by Ana Meadows
“Hey,” Cal said, putting a finger under her chin and tipping his face up to his. “Why the long face?”
Alice smiled distractedly. “It’s nothing,” she said.
“You seem a bit – I don’t know - upset.”
Alice sighed, pulling herself out of his arms. Even though her body longed for him, she wanted her mind to be clear. She thought about the past two nights, the way she’d lain awake after their lovemaking, her heart hammering in her chest, her head full of questions. She thought about how far such a random, impulsive act such as cutting class to lie in the sun had turned into such emotional turmoil for her. She walked over to the table and pulled the champagne from the bucket and poured herself a glass. She drank it down in a gulp and set the crystal flute down on the table a little harder than she meant to.
“Cal,” she said. “We should talk.”
He came to her, smiling in a sexy way. He bent and kissed her neck sending shivers down her spine, making her melt inside. “There’s time for talking later,” he said. His hands traveled down her body, and Alice could not help the desire she felt inside, the wetness between her legs, but suddenly the desire made her angry - it was answers she wanted, not this, not now.
She put her hands on his chest and gently pushed away from him. “Please,” she began, and Cal smiled, thinking it a game.
“Oh, I see how it is,” he said. “A little cat and mouse, eh?”
Like a little girl, Alice stomped a Manolo Blahnik-encased foot. “Cal!”
“Yes, pet?” And he was kissing her neck again, sliding up to her ear, encircling the sensitive lobe with his tongue.
Fully angry now, Alice pushed him away roughly. “I need some answers!” she said, heatedly.
Cal raised an eyebrow. “Regarding?”
“This – this – offer you made me. The job offer! Is it- is it” Alice was flustered. She was an intruder, really, and now she was making demands?
Cal’s voice hardened. “I said we can talk about this later.” He said it like a man who was used to having things his way, which only angered Alice further. She grabbed the bottle of Dom Perignon and threw it down on the deck with all her might, the green glass shattering into a thousand pieces, the aroma of the fine beverage wafting up around them like effervescent roses.
“I want to talk now!” she demanded.
Cal’s eyes narrowed and his smile was wicked. “Come here,” he said, smoothing a hand down the front of his trousers, drawing Alice’s eye. The beginnings of his erection was plain beneath the fine fabric. “I adore a fiery woman.” He took a step toward her.
It was all Alice could do to pull her eyes from the significant bulge in his trousers, to prevent her mind from remembering the feel of it, taste of it, the way it could fill her. Her gaze flipped nervously up to his face. “Stop!” she cried, holding a crystal champagne flute aloft, but Cal continued forward.
“Come here,” he said. “Let me fuck you right here, under the setting sun.”
The glass crashed to the deck. There was the sound of a scuffling on the stairs and Watkin’s head appeared, his face worried. “Sir?” he said.
Cal didn’t even turn to look at him, his eyes bored into Alice’s. “Everything is fine!” he said coldly, and kept walking toward her.
Alice grabbed the second crystal flute and held it over her head. Cal pointed a finger at her. “Don’t dare,” he said. Alice brought the glass down with force. SMASH! And then Cal was upon her. She let out a whimper, then a small scream as he picked her up and flung her over his shoulder and began to carry her toward the stairs.
“You like to ruin my things?” he said from between clenched teeth.
“Put me down!”
He laughed coldly. “Oh, I’ll put you down, my dear,” he said. “I’ll put you down and teach you a lesson about who’s the boss on this ship!” And with that, he carried her below deck to his suite.
Alice’s face burned with anger, and, though she didn’t want to admit it, desire. Cal made his way down the short hall, Alice raging and pounding on his back with her fists. He pushed the suite door open with his foot and unceremoniously deposited her on the bed. She immediately popped back up, poised to run for the door, but he grabbed her around the waist, laughing. “Is that how you want to play it?” he hissed in her ear, wrapping a strong arm around her flailing ones, restraining her. He leaned toward the nightstand and pulled open a drawer and in a flash, Alice felt the cold steel of a handcuff encircling her wrist. Cal snapped the free end to the bedpost. She slapped playfully at his face, but he deftly caught her hand in his, snapping a second handcuff around that wrist and attaching it to the opposite bedpost, pushing her body down onto the silk sheets.
