by Evelyn Glass
“The whole romance in the bedroom, the sensual shit – it’s gone. All of it. We’re doing hardcore bondage.” I could see their eyes bulge out as they looked to each other for reaction.
Elise, my go-to makeup and hair artist, was the first to get courage and let out the elephant in the room. “Wilder, I just have one question. Did Kylie give the okay on this?”
I paused. She hadn’t. The last time we did bondage, Daniel, our old director and producer, had forced her into it. She ended up flourishing, though. I hadn’t seen an amateur take to the harder stuff like that before. I cleared my throat, drawing up all the confidence I could muster. I couldn’t be concerned if she was my stepsister or a hurt girl with a broken heart in my dressing room. I needed my talent to be on. I looked back at Elise. “No, she doesn’t know. I’m going to type up a quick script and Marco will deliver it to her. If she doesn’t want to participate, she will break contract, and I will deal with it later. But for now, I'm under the impression she will do whatever needs to be done.”
It was crap, a total lie. We didn’t have a contract. It was part of our rules. Contracts were for people like Daniel who blackmailed girls into porn. Instead, we collaborated, discussed, planned. When she wasn’t part of the process, there was an unwritten trust that I would keep her safe and never push her too far, but what I’ve got in mind for today is going to be a whole lot different than what she could dream of.
I continued, no longer wanting to discuss Kylie or what she may want or not want, “For sets, I want black. All black. Make sure lighting is aware so they can do their thing. With props, I want toys, ropes, lube…that sort of thing. Costume for me is what I’m wearing now. She needs to be in a black, silk dress and a black mask. Can we get that on time?”
Elise nodded her head at me. I watched as she gulped. She could sense danger. As the makeup, hair, and costume artist, she had seen the ups and down of our relationship from backstage. I knew she was aware that Kylie was more than just an actress to me. But she didn’t want to risk losing the job by speaking her mind. She was going to follow this to the end, as well.
I clapped my hands together loudly as my mind emptied of thoughts. Everyone nodded as I confirmed they understood their roles and that they needed it done in under two hours. But I gave one final warning, one final request. “What we’re going to be doing on stage isn’t going to be easy, especially for Kylie or myself. We don’t do this sort of thing often. But I need it to be authentic if it’s going to sell well with our market. That’s why I’m asking you all and your teams to be on their best today. No interruptions, no fumbles. Get the best shots and get out of here. Do we got that?”
The team mumbled an affirmative before I dismissed them with a wave of my hand. I closed the door behind me as the last person left. I turned my attention to the computer sitting on the small coffee table and I began to write. With porn, there was no real need to have much in the way of a script; much of what we said was always improvised on the spot or done based on characters. But I wanted to give Kylie something to read before she walked out on stage, something she could remember and hold onto.
I wasn’t going to play it nice with her. I wasn’t going to take her gently or even ease her into this. I needed for her to know she could trust me, despite my past. If she could get over that roadblock in her mind, the one keeping her from looking at our future rather than our past, then I might have had a shot of getting her back for good. But doing so was going to be one of the hardest things I would ever have to do.
My fingers paused as they hovered over the keyboard. I sighed in deeply, steadying myself in the process. I asked myself one more time if I was ready to give Kylie this kind of pain and pleasure. And as a small part of me swelled with anticipation while my nerves rolled off me, I wrote the first lines for Kylie’s last porn shoot ever:
Kylie: Why are you doing this to me? I don’t understand?
Wilder: What don’t you understand? You’re mine now. Forever and always.
Chapter 22
I watched Kylie as she walked out of her dressing room. She looked tired, and I could tell her eyes were swollen, despite being made up in that dark and smoky look I requested. She hunched her shoulders over as she slowly approached the scene. I didn’t know if Elise told her I changed the scene up or if she thought this was the original scenario before, but something about her was overly cautious.
I watched as she touched a discarded piece of rope from the prop table and eyed the slick, silver dispenser of lube. The sleek sex toys sitting in the corner made her pause for a second, her fingers almost touching them. But she looked back at my direction, stealing a glance, before walking on towards the set.
The prop master slowly explained how she would be tied. The last time she was in a bondage scene, she was propped up against a wall using cuffs and bars. Today, it would just be lengths of rope. He centered her on a small hidden “X” mark and then wound rope around her arms first, pulling them straight out using a pulley system he created that I would manipulate from slightly off scene. By the way she leaned forward, putting weight on the arms, I could tell she was trying to decide if she would be able to escape.
Then came her legs. He warned her this was the worst part as he made her spread them wide, pushing them farther apart by her ankles. She looked like a dangling black star when he was through with her. She was stuck floating in a black space cosmos, her shine diminished by the circumstances.
Kylie asked for some water before beginning and Elise returns with a cup, slowly offering it to her lips. She sipped it tenderly before thanking her. I heard her whisper to the makeup artist as she reapplied her ruby red lipstick, “What’s my safe word again?” My stomach turned. She had never asked for a safe word before. Maybe I was taking this way too far?
