, well. What do we have here?” The whisper was eerie and almost too quiet, too controlled.

  His hand had traveled to her thigh and was curving inward. Catherine began struggling in vain. With the way her legs were spread and bound, she couldn’t close them, nor could she lift herself off of the mount.

  “Wh–what do you want?” Catherine whimpered.

  “Oh, I think you know the answer to that,” he whispered when he slid a leather-covered finger into her pussy.

  Though aroused, Catherine wouldn’t let this stranger have his way so easy; she clamped down on his finger with
her inner walls and tried to push it out.

  “Mm, aren’t you tight, you little whore,” he growled.

  “I am not a whore!” The defense was out of her mouth before she could stop it, yet it didn’t feel wrong in the least.

  “Oh, but look at you . . .” the man’s words trailed off, and her blouse was yanked downward, freeing the other breast. Giving both breasts a hard slap, he chided and belittled her, “With your tits hanging out.” He pinched her nipples and tugged the rings. “You’re all tied up and spread out like a feast with that cock up your ass and your hungry cunt gripping at my hand.” To punctuate his words, he pulled out of her, and then pushed that same finger into her mouth. “Taste how wet you are, slut!”

  Catherine’s ire was up along with her fear, and she bit down—hard.

  The unseen intruder jerked his hand back, his finger grazing the backside of her teeth on its way out. “Motherfuck!” he hissed and proceeded to grumble something under his breath, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  “Please,” Catherine started crying, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, “my friend is going to be back any minute. Please just leave me alone. I haven’t seen you, and I promise I won’t tell anyone.” Her words were delivered with begging desperation. She wasn’t so sure he was part of the pre-arranged day; by now, the others had addressed her with her name and had given her some sign that they were a friend and could be trusted. This man, this itinerant person, had done none of that.

  With a creepy, low laugh, he spoke again and concerned her even more. “Don’t worry about your friend. I’ve barred the door so he can’t get back out here.”

  The submissive woman’s heart sank at the sound of a zipper being undone. She was screwed. Oh, fuck, please no! Catherine’s thoughts were jumbled, and sweat beaded between her breasts and behind her bent knees. She sucked in a deep breath, preparing to scream.

  “Hel—” she was cut off by his leather-covered hand, reeking with her scent, being pressed to her lips. Catherine noted with some satisfaction that he didn’t try putting his fingers back in her mouth.

  “I think that’s enough talk. I’m going to fuck that sloppy cunt of yours now,” he said with a muffled snarl.

  With renewed vigor, Catherine started struggling, but to her horror she found that her thrashing around was arousing her more. She couldn’t escape or ignore the fullness in her backside, and the twisting movements were bouncing her breasts so that she became hyper-aware of her pierced nipples.

  You want this, Erin. You know you’re secretly enjoying it. You’ve always fantasized about being raped. You’re just getting your wish.

  Oh, Shut Up! Now is NOT the time, she argued with herself.

  The tip of his cock was pushing against her outer lips, and his hand was still pressed over her mouth.

  Now is the perfect time. Think, Erin. You’re safe.

  Catherine gasped when his thickness slid past her outer lips and dipped deeper into her. It was gentle, not rough like she’d expected, and this confused her.

  He didn’t go in very deep before he was drawing himself out of her almost all the way, and then inching back in. The stranger groaned. “Hot damn, slut, your cunt is so tight with that dick in your ass. I could fuck you all day,” he sneered.

  Ashamed of herself, but unable to deny that it felt amazing, Catherine ceased her struggles. She didn’t think he was putting his full length in her, and she had to be honest with herself: at this moment, she wanted him to.

  This is your fantasy, Erin. Enjoy it.

  Her ankle was released from its cuff, and then her leg was guided around his waist, resulting in him going even deeper. A shameless groan escaped, and she felt her resolve yielding.

  He had the audacity to whimper in response. “Oh, shit—you’re so wet. I know you like this. You want this, you little slut, don’t you?” The crude words were panted out in a whisper.

  In answer, Catherine rocked her hips forward as much as she could, encouraging him to give her more. Oh, God, I am a whore, she thought, but in that moment she didn’t care.

  Don’t you remember sitting at that table with Jayden the day you told him how the idea of being taken with force excited you? How, together, the two of you reviewed your limits, shared intense stares and awkward smiles, with whispered promises of things to come—someday.

  More slippery fluid worked its way free of her when he undid her other ankle and brought it around his waist to meet the first. In her opinion, he still wasn’t deep enough; Catherine wanted him buried as deep inside her pussy as the dildo was in her ass.

  “Please. More,” she mumbled behind his hand.

