“How’s our little slave girl?”
Blaine grinned, easing his arm out from under the bound, slumbering Erica. “I didn’t think you’d be back until late.”
His wife stepped fully into the light, her hands working in her hair. Her tight, tailored gray suit, while itself an almost masculine affectation, nevertheless perfectly accentuated her slim, willowy figure. “I had James fly me out of there early. Did you know he’s got a girl in Vancouver? He was quite amenable to getting me to Portland as fast as possible.” Kathryn smiled. “He just about flew the wings off that thing.”
“I’m glad you’re back,” Blaine said, rolling gingerly from the bed, hoping he wouldn’t wake the beautiful, constrained nude curled over the blankets. He pulled on the warm-ups, the cotton cool against his skin. Striding to Kathryn, he wrapped his arms around her, tasting her lips after much too long. “Missed you.”
She kissed him back, angling her hips against him, his cock stirring. “She didn’t wear you out I see.” Her hand closed around him, stroking slowly, knowingly. ”My insatiable husband.”
“Someone needs to be reminded of her place.”
Kathryn tilted her head, giving him an exaggerated flutter of eyelashes. “I’d say she’s well aware of her place.”
“I wasn’t talking about Erica,” he rumbled.
Yes, it had been much too long for many things. He used to obsess about when he’d next get his hands on his gorgeous, bewitching wife. Imagine the color and shape of the weals his whip would raise over her ass, her anguished cries filling the air. All of it culminating in the animal, primal energy of their fucking, taking her the way a woman like her needed, her body yielding to his lusts.
Deep blue eyes flashed at him, her smile faltering just a tiny bit. “Let’s get a drink.”
His hand caught her arm as she moved past him toward the bar. “Not here. Let her sleep a while. She’s tired.”
Kathryn allowed him to reel her back into his arms, and he kissed her cheeks, her eyelids. Her scent was something he’d never cease to enjoy. She always smelled so good — even after a nonstop from Bismarck to Portland. He worked the jacket off, his hands itching to reacquaint themselves with her flesh.
His flesh.
Slipping out of his grasp, she sauntered to the door, looking back at him as she finally loosened her hair, the golden mass of it falling all about her face. “Outside,” she whispered, and disappeared down the hall.
Ana, dressed in only her diaphanous nightgown, met him at the door. The dark surrounds of her nipples beneath the sheer fabric were plainly visible in the hallway light, and Blaine tore his gaze away from them to look back at the bound beauty slumbering on his bed.
The buxom maid’s brow furrowed. “Everything okay, Sir?”
“Leave her there until she wakes,” he said, laying a finger along a soft olive cheek, bringing her gaze up to his. “When she does, give her whatever she needs — but this door stays locked when you’re finished. Understand?”
Ana lowered her gaze, her hands clasped in front of her thighs. “Of course, Sir.” The dark nipples hardened under Blaine’s gaze, and he considered taking Ana out to the deck with him and Kathryn. It would not have been the first time they had pressed their maid into other… duties.
He kissed the mass of Ana's dark hair, then went searching for his wayward wife.
Chapter Three
T
he night air smelled faintly of sea and sulfur, the locals already lighting off a wealth of fireworks all around them. Kathryn sipped from her wine, her glass dangling in her long fingers, her slender, yet shapely figure leaning over, elbows poised on the black wrought iron of the railing. Strands of long hair blew about in the breeze, the wildness of it such a contrast to her normal compact, tightly controlled state.
His hand stroked lazily over the curve of her ass, so nicely displayed in the tight slacks. “You’ve gotta be beat, Kathryn. We don’t need to do this tonight, you know.”
Her gaze turned up to him, her face only partially illuminated by the streetlamps below. “I’m ready. We’re ready.”
Blaine shrugged, leaning his hip against the railing. He moved his hand up her back and submerged it in the heavy tresses. She moaned, arching her head up as he massaged her scalp.
“Maybe, maybe not.” he said. “What makes you so sure?”