Alice was a mass of quivering emotion; angry on one hand and aroused on the other. She was a bit frightened as well - not that he would ever harm her, that didn’t enter the equation - but that she had possibly gone too far, acted foolish and over-emotional, and that she had diminished herself in his eyes. She lay on the bed, panting, staring up at him, each of them still outwardly challenging the other, even though, trussed as she was, Alice was certainly in no position to challenge. Yet, she lifted her chin. “Don’t lay a finger on me,” she breathed, wondering whether she could hide the fact of her arousal.
Cal loosened his tie and tossed it casually on a chair. “Oh, I’ll lay a finger on you,” he said. “And more.” He removed his shoes, and then he took a silver lighter out of his pocket and began to move about the room, lighting the many candles that were strategically placed throughout the suite.
“What are you doing?” Alice said, jerking half-heartedly at one of the handcuffs, causing a dull pain to shoot through her wrist. Already her fingers were getting a bit numb.
Cal continued lighting the candles, taking his time. He gave her a nonchalant glance.
“I’ll scream” she added, “- again.”
Cal laughed. “You’ve been screaming for several nights now, if I recall. Sometimes during the day, too, while we’ve had our little – what shall we call them? Tete-a- tetes? I think the staff are quite used to it.”
Alice felt as if she were watching the whole scene from afar. She was saying and doing things that were unlike her, but could not seem to stop herself. “Fuck you, Mr. Money!” she said, regretting the infantile choice of words immediately.
“You’re in no position for that,” Cal said, removing his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt. “But I am in a supreme position to fuck you. And mete out a little – hmmm - a little punishment for destroying my nice crystal. Not to mention my very expensive wine.” He ran a finger down her calf, and goose bumps rose on her skin. He removed her stiletto heels and traced circles on the soles of her feet, which inexplicably made her nipples harden and rise against the fabric of the dress she wore. Cal looked at her breasts appreciatively, licking his lips. He crawled on the bed, straddling her, and in a fell swoop bent and bit her left nipple through the fabric. Pain and desire shot through Alice’s body, a white hot wire running from breast to cunt, making her wet. She moaned, and Cal reached up and pinched the right nipple cruelly while biting on the left, his hot breath, his saliva wetting the front of the dress.
Suddenly he sat up. “Let’s dispatch this, shall we?” he said, and he grasped the dress at the neckline and ripped it down the front, exposing her naked body beneath. He pulled the dress again, ripping it from her body and threw it aside like yesterday’s trash. He looked down at her body, her chest and belly heaving beneath him. “There now,” he said. “That’s better.” And then he was upon her, his mouth upon hers, his tongue searching in the deepest of kisses.
Beneath him, Alice writhed. She could feel his hard-on through his slacks, the fabric of which rubbed against her open, wet pussy, their heat mingling. Cal pulled away a bit, looking down. “So,” he whispered, “You’re set to ruin my slacks as well?”
As Alice began to shake her head in protest, he reached down quickly unzipping and extracting his magnificent cock
, plunging it deep into her with no warning, fucking her brutally, his hips slamming into her again and again and again. Alice bucked against him in a frenzy of desire, turned on by the shock, the coldness of his rutting, like a crazed animal. Neither spoke, the room was simply full of heavy breathing, of moaning and finally a screaming cry from Alice as her pussy began to clench, clutching at his long, hot member, and even as she began to come, her juices spurting over him, he still continued to slam into her until her body went slack and she was coming, coming.