As she settled in, I nodded my head to the lighting crew. The house lights were dimmed and an eerie hush grew over the bustling crew. Everyone ran to their positions behind the cameras or hidden behind set pieces. I quickly adjusted my tie as I stepped off of the scene, slightly out of the view of the camera.
Elise placed the mask over Kylie’s eyes as I heard her breath stick in her throat. She was whimpering or crying. I couldn’t tell which. Either way, she was struggling with this more than I thought she was. Our fight off scene was making its way onto the set. But I needed her to buck up. I needed her to fight back. Her head picked up slightly as she heard Marco’s voice in the distance, “The Last Meeting. Take One. In 3, 2…” He whispered the “1” as everyone steered on ahead.
Kylie suddenly transformed, crying out into the distance. Her voice was guttural, wrenching. It was as if I really kept her here in my dungeon against her will, tied up for my pleasure. She screamed angrily, “LET ME OUT! PLEASE! LET ME OUT!” The camera scanned a shot up and down her withering body. Her lacey white thighs pulled far apart, her thin black negligée clinging to her twisted body, a glimpse of her uncovered pussy as the material lifted over her hips as she shouted again. Her elegant neck leaned its head back as she dipped down a bit attempting to use her weight to free her.
My hands clenched into fists as I try to centered myself. I needed all the courage and anger I could get. I couldn’t think of her as the girl crying in her room or the teenager in the bed across from mine. She was my captive, my sex slave, my toy. She was nothing but an object to me. At least, I repeated that over and over in my head.
I stepped onto the scene, a camera following me. I walked down a fake stairway behind her, my footsteps alerting her of my presence. She said my first line, calling back to where I was standing slightly behind her trapped body, “Why are you doing this to me? I don’t understand.” She was sincere – angry but sincere. The real Kylie wanted me to free her just as much as her character. And there was fear, real and present fear, telling me she wasn’t going to trust being tied up and tortured.
I stood behind her, a hand wrapping around her thin, silk covered hip, my fingers pressing into her and pulling her body slightly
back towards mine. My other hand pulled her long blonde hair to the side as I leaned down and whispered into her ear, “What don’t you understand? You’re mine now. Forever and always.”
Her skin turned bumpy from the breath against her face and neck. She let out a hitched cry as she continued with her lines, not straying from my script. “I’m not yours! You kidnapped me and brought me here. And when my boyfriend finds you, he will kill you!”
I chuckled mischievously as I let my grip on her go, sending her stumbling forward, the ropes catching her fall. “Your boyfriend will never find you down here. And by the time I'm through with you, I doubt you’ll ever want to go back to that weak and pathetic man.”
She reeled her head to the direction of my voice and spat onto the ground. “You’re horrible! A goddamn criminal! I swear, I would never, never submit to you. Ever!” I couldn’t tell who she was talking to – me or the character. But her voice was so raw and hurt, there had to be truth in it. She wasn’t going to give me her trust without a fight.
“We’ll see about that.” My hand jolted to her thigh, slapping the skin suddenly. She let out a cry and sunk farther into the ropes. I grabbed her from around her throat, making sure to not press down or choke her. I turned her head towards my face as I commanded her, “You will not scream. No matter what I do, you will not scream. If you scream, it will only be worse for you. Do you understand?”
She wet her lip with her pink tongue before meekly replying, “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” I pulled her even closer to me, our faces just inches from touching.
She gritted her teeth before answering, “Yes, sir.” She had satisfied me, but it wasn’t enough. I slapped the other thigh with my hand as she bit her lip and squatted a bit in pain.
My hand moved upwards towards her crotch, easing the silk higher up her hip, revealing her naked curves and lines to the camera. As I stood behind her, I leaned down and drove my finger directly into her. She gasped, wrapping her hands around the rope. I moved my finger in and out of her a few times, getting the lay of the land, familiarizing myself with her tight pussy once again.
I exited out as fast as I came in, bringing my finger to my mouth for a taste. It was a scent I knew and loved. It was sweet, almost like honey or sap to my lips. But I didn’t want to have it all. After a few small licks, I used my other hand to open her mouth and placed my finger inside her red lips. She sucked down reluctantly as I danced it in and out again, just as I did her parts below.
An idea came to me as I turned back towards the table set up by the props crew. The camera followed as I pretended to deliberate what to use on my victim next. I paused at the large silver dildo, but instead I grabbed more rope. Before I could do anything else, I needed her naked, fully exposed. I used the pocketknife in my back pocket to make a quick cut to the silk dress’s thin straps. It flew off of her, catching the air and landing between her legs. I couldn’t help myself. Though I had work to do, I still wrapped one of my hands around her breast, cupping it and feeling its soft weight in my hand. She leaned her head back towards my chest, resting it slightly in ecstasy.
But I broke the sudden, gentler shift as I draped the long rope around her neck like a scarf and then knotted it several times down the middle, between her breasts and near her stomach. In a sudden motion, I hitched the rope dangling between her legs from under her, letting it rub up loosely against her folds. The rope went around her backside, up her back, and through the circle around her neck. With a few extra ties around her breasts, waist, and hips, she was set.
