Darkest Fantasies (13 page)

'My number's
unlisted,' he sneered smugly, not believing she'd carry out the
threat, even if she did have his home number.

She grinned,
picked up a mobile phone from her bag, and tapped in a number.
Kevin stood there watching, a sense of unreality creeping over him.
Even from where he was he could hear the ringing tone. Then there
was the sound of a voice, tiny, but recognisable. 'Hello... Hello?
Who is this?'

He took an
angry step towards Louise, wrenched the phone from her hand, and
thrust her backward onto the bed as he cancelled the call. Throwing
the telephone aside he put a knee on her chest and pinned her
wrists back up above her head. 'You bitch,' he said, then stopped.
They stared at each other, face to face for a moment, and Kevin
could see she was flushed and panting. 'This is what you wanted all
along, isn't it?' he panted.

She said
nothing, but pulled fractionally at the confinement of his hands
around her wrists as though testing his strength. He tightened his
hold. She wriggled slightly harder, then lifted a leg and kneed him
in the ribs. It hurt, but he retained his grip, shifting his body
so she couldn't do that a second time. 'Oh, we like to play rough,
do we? Well, two can play at that game, darling.'

He flipped her
over onto her front and put a knee in the small of her back, the
power and weight differential evident in the ease with which he
held her there while he leaned back and dragged a rope from the
chest. Despite her furious struggles he bound her hands behind her
back, then crossed her ankles and dragged them up behind her,
hog-tying her with one end of the rope so that her knees splayed
out. Then he lifted her head by her tangled green hair and wrapped
the other end of the rope around her mouth so she was arched back
by the makeshift gag.

To his
surprise he found himself buzzing with the excitement of tying her
up, and was warming to the event quite nicely. 'I saw that one in a
magazine,' he said conversationally. 'I think you'll find you can't
get out of it.'

She struggled
against the bonds, making grunting noises, but Kevin realised she
was not upset at all, just really turned on by her lack of control.
He also realised quite suddenly that this was for real. This was
what the bitch wanted. She wanted to be used and abused; it was
what she thrived on. He sat on the bed beside her and inserted a
hand into her garments, searching and finding a nipple to toy with.
She groaned and squirmed at his touch, and his own arousal was
galvanised into action. Swivelling her around on the bed, he put
his hands into her skirt and yanked her knickers down, forcing them
over her knees until they dangled on her crossed ankles. She was
panting with anticipation as he smoothed both hands up over her
tight buttocks.

His prick
throbbed, the tightness of his trousers an almost painful
constriction as his erection pumped into being. He felt his breath
shortening with anticipation as he thrust a finger between her
thighs to find she was already wet and slick and ready. From his
experience at the hands of the not-so-lovely Michelle a couple of
months back, he knew that she was aroused simply by the action of
being tied up, something he would not have really believed had it
not happened to himself.

Trembling
slightly he slipped down to kneel at the side of the low bed,
unzipped his trousers and thrust them down over his thighs. He
pulled Louise towards him and tempted his rampant erection with the
sight of the exposed female sex as he untied her ankles. Now he was
able to pull her off the edge of the bed to slip her vagina cosily
onto his ready cock. She knelt before him in an arc, her neck still
bent back towards him by the rope gag attached to her wrists, her
breasts jutting out wantonly into his seeking hands. He ripped the
fabric from them, not caring about the damage he was doing to her
clothes, and grasped handfuls of her generous bosom as he began to
move in and out of her in long leisurely strokes, sighing with the
sheer eroticism of having this tight and nubile body at his
disposal, to use as he pleased. Oh God, he thought, it was
beautiful.

She moaned a
little, her hands working behind her, but he was not interested in
whether she was comfortable or not. All he was interested in was
pleasing himself, and it was good. Slowly he rubbed himself to
explosive heights inside her, his prick enjoying every gliding,
sensitising movement, while his hands worked at her breasts,
kneading, pinching her large nipples into erection with finger and
thumb as he pleasured himself, thrusting for deeper penetration.
Then the novelty of the occasion became too much. He felt an
incredible buzzing in his loins and thrust his hips violently a few
times until he came, pulsing deep inside her.

