Sleeves (36 page)

Chink, chink, chink.

The chains rustled as she tugged at her restraints.

Slaaaack!

“Like that, slut? You like the way I warm you up, and show you what it feels like when you try to touch me? See why I had to chain you up like a fucking, shameless animal.”

She whimpered, her panting breaths more labored now. Her head nodded.

His flogger whipped out, and the voyeurs gasped at how her flesh pinked so readily.

Her pale skin was a delight to torture and mark.

Slaaaack!

A strike across the breasts and her hands found a way to curl around the bars.

“Uuuuuhhhhhmmmm God!” she groaned and her grip tightened.

“That’s not what I told you to say when you’d had enough. A filthy whore like you shouldn’t be ready to quit already. Tell me what you think now?”
Slaaaaack!
Across the pubis. “Should you have gotten in this cage with me?”

“I . . . W-want to touch you, mmmake you c-come,” she stuttered. “I can sssset you free.”

“You
think
you can, but there’s no way a little sleazy girl like you knows how to do something like that,” he said, chuckling.

So cute.

Slaaaaack! Slaaack!

Two quick slaps across her inner thighs.

Her legs spread wider.

“Should I bend you over? I could lengthen the chain if I choose, and I could be inside you in front of all these fuckers. They’d love that, wouldn’t they? Watching you make a mess when you squirt uncontrollably all over my cock, if I choose to give it to you,” Kel snarled, watching her chest flush and her nipples tighten even more.

Fuck, she was gorgeous.

So curvy.

Someone in the audience grunted, and he was hearing movement.

This was usually when someone whipped out a cock, started touching it, or some woman found a man to fuck with, using her mouth on him.

It was bedlam.

Kel stroked himself over his jeans, and his abs contracted.

Always shirtless for these nights. It made it easier to determine how bad the burn would be.

A few more strikes across her belly and her bra covered breasts, then a final hit to her pussy, under her short, school girl uniform skirt. He’d already removed her panties. If he gave those finish strokes she’d be undone; a panting, sweating mess.

He was breathless watching how she sagged from her bindings, her breasts tipped forward—luscious, full and pink—ready to fall out of their cups and spill into his hands.

Delicious.

Finally, she was ready.

He approached her, stroked her long curly black hair and then held some on the flat of his palm and sniffed it.

Fuck, she smelled good.

“Trying to tempt me, bitch, smelling this goddamn fucking good?” He smacked her left tit.

She bit her lip and tipped her head back, arching toward him.

“Slut—look at you, begging for it. If I undo your chains, you’ll collapse, but not from exhaustion—from damn near dying to taste the bead of fucking anticipation on my cock’s head.” He ran his nose down her jugular, between her perky tits and down her belly. He licked her navel, and her right leg bent, then she went up on tiptoes.

Was she trying to guess where he’d go next, and chase after him with her body?

It was like he had a magnet tracing lines through her body to his.

He chuckled low and dark. “That’s right—you want it real bad. Never seen anyone so desperate to be fucked.”

“Pllllleeeease!” she breathed, her head tipped to the side, as close to him as she could get.

He could see her eyes blinking beneath the blindfold.

Another soft cry out in the audience. Someone was getting off already.

“Fuck, you hear that? Someone’s coming, because of what I’m doing to you. Does that make you wetter? You dripping with excitement now?” He extended his palm and did a quick swipe.

His hand was glistening right away.

He dragged his tongue along the wetness and took a deep whiff as he went.

“Fucking bitch—smelling and tasting like candy. I’ve got a sweet tooth. You know this, don’t you?”

She inhaled through her nose, making her nostrils flare.

“Feel that?” He took his cock out, had it in hand, drew a wet line across her upper thigh. Her leg squirmed.

“Not gonna pretend I’m unaffected. I want your wet pussy on more than my hand. See how wet my cock is, leaking like a pathetic dick, even though I get off every night now. You wish that wasn’t the case. You wish I was dying for you like you are for me. Why should I want
you
, though?”

“You do—you picked me,” she reminded him, her voice soft and delicate like a petal.

Fuck that shit. She wasn’t gonna do that to him—make him come undone from her voice alone.

He lunged at her, both his hands smacking the bars right next to her head and a mere inch inside her own hands. His mouth crashed onto hers, and like a greedy ho, she was opening her mouth wider, allowing his tongue to make love to hers.

She swallowed down pained erotic sounds, and it made his cock swell.

Normally he’d get out a feather or something really soft and torture the slut’s tingling skin after being flogged and pinked, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed this. Needed
her
.

He kept his dick far enough away from her though that all she knew was his tongue in her mouth and his hands near hers.

A little more teasing would be good for this bitch.

Her fingers stretched inward, brushing her fingertips along the edge of his hands.

“Sssffffffff, it stings,” he told her between his fight for control over her mouth and control over his will power.

She squirmed.

“I won’t fuck you,” he stretched on tiptoes, licked a line down the bridge of her nose, then over her mouth and pulled off at her chin, “
yet
.”

His mind whirred, bringing up images of when he’d painted a white stripe down Casey’s nose with his come.

Fabulous, now he was harder than ever.

Before he realized it, he was rubbing his entire body all over hers, soaking up the feeling of prickles and barbs everywhere.

He yanked his balls all the way out, and he was even finding ways to smash those onto her, too.

The friction was delicious, but not nearly as good as the sounds she was making.