“God, that’s fucking amazing, Blaine.”
“I aim to please,” he murmured. He grasped her nape in a firm grip, her body tensing. “But answer the question.”
She looked at him again, smiling. “Why do you play games like this? I know how much you want her. It’s plain to see.”
“You want her every bit as much as I do.” He wondered some days if she might actually prefer the young innocent to her own husband. Perhaps it was simply infatuation — it wasn’t as if he weren’t guilty of his share of obsessing over the fetching girl.
“Mm hmm,” she murmured. “And your point?”
Blaine pulled her head up, forcing Kathryn to straighten. “You forget yourself, wife.”
She caught her breath, her sparkling eyes searching his. “Make me remember, Blaine.”
He kissed her, spinning her around and slamming her back against the dark wood siding. She dropped the glass to the deck, wetness splashing against his foot. He forced his leg between hers, the heat of her cunt raised up on the hard muscles of his thigh. Her hands reached for his face and he batted them away, clutching them in one fist. He wrenched her head to the side, exposing the whiteness of her delicate throat to him.
She gasped as his lips found her soft flesh, nipped her skin. “When this is over tonight, you and I.” He caught a soft breast in his hand, squeezing brutally, her whimper drowned in his mouth. “We’re going to help remind you where you stand in this marriage.”
“Why not now,” she breathed, twisting her hips, grinding her heat into his thigh. “Show me.”
Blaine’s quelling finger pressed to her lips. “That’s for me to decide, woman.” He extricated his leg, to a disappointed murmur. “First, we need to talk.”
Kathryn’s gaze dropped to the wet planks. “Now that’s a waste of some good Malbec.”
Blaine crossed his arms over his chest, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh in the cool night breeze. “You’re sure about this?”
Kathryn blew out a breath, both hands grasping the rail. The wind caught her hair, twirling it like an ephemeral windsock for a moment. “Yes. Can’t you see?”
Blaine saw it. He felt it, the restlessness of his strong-willed wife. She submitted to him, in all things, and had from the very beginning. But that strong will needed an outlet, a focus.
They’d both enjoyed his taming of Kathryn’s willfulness in the beginning (and they still enjoyed it now), and yet with the passage of the years, and the blossoming of his once reticent wife into the fierce, driven corporate shark she was today, a new need had surfaced — one they both knew he was ill-equipped to satisfy.
Then she’d seen her. It happened quite by accident, really. Blaine’s friend Cam (a woman who was quite aware of his particular tastes) had told him she knew of a woman whom he might enjoy meeting. He hadn’t even thought about it with any deliberateness. Blaine had brought young, naive women into their bed before, of course. Kathryn had always reveled in it, soaking up the wide-eyed innocence exposed to the realities of a world of possibilities, to treatment equal parts tender and cruel.
That night Kathryn had come to exchange phones with him, having somehow left hers in his coat pocket. He’d barely spoken two words to Erica, but his cock was already hard for her, already imagining what those long legs would look like stretched out before him, her lush bottom quivering over his lap, her nervous breathing as she waited for her spanking to begin.
He’d watched Kathryn moving through the dazzling light of the courtyard, her gleaming golden plaits washing over the thick collar of her coat. God, she was so beautiful! She’d stopped dead upon seeing the girl he sat with.
Erica hadn’t seen her yet though, her trembling attention fixated on Blaine’s fingers as they stroked her open palm he held in his hands.
His wife’s glittering eyes met his, the naked fire in them quickening his heartbeat, his cock throbbing further. He’d walked to her then, hoping his coat hid the obvious bulge he was sure would be visible at his crotch.
“That’s her. Make her ours, Blaine.”
Those words had started it all for them, begun the journey — and with luck, they both hoped the new chapter in that journey, would begin tonight.
Nevertheless, he wondered. They’d never taken it this far before, and they’d planned to take things much further still. There was always a danger in it, introducing a third, subordinate though she’d definitely be — to the both of them. It was for that reason alone that he thought it just might work.