  By leaning in, he allowed more of his cock to sink in. Dragging his tongue up her neck to her ear, he whispered, “I’m going to remove my hand. Don’t you dare fucking scream.” He sucked Catherine’s earlobe into his mouth and gave it a tender bite before exercising caution in removing his hand from her mouth.

  The whore in her moaned and writhed against the invasions.

  A small click sounded, and then the woman’s arms were dropping. Her wrists were still bound, but Catherine was no longer tied to the branch. Because of his proximity, her arms dropped over his head around his neck; the soft hair on the back of his head tickled her fingertips.

  Leather-clad hands cupped her ass, and she was lifted off the mock cock. To her dismay, the movement resulted in the stranger’s cock also slipping out of her, and her answering whimper was pathetic. Cool air feathered over her skin while he carried her limp body somewhere else. The whole time, her overripe sex was pressing against the naked flesh of his lower abs, and she squirmed at the feeling of the muscles rippling against her with each of his steps.

  Somehow, he managed to lift her skirt out of the way when he laid her back down in the hammock. Catherine could feel the rough fibers of the rope biting into the flesh of her ass, so she lifted her bottom, trying to reconnect with him. He slipped her arms from around his neck, and with a sharp tug, he pulled her legs, shifting her so that she lay across the hammock rather than lengthwise. Her head dropped back over one side while her legs hung off the opposite edge of the hammock.

  “Please . . .” The pleading was quiet and unresolved.

  A brush of his finger across her lips was followed by a single command: “Open.”

  Wind swirled around them all of a sudden, and her senses were assaulted. She was surrounded by that scent, and underneath was the musk of raw male. Catherine was swimming in it, being pulled into oblivion while she drowned in total submission.

  “Aye, Sir,” she acquiesced, and she was swept away on a wave of pure desire while her mouth fell open. His thick cock slid past her lips; she lapped at the tangy sweetness of her own juices on his smooth skin, and the stranger – or was he? – pulled back out with a hiss. Catherine stretched her neck, reaching with her tongue, wanting to be pacified by that perfect erection. With a grunt, he rocked against her tongue, teasing her. When he slid forward again, she wasted no time closing her lips around him and sucking.

  “Ungh. Yes, my slut. So fucking good,” he croaked out in a throaty growl.

  For hours, it seemed, he taunted Catherine. Never letting more than a few inches work its way into her mouth; never reaching the back of her throat. She wanted to reach up, grab his hips and ass, and pull him deeper, but she couldn’t because of her still-bound wrists. Her hips were thrusting at nothing but air to the rhythm of his cock sliding along her tongue. The submissive licked, nibbled, and sucked, sighing in delight whenever she found drops of come leaking from him.

  “Oh, hell. I want . . . I can’t—” he rambled.

  All at once, her mouth was left lapping at air, and she was lifted and being carried bridal-style. She sighed at the softness of the grass when he set her down in it. The skirt was pulled down over her hips and legs, and then was gone altogether. His leather-encased hands ran up her legs, slapping her pussy when she bucked up at him.

  The tightness around her waist eased
and was soon also gone when the corset fell open. No resistance came when her arms were pushed above her head, but pure delight coursed through her when she felt the heat of his body lay down next to her.

  Once again, he pulled a surprised gasp from the licentious female by use of his lips, which enclosed her left nipple and sucked it in until she squeaked in pain. He pulled back and attacked it with rough licks, using his whole tongue, flattening it out, and then dragging it across her aching peak. Catherine arched her back to encourage him to take it deeper even though Paige’s aftercare warnings echoed in the back of her head.

  The man’s hand traveled down her body, over her ribs, and became a light touch when he skimmed over the tattoo, the pressure increasing again when his fingers found and slid between her folds. In short, Catherine felt he was refusing to give her the penetration she so desperately wanted—and now needed.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he snarled, and his teeth closed on her nipple.

  Catherine was in heaven; no, she was in hell. Her need had turned into a fire burning throughout her body, leaving all of her nerves alive and tingling with anticipation. She wanted so badly to come, but at the same time, Catherine never wanted this to end; she was helpless, lost to the whims of the adroit digits manipulating her flesh.

  There was a soft pop when he released the nipple, and then she felt him crawling down her body; following the lead his hand had taken. The path was burned into her skin with gentle bites chased by quick licks to take away the sting and sealed with tender, open-mouthed kisses. Catherine writhed against the hand stroking her swollen nether lips. It was a beautiful, exquisite torture.

  Each controlled movement, executed with care and grace, did not go unnoticed by Catherine. Through the haze of her arousal-induced delirium, one predominant truth was becoming clear.