“Fucking cunt—shoulda gagged you—sounding so turned on you’ll die if I don’t fuck you soon.” He nipped at her right nipple.

She jutted her chest out so far, that little fucking nub launched its way into his mouth even though it was still covered with her bra.

He cupped her breast with both hands, making the nipple protrude further and he played with it, running his tongue around it, flicking it repeatedly across the tip.

“Please, God . . . Can’t take it,” she cried out, her hands clawing at the bars.

“Wish you’d stayed outside the cage yet?” He blew across her tit, then he distended the nipple further by tugging on it with his lips, wrapped over his teeth. The fabric was soaked, making a nice wet spot on her bra.

“Ahhhhhhhh shit!” Her voice escalated the more he tugged on it.

He let it go, pulled down the cup and then brushed his stubbled cheek across her nipple, abrading it. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to stimulate it further. He covered her back up directly after. No way he was sharing this shit with anyone else. Those fuckers out there didn’t need to see her gorgeous dusky pink nipple.

So much movement from the audience from that gesture.

He was tempted to glance out in the low-lit room, but what was the point?

None of those bitches had caught his attention like this one had.

“Need to douse you before I come on you,” he said, stroking himself.

“Here!” someone called out, their hand jutting through the bars with a bottle of wine.

His long arm reached out, and he leaned to the side. “Thanks,” he said, smiling.

“Oh Christ!” she mewled when the cold bottle rolled across her pubic pad.

“This is for me, not you, bitch. I need it cold so your skin won’t scald me.”

“You’ll fuck me, then?” Her lips twitched into a sort of smile, sort of pained expression.

“Maybe if you ride the bottle for me, then I’ll consider it.”

Without a second’s hesitation, he had the butt of the bottle between her legs, and though her breath hitched several times at the coldness of it, she coated it with her lubrication.

His heart raced, watching this dirty sight.

Anymore of that, and he’d shove the neck inside her.

Instead, he took the bottle to his tongue, washed the outside clean of her inherently sexy flavor, then he dribbled the cool liquid over each breast, gave her a sip.

“Open—I want you to taste it. Don’t swallow unless I put my come in there as well,” he said. He poured some in, then lapped at the wine in her gaping mouth.

She was struggling to keep it in there and keep upright. Since he was about ready to burst, he pulled away, took a big swig, then set the bottle down. Her head jerked toward the sound, and some of the fluid sloshed out of her mouth and down her chin.

He licked it off her face, then oh, good God, yes!

She was tight; so good.

He was inside her, nailing her against the cage, making the bars rattle.

When he removed her blindfold, her eyes were dazed. She’d swallowed down the wine in her fogginess.

“I love you,” she cooed softly a moment later.

“I know you do,” he replied like a total prick. He grinned.

He removed her restraints, kissed her wrists and then his chest flooded with so much devotion, he couldn’t bear it any longer.

His arms went around her, and he pulled out, tucked his cock away, then hauled her out the back of the cage.

There were boos and jeers flung his way.

But his wife said she wanted to be fucked in private tonight.

He was only using that as foreplay for both of them.

She needed him to go nuts, begged him to do the cage tonight. Her words had been, “You need this, hon. I can tell. The cage, and don’t tell me no again, you stupid asshole.”

That was all it took.

She was right.

“It was rough for you—sorry, sweetheart,” he said, carrying her through the hallway into their own private dungeon room without windows.

She was limp in his arms. “I loved every second.”

“Good. I’ll have to remember that the next time I pick you out of the crowd. I did
not
like this wig, just so you know. Don’t wear this fucking thing again.” He pulled it off and chucked it on the ground.

Her naturally auburn, long curly hair fell down around her shoulders. He fisted it automatically and backed her up to the bed.

How many times would he have to do this kind of thing to stop imagining the horrors they went through in their cages at Hannah’s house of torture?

It would strike him at odd intervals. Therapy was good today, though.

He tore off her bra and that small, sexy skirt of hers. His jeans were yanked off right after, along with his boxer briefs.

The moment he penetrated her, she rasped a throaty, “Kel, God, you’re so big tonight—you were so hot for me.”

Her head hung off the edge of the bed.

His fingers found her nipples, tugged to the rhythm of his pumping hips.

“It’s not gonna take me long, bitch. You better get there quick. I’m not waiting,” he warned, his jaw flexing along with his hips.

She was burning him all over his body, but less than normal, so he didn’t care. He fucking loved it.

Shoulda brought that wine bottle with him.

Like clockwork, she reached on the ground past her head, found the bucket of ice she always had in here, ready to go, and grabbed an ice cube.

She ran it over his shoulders.

He extended his tongue, and she let it roam there, too.

He used his icy tongue to wet her nipples one at a time, and when his chest went over them, he grinned wickedly.

“Feel good?” she asked.

“Fucking amazing.” He bit at her neck, and she convulsed right then, her pussy rippling along his cock.

He felt the first rushes of her squirting cunt, drenching his thighs, and his come launched out of him in spastic spurts.

“God, you’re mine! Finally!” He gripped her at the hips and rammed himself in as far as he could go while he emptied into her with little jabs of torturous bliss.

When his heart slowed and his hands went lax, she smiled and sighed.

“We’ve been married for almost a year, silly.”

“I know, but this is when you’re all mine. Not out helping save every broken kid you can find.” He kissed her gently; settled his weight onto her.