When he was
done the euphoria diminished to a faintly comfortable aftermath. He
pulled away and released the rope from her mouth, leaving her hands
tied securely.

'That good,
bitch?' he mocked.

'Hell,' she
panted, tenderly touching her lips, then twisting her lithe body
until she sat on the bed facing him, 'a bloody virgin could have
managed to last longer than that, and I didn't even come.'

'My, oh my,
you really do want the works, don't you.'

He stood up
and explored the chest, and discovered a rather nice stainless
steel leg-stretcher with a variable width adjustment. He turned his
head to where she sat staring at him with that faintly supercilious
expression on her face only rich kids manage to achieve with any
degree of success.

'Okay, you got
it, sunshine,' he announced. 'I'm gonna make those nerve-endings
jangle for you like they never jangled before. Ready to say thank
you?'

She yanked at
the rope around her wrists, her mouth descending into a moue of
distaste. 'Fuck off, old man. I've had better than you a thousand
times already. Now untie me.'

'What, fed up
already?' he said, his light words betraying faint irritation. The
damn girl was ripe for chastising, damn her. Except there was no
way he was going to get it up for a while now. Hell, he'd get her
ready and she could damn well wait for him.

He advanced on
her with the leg-stretcher, and she instantly flew into action,
kicking with a force which would have downed him had he not been
expecting it. He thrust her onto the bed again so he could sit on
her bum while he efficiently strapped the implement to her ankles
before stretching her legs accommodatingly wide and securing them
there.

Going back to
the chest he pulled out another stretcher, and once again sitting
astride her managed, with very few scratches, to get her wrists
untied and secured to the bar. Then he lifted her bodily and
carried her to the beam where the electric pulley was waiting, and
attached its hook to the centre of the wrist-stretcher before
walking over to the electric pulley to wind the contraption up
until she stood on tiptoe.

'That good,
darling?' he said.

'Could be
better,' she snapped. 'Not very original, is it?'

'Patience,
dear girl,' he replied. 'We've got plenty of time. Now, just let me
slip this nice little hood on for you. Anticipation is a marvellous
aphrodisiac.'

'I don't like
hoods,' she snarled.

'Getting a
little fainthearted, are we?'

Her eyes
darted daggers at him and she tried to lash out with her feet, but
the stretcher made it impossible for her to achieve any level of
accuracy or strength. Kevin advanced with the rubber hood stretched
between his hands. 'Open wide, my dear. This one has a nice pump-up
gag, which is just up your street.'

He made a fist
and stuck a single finger up at her. 'This is your fail-safe sign,
d'you understand? You do this to me and I'll stop whatever I'm
doing, instantly. But if you do that, I'll go home and that will be
the end of it. Now, let's see what you're made of, you rich-bitch
cow.'

'What the hell
do I need a fail-safe for?' she challenged aggressively. 'I've
never needed one before, arsehole.'

'I doubt
anyone's ever given you the thrashing you deserve, either,
bitch.'

She quivered
with excitement. 'You're going to thrash me?'

'I'm going to
do what daddy should have done ages ago. I'm going to mark this
lovely white bottom with red lines that criss-cross each other, and
I'm going to do lots of other things I will thoroughly enjoy. Then
when you're really sore I'm going to have sex with you any way
which pleases me, and I don't care if you never come. Do you
understand?'

He could see
she did from the way her eyes began to glaze.

He forced the
hood over her head, pushed the gag into her mouth, and pulled the
laces tightly down the back, trapping her into darkness and
silence. He ran a hand up beneath her skirt, feeling the dampness
of his previous loving between her legs, and felt her quiver with
anticipation. She was certainly a nubile sexpot. He moved between
her accommodating legs and rubbed himself against her, just for the
pleasure of being able to do so.