As I made my final ties, she began to squirm uncomfortably. The ropes tightened around her pussy and one slipped between her folds as it should’ve. She let out a hushed moan. “What are you doing to me…Sir?”
“It’s called a Karada tie, my slave. And it’s the only way I can ensure that you’ll stay put. The more you struggle, the more that rope will rub raw into you. You don’t want that, now, do you? But if you stay like a good little girl and let me do what I want to you, I’ll cut them off of you.”
She whispered towards me, low enough so the cameras couldn’t pick it up, “Please, don’t do this.”
As I adjusted the last knots, I leaned in towards her ears and softly asked the real Kylie, “You have to trust me. You can do this.” Her vulnerability melted me to my core. But I needed her to let me continue.
She shook a bit as the rope dug harder into her. Whatever she did, she wasn’t getting out of this, and she knew that. She nodded towards me before transforming back into the angry, scared girl tied up for her master.
I walked off again, letting the cameras get a close up of my work. One of the men lingered around her pussy where the rope was almost completely engulfed by all of her wiggling. It pushed up against her clit, and I knew from past experience that what she was feeling was some sick sense of real pain and pleasure mingling together. I could see her slightly squatting, allowing the rope to travel deeper inside her. She may have actually wanted this.
I returned to the scene with the silver dildo in my hand. I never used toys, but, in this case, I wanted to give Kylie as much torture as she could stand. I turned it on to the lowest setting, listening to the soft hum. I placed it to her red lips, forcing her to kiss it. Her lipstick left a ruby imprint along the bullet-shaped tip. I lowered it down her neck, following the tan ropes towards her breasts. My ties left an opening for her tits to stick out enough for me to play with. I let the cold toy linger on her nipple until it became beady and erect for me. I did the same to her other nipple as my free hand played with the other one.
I couldn’t help myself much more as I longed to taste her skin. I lowered my head towards her neck, brushing away the blonde hair. I licked the smooth white flesh between her collarbone and neck before biting down gently. She squealed in shock and I twisted her nipple hard in my hand, dropping the dildo to the ground and making sure the other one was punished equally. I did warn her about my rules.
I picked up the dildo off the floor. It was still vibrating, still humming along. I turned up the intensity to the medium setting and placed it again to her lips. This time, I slid it into her mouth just like my finger before. I watched as she licked it, reading my mind as to what I wanted. From behind her, I loosened one of my lower knots near her ass, giving me enough slack to move the rope deep within her pussy out of the way. She moaned involuntarily, the humming of the vibrator matching the buzz on her lips. I heard her whimper slightly.
That’s when I knew I was ready to have some real fun.
I yanked the dildo out of her mouth violently, and she gasped, catching her breath. To make up for the suddenness of the act, I traced my index finger down her neck, starting at her ear, very lightly touching her, giving her visible goosebumps along her collarbone.
She shuddered and fidgeted in the restraints. “Wilder,” she moaned, “what—"
I cut her off with a swift slap on her ass. I didn’t hold back; it left a hand-shaped red mark on her right cheek. “Shut your pretty little mouth, slave-girl,” I spat. “I told you, you will call me ‘sir.’”
“Yes, sir,” she said quietly, resigned to her fate. “I was just—"
I slapped her again, this time on the opposite ass cheek.
“Speak when spoken to, slave!” I yelled at her. “You’re obviously not getting this yet.” I sighed. “I guess,” I said with an evil grin that she couldn’t see through the blindfold, “I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” I ran the vibrator, still buzzing, down her neck and along her shoulders. She moaned again as I circled it past her tits, making sure to go over the nipples ever-so-gently. “Does that feel good?” I asked her.
“Yes, sir,” she confessed.
“And this?” I immediately removed the dildo from her nipple and, using my thumb and index finger, twisted her nipple so tightly I could feel it engorge in my hand. She shrieked, whimpering and almost on the verge of tears. “Is that the kind of thing my little sex toy likes?” I asked cruelly.
/> “Yes, sir,” she repeated breathlessly.
“Good,” I said, impressed. “That’s right. Well, I think you deserve a bit of a reward, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” she said hopefully.
“Yes,” I said again. “Yes, you do.” I moved the dildo down her mons and used it to part her labia.
She moaned as she felt the ripples go through her body, the vibrator hitting directly on her clit. She shuddered, slowly at first, but then faster, her legs drawing up towards her body. Her breathing quickened, and she arched her back, as if she were about to orgasm.
I pulled the vibrator away. “Not so fast, you spoiled – little – brat!” I scolded her as she gasped for air. “You don’t get to cum yet. I say when you cum. And I say you wait!” With that, I shoved the dildo into her wet, waiting pussy. She cried out, so I slapped her face – not hard, but enough to remind her she was no longer in control. “Do I need to gag you, kitten? You do not get to scream until I tell you you may. Understood?”