Having a slave meant responsibility, work, and diligence. Kathryn would be up to the task, and then some. In a way, he actually felt a little sorry for the girl. Though he’d seen her pussy react to Kathryn every bit as strongly as she reacted to him, he knew the young woman had no real concept of what she was truly getting herself into.
“Then if she passes your little test, you’ll have what you wanted, Kathryn.”
Her eyes stared off toward the dark expanse of the sea. “A slave.”
Blaine’s hand closed over hers, squeezing. “Ours.”
* * *
E
rica awoke to the movement of the bed. The room was pitch black, and she looked around groggily for light, any light. Then she remembered the blindfold.
“Sleep well?” Sir’s voice. The bed moved again, and she felt the warmth of his naked body next to her, his side pressing to her naked breasts, the hairs tickling her.
“Yeah… how long was I?”
“Awhile. It’s dark now. Time to head to the beach in a bit.”
Strong hands hooked under her arms, helping her to sit up, the blackness behind the blindfold disorienting her for a moment. “Ahh, this… ”
She twisted within the arm binder, her fingers working in the soft cloth balled in her palms.
“Stop that,” Sir said, a hand slapping her breast, sending it bouncing. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. It’s just … need to get loose.” Her hands were sweaty, and she wanted them out, to feel the fresh, cool air kiss her clammy skin again.
“You’re not getting out of that binder until I say so. You can start by doing what you’re told. Now stop fidgeting.”
Hard hands captured her breasts, kneading the vulnerable flesh, her treacherous nipples tightening against his grip. “As much as I like what your struggling does to these tits of yours, I don’t want you injured.” He bounced a breast in his palm then let it drop, his finger tapping her chin. “Be a good girl now.”
She nodded with a whimper, curling into herself, trying vainly to find some way to feel less … vulnerable. It felt like her breasts had spotlights on them.
“Just follow my lead, girl.” His hands pulled on her arms, drawing her toward him, and for the millionth time she cursed the arm binder for preventing her from embracing him. The damned thing ensured that everywhere Erica went, she led with her breasts. She felt her nipples stiffen at the thought, and Blaine chuckled somewhere in front of her.
“Eager?”
“No, Sir,” she lied. She couldn’t tell if the cool wetness between her thighs was her own juices or Sir’s seed. He rarely gave her leave to allow her to clean his semen from her sex, and this time was no different.
He clasped her waist tightly, and she stiffened. “Lift your leg up now. There you go.”
Oh, please let it be this.
Something hot and hard touched her inner thighs, and she barely suppressed an exultant yell. She loved being on top of her Sir. It was so rarely allowed during her visits that she regarded it as a true gift, allowing her to grind her clit against him as they fucked. He allowed her to ride his cock, but still he controlled her, directed her movements. Her physical proximity to him meant nothing — he was still her Sir in every sense.
The broad head of his cock slipped between swollen, sensitive labia and she slid down, down. Erica panted as he spread her wide once more, her pussy unexpectedly sore from the earlier encounter. He must have been even harder on her than she’d thought.
Her pussy spasmed at the thought, making her wince.
Hands squeezed her waist. “Stay very still Erica. Very still. I want to look at you.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, dropping her head even though she was blindfolded. She knew he was watching the rise and fall of her proffered breasts, even as the hot blush spread from her cheeks down her neck. Such was the one drawback of the position — total exposure to him. From the flush of her cheeks to her bouncing breasts (as she had no doubt they would be once he worked her up to speed) down to the bare pussy stretching around his thick, throbbing cock. All of it for him, his to do with as he pleased.
“Very slowly now, work me with that cunt.” He slapped her breast, his finger catching a hard nipple, making her yelp at the sting. “Slower, more. There you go.”
Erica knew how he liked it, and her sinuous hips swirled as she thrust up and down on the big penis, her pace entirely dictated by those hard, cruel hands. Her pussy made a wet noise upon him and she felt her cheeks warm anew.