Alice rolled her head. Her eyes were mere slits and she was seeing the suite through her long eyelashes, everything appearing muted, as if in a dream. Cal was moving about the room. His skin was golden in the light of the many candles, dewy with sweat. She opened her eyes wider, seeing his great member, still swollen, hard, the head purple with desire and unfinished business. He was sorting through a drawer, removing several silk scarves. Alice licked her lips. Her mouth was dry and her body still trembling from the onslaught Cal had just made upon it. Her legs were lying open, her red flower exposed and still dripping with her honey, the clit still swollen and peeking from between her pussy lips.
Cal walked to the small table in the corner of the room where they’d sometimes taken their morning coffee. He removed the two chairs, and then bent, tying a silk scarf to each table leg.
“What are you doing?” Alice’s voice was raspy.
Cal glanced at her, for a moment his eyes wavering, but then he resumed his cold exterior. “You’re thirsty.” It was a statement, not a question. There was a bar along the wall as well, and below it a small refrigerator. Cal extracted an icy bottle of Perrier and carried it to the bed, twisting the cap off as he moved. He put a hand under Alice’s head, lifting it and tipped the bottle of water to her lips. She drank gratefully, a bit of the frigid liquid spilling over her chin and onto her breast. Cal bent and licked it, his tongue flicking over her sensitive nipple.
Alice’s wrists were sore, her fingers numb. “Unlock these cuffs,” she said. She looked at his engorged penis. “Unlock them so I can take care of that.” She smiled in a muzzy, sexy way.
Cal stood up, looking down at her. “I see you still don’t understand who is in charge here,” he said. He leaned toward the bedside table and extracted the handcuff key from the drawer.
Alice smiled. “That’s more like it,” she said, as he unlocked one cuff and walked around to the other side of the bed. “Let me taste you.” She looked longingly at his cock. It was so beautiful. She’d never loved giving a man oral sex as much as she enjoyed giving it to Cal.
He unlocked the other cuff, letting it drop to the bed, but instead of joining her, he pulled her roughly from the sheet and picked her up as if she were weightless. He carried her to the table, sitting her on its edge and pushing her body back against the wooden surface, his body pressing hers down. He secured one, then both arms to the table with the silken scarves.
“Stop this!” she demanded. “What are you doing?”
“As I said, you’ve not yet learned who the boss is.” Cal picked up one of her legs, bending it at the knee, her foot poised against the edge of the table. He tied it tightly to the third table leg, then secured her other leg in the same manner. He stood back, admiring his handiwork, her legs spread wide, open to him, and helpless; her pussy even deeper red in the soft light of the candles. He placed a finger at the opening of her vagina, and Alice sucked her breath in at his touch. He ran the finger upwards, grasping her clitoris between that finger and his thumb and rolled it, pinching, making Alice’s cunt convulse. She could feel her wetness sliding down her pussy, running onto the exposed rosebud of her asshole and onto the table.
“God,” she said weakly, her mind filling with unbidden desire.
He leaned close to her, his breath in her ear. “I am just getting started, my sweet Alice.”
He stood and walked across the room. On the dresser sat another ice bucket, in it a bottle of wine, as was customary each evening. Cal poured a bit of the wine in one of the waiting glasses and took a sip, then licked his lips, gazing at her. “Thirsty?” he said, a bit cruelly. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait.”
On the table, trussed as she was, uncomfortable, a little scared, Alice was also highly aroused. She wondered what Cal had in store – in the many days she had been here with him, she had never seen him quite so cold in his manner, so officious, and truth be told, it excited her greatly. She watched him in the golden light of the many candles, his skin glowing, his handsome features pulled taut by his manner, wanting him inside her; inside her swollen vagina, still tender from his violent lovemaking, there was an ache, an ache of passion from which she wanted relief, but she watched him, silent, speaking to him with her eyes.
