Authors: Anne O'Connell
Ted’s hair was thinning and he
looked like he was in desperate need of food he was so thin. He leaned forward
and took the folder, immediately examining the contents. “If she changed her
name I could easily find that out. It would be a matter of public record. So my
question is, what, exactly are you looking for?”
“Her real name, where she went to
school, criminal records, that sort of thing.” Another pang of guilt gripped
his stomach, but he ignored it. Too bad. Kali had her chance to tell him what
he wanted to know.
“That’s easy enough,” Ted said
again. “I do stuff like this all the time, Mr. Hudak.”
Brad smiled at Ted’s formal use of
his surname. “Call me Brad, Ted.” He took the envelope with the retainer check
in it and slid it across the desk to Ted. “My card’s in there so you can call
or email me if and when you find anything.”
“You got it.” Ted took the envelope
and slipped it inside the folder then stood and shook Brad’s hand again. “I
should have something by the end of the week.”
With that, Brad left, got into his
car and headed to
By the Book
just to check in with Eric and Amy before
heading back home. The entire time his stomach twisted with the agony of moral
dilemma. Maybe Kali was right. Maybe it was better to live for now and leave
well enough alone. Yet Brad’s driving need to know and his desire for the truth
were too strong and by the time he reached the bookstore he had once again
convinced himself he did the right thing in retaining Ted Agares.
***
He’d likely tortured her long
enough. Since nothing was happening at the bookstore Brad headed back home,
wondering if he’d catch Kali out of her restraints, trying desperately to get
back into them. He smiled at the thought. Of course there was the matter of
her mockery of his restraint system, but then he wondered if that was at all
fair. He’d been trying to find a reason to introduce her to his new stockade
for about a month now, but every time he suggested it as punishment, Kali
straightened up immediately and submitted.
But you don’t need a reason to
take her down there and put her in it
, he reminded himself. After all, he
was the Dom and she was the sub. It was his pleasure to do to her as he pleased
provided she was consenting. Kali’s limit list was very specific in what she
would allow and what she wouldn’t. Nothing on that list said
no stockades
.
Of course he wondered if having her restrained at the neck might trigger a
claustrophobic response. It did in some people.
Much to his own chagrin, when he
arrived home he found Kali in the same place he’d left her. The restraints
hadn’t been messed with. He began undoing the rope. “You really have no desire
to meet my stockade, do you?”
Kali lifted an eyebrow. “No, Sir.
Not really, no.”
“Any reason why?” He removed the
rope completely and tossed it on the dresser.
She paused as if thinking how to
phrase it. “I’m not fond of being naked in a basement. Maybe if you put it in
the dungeon…”
He laughed, undoing the wrist
cuffs. “So it’s a location thing?”
“Yes, Sir.” She fought back a
smile.
“I see.” He chuckled again. “You
don’t like basements?”
“No, or the things that live in
them,” she admitted.
He shrugged. “Nothing lives in my
basement. I keep it rather clean. I don’t care for dirt or spiders either. If
you haven’t noticed, I’m somewhat OCD like that.”
She seemed to consider this for a
moment then relented. “True.”
Taking her by the hand he helped
her off the bed. “You need to use the facilities?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Alright go. Then right back here
when you’re done,” he said, watching her slip into the bathroom. He waited
patiently while she finished and when she was done, he led her to the basement
door.
She bulked.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can I at least wear shoes?”
“Do you have a sexy pair of black
heels?” He knew she didn’t.
“Not with me,” she stopped
mid-sentence and groaned. Her tone had not been that of an obedient sub, but
rather an annoyed girlfriend.
“Now see, you have earned a trip to
the stockade, at least for an open handed spanking.” A slow grin spread across
his lips.
She took a deep breath as if
resolving to do something horrifying. “Yes, Sir.”
Shaking his head, he opened the
door and turned on the light. He thought about sending her first, forcing her
to face her fear, but thought better of it. If she was genuinely afraid it
would likely be more comforting to lead her into the fear, shedding light onto
it, so that she realized there was nothing to be scared of. Starting down the
stairs he said, “Follow me.”