'Right, let's
get you naked, Louise, and have a good gander at what you've got to
offer.' Discovering a pair of scissors lying on her dressing table,
he began slowly, and with great enjoyment, to remove her clothes.
She was distinctly unhappy about this arrangement, and made it
clear by the grunting noises of discontent that she didn't approve
of her designer-ripped clothes being mutilated by the hand of an
amateur. However, she did not give him the finger, so he carried on
until she was standing there stretched into a wide St Andrew's
cross, wearing nothing but her creamy-white birthday suit, with her
firm buttocks and ample breasts jutting enticingly.

He cupped
those breasts in his hands, weighing them with enjoyment, then slid
to the nipples and began to roll them between thumb and forefinger.
She moved slightly in time with him, her hips echoing the speed,
then jerked as the pressure increased. He noticed her stomach pull
in, her chest rise as he carried on twisting, harder and harder,
turning the brown teats into barley sugar sticks, one way, then the
other way. When he finally let go they were almost twice the size
they had been initially, infused with blood.

He ran a
finger down her side, from armpit to thigh, and as he stroked her
skin seemed to crawl before him, sensitised beyond anything he had
ever seen before. From the way she was moving, the way her hands
clenched and stretched, he realised she was ready for sex, that her
body was in the throes of heightened enjoyment. Not that he was
ready to play again. It was easy for a woman; she just had to be a
receptacle. The man, however, had to manage an erection, and that
was just not possible so soon after shooting his load. But he knew
confidently that it would come back. He wasn't too bothered about
the wait, and she, after all, had no choice.

He slipped
away from her and deftly removed his own clothes. He now knew what
Louise wanted, for whatever reason: domination and pain, pure and
simple. That anyone could actually desire or be aroused by pain was
a new concept for him. It was something he had always fervently
believed only existed between the pages of books and in his own
twisted imagination, yet here it was, in the flesh. His own
experience with his fantasy woman, so real he could almost taste
it, had confirmed this exciting knowledge to his own flesh. Pain
and lack of physical control over its delivery were stimulating to
the nth degree. Though Kevin was already stimulated simply by the
excitement of the situation, he didn't want to hurry. He wanted to
linger and wallow in pleasure while he hurt her, for only in his
darkest dreams had he ever expected to find a woman in need of this
kind of domination. He had never, in his whole and varied sexual
career to date, expected to be presented with one in the flesh.
Even the thought sent a small and pleasing signal to his prick,
making him shiver with exhilaration.

She waited,
hanging there, for him to use. He could sense her tension, her
expectation, though he had not touched her again. He wandered over
to the window, let the blinds up a bit, and sipped his drink,
watching the sun highlight her body as life went on in ignorant
bliss outside. He knew she listened to the sound of his movements,
and was absolutely aware of herself and him, and their intertwined
roles.

When ready he
carefully put his empty glass down and, moving silently like a
prowling animal, chose from her chest a whippy riding crop. He bent
it between his hands as he imagined her going into a shop to
purchase it, secretly excited, while on the surface appearing bland
and unconcerned and the owner of recalcitrant horses.

He reached
out, touched her between the legs with the tip of the crop. She
jolted ferociously. His lips drew back in a wolfish smile. He
pulled his wrist back and aimed not for the buttocks as she would
be anticipating, but for the tip of one breast. The crop hit the
bloated nipple with a crack, instantly leaving a fine red line on
either side. Louise jerked with a cry of astonishment, her body
leaping upward in a co-ordinated movement which would have made a
gymnast happy. Then her feet regained the floor, and she stood,
tensed, waiting for the next slash, panting heavily behind the
mask. Kevin smiled and waited, watching her head tilt slightly as
she struggled to hear. Only when she began to fidget with unrest
did he draw back his wrist to aim another shot, this time on the
inside of one white thigh.

Again she
lurched with a shot of pleasure which was almost equalled by a
response from his own body. So soon? he thought. Well, well. Now
his prick attained a pendulous appearance, and to assist in his own
enjoyment he wrapped a cord around his balls and tied it off.
Almost instantly little signals of desire flashed through to his
brain, matched with the pulsing spasms of his own sexual
constriction. He raised his arm and the crop flashed again and
again until her breasts were crossed with fine red lines and she
was scrabbling round and round in a circle to escape the instrument
wreaking torment upon her body.