Cal reached into the ice bucket and extracted a handful of ice cubes. He walked toward her, the cubes melting in his great hands, dripping on the carpeting. He stood over her then, his hand descending, melting ice dripping upon her skin causing sharp, little shivers. He began at her neck, tracing a line down, starting where her jugular vein throbbed, down into the little hollow at the base of her neck. Her body arched at the cold, and Alice sighed, her eyes on her tormentor, watching his lips, twisted into a wolfish smile. The ice was at the swell of her breast now, and then encircling her raised, swollen nipple making Alice cry out. Cal bent and took the opposite nipple in his mouth, his hot tongue swirling, the frigid cube on the other, the sensations of heat and cold confusing Alice’s body, making her hips arch up, her pussy slick and wet.
Then Cal rose and deftly switched the two, transferring the melting ice to his other hand and rubbing it over the nipple he’d suckled, made hot, and the cold of the ice seemed so much more so, the heat of his mouth on the frozen nipple hot as a fire. Alice bucked her hips toward him, her cunt wanting his touch, but he stayed mercilessly out of her reach. He laughed a little, then, his mouth vibrating on the breast he sucked and bit.
His hand was on the move suddenly, between her breasts, slowly, slowly, agonizingly so, trailing over her belly, the cubes melting into the hollow of her belly button. When the cube pressed onto her pubic bone, Alice sucked in her breath. Water from the melting ice slithered into her pubic hair and the slit of her pussy, its chill teasing her clit, then dripping onto the table beneath her. Alice was in a frenzy of desire and could hold her silence no longer. “Please, please, Cal, please fuck me!”
And so he did, sliding his icy cold fingers, and the ice cube inside her. Alice cried out at the sensation, like a frozen sword sliding into the very center of her, but before she could move or articulate a thought, Cal slid his long, hard cock into her, pushing the ice cube up inside her, against the very wall of her womb. Alice cried out once more, pleasure and pain mixing; she’d never experienced such a sensation, the cold ice, growing smaller, melting, and mixing with the juices from her cunt and his hot, hard cock thrusting, ever so slowly in and out of her, like a piston in slow motion, like a machine. He did not speak, just stood, his hands grasping her thrust up knees, his hips rocking slow and steady, keeping time with Alice’s raspy breathing, her moans.
Inside her, the pressure began to build, her pussy to convulse in preparation for the oncoming orgasm, and Cal, feeling the throbbing, slowly, excruciatingly, pulled his long cock from her body and walked away from her. She watched him cross the room, take a drink from the wine, then walk into the adjoining bathroom and close the door. She listened, thinking he’d gone in to relieve himself, possibly, then unbelievably, she heard the jets of the shower coming to life. “Oh, my God,” she said aloud. “Is he kidding?” Sure enough, she heard the sliding of the shower’s glass doors. Cal was taking a shower! She felt anger surge within her. In her head she heard him saying I don’t think you understand who the boss is. She took a deep breath. This was a game, wasn’t it? Just a game. She needed to calm herself, enjoy it. After all, wasn’t she the one who was tied here? The recipient of Cal’s ministrations?
Alice laid back and tried to re
lax her body. Her arms and legs felt tingly from being tied so tightly to the table, the silken scarves beginning to chafe her skin. Even though there was a part of her that was raging inside over being left trussed this way, forgotten almost, there was another part of her that remained aroused, left her pussy aching, remembering the slick, machine-like pumping of his rod inside her just moments earlier, part of her that cried out to be filled up once again. Deep inside she felt the residue of chill begin to leave her, but the ache remained, the ache of cold and of desire.
Momentarily, Cal opened the bathroom door, steam from the shower billowing out. Alice turned her head, taking in his moist, pink skin, glowing, and remarkably his still-stiff penis, standing at attention, rearing its lavender head. It its base his lovely scrotum hung fringed by freshly washed, curling hair. He was a lovely sight in the candle light. He toweled off his longish hair, walking toward her. “You know,” he said, his voice slow and soft. “I was thinking while I was in there.”