He didn’t look back to see if she
was following, he knew she was. He also knew she was moving slowly, probably
measuring every step to make sure she didn’t step on any spiders. While he was
pretty sure the basement wasn’t full of the eight-legged insects, it was quite
possible there’d be one or two, but no more than any other room in the house.
With that in mind he scanned the floors and walls just in case. When he reached
the bottom of the stairs he waited for her and continued scanning the room. It
was just as clean as it had been the day before when he came down to get
something out of the storage room. That room was clean, too. Directly in front
of him stood the stockade. He also had ropes and pulleys for suspension down
here as well, but he’d never used them.
She finally stood alongside him and
looked at the stockade. He couldn’t read her face. She was intentionally hiding
her feelings on this one. Her gaze dropped to the square of carpet directly
beneath the device.
Kali took a step
forward, inspecting the stockade and its smooth finish. It was just the right
height, he noticed.
"So what do you
think?" he asked.
She shrugged. "The
basement is cleaner than I expected."
"What did you
expect?"
Throwing her hands up
she said, "Honestly, I was imagining a real cellar with at least a partial
dirt floor, cobwebs everywhere, and spiders and insects. Like my grandma's
basement."
He perked up. A clue to
her mysterious past? He decided to press further. "Your grandmother wasn't
much of a housekeeper?"
"Back in those
days the cellar was used to store tools and vegetables," she said
matter-of-fact. "But my grandparents sold the house when I was seven and
they were both dead within two years after that."
"I take it you had
a bad experience in that basement?" Brad looked her over. He decided not
to push about her grandparents, not yet.
"I had a nasty
cousin who locked me down there once," she confessed.
He narrowed his eyes
knowing his next questions, if phrased carefully, would be answered.
"Well, I guess cousin rivalry is almost like sibling rivalry."
She walked over to the
square of carpet. Reaching out, she ran her hand over the side of the stockade.
"My cousin was an ass. I only saw him a few times after that. Mostly
funerals. Haven't seen him since, but yeah, he was an ass."
"Sorry to hear
about your grandparents," he said carefully.
She shrugged again.
"People die. I wasn't that close to them. We just went for a visit every
few years in the summer."
The topic was certainly
a downer and he realized it had really killed the mood for any plans he might
have had for his new toy.
Kali whirled around
then and looked him square in the eye. "So why is this down here instead
of up in your dungeon room?"
"Oh, umm, thought
it would be more isolated down here. Seemed a logical choice. Plus there's more
room and I have some pulleys and suspension equipment down here. It works
better down here because of the beams." He pointed to the unfinished
ceiling, which he dusted regularly.
A sigh escaped her
lips. "That's a clean unfinished ceiling," she said. A small smile
danced on her lips.
"Are you mocking
me?" he asked, the mood returning.
"No, Sir. I'm
mocking your OCD." She bit her lip. That comment was purposeful and he was
pretty sure it meant she wanted to play.
He narrowed his eyes,
pleased with the game and also in the mood for it. “How about we try this on
for size? I’ve been fantasizing about putting you in it for weeks now.”
Pulling out the pins,
he lifted the top up so she could put her wrists and neck in the cutouts. She
willingly did this, but with some trepidation. The fact remained that Kali was
beginning to slowly trust him. It was small steps like this that told him he
was making some headway. It just wasn’t as fast as he wanted. He gently put the
top plank back on and re-secured the pins, locking the stockade in place. She
was adequately bent over and subdued for his liking.
With a smirk he
remembered seeing something inside the storage room earlier that week that
would take care of Kali quite nicely. He strode across the room to the storage
room and grabbed a small riding crop from just inside the door. He smacked it
across his hand. It would have to do since he forgot to grab a cane when he
came down and for some reason, using his hand just didn’t sound nearly as
enticing.
Kali had adjusted
herself to the most comfortable position possible. Well, as comfortable as one
could get in such a device.
Brad gripped the crop
and brought the flat end squarely on her left butt cheek. She yelped and
jumped. He did it again and again, enjoying how the red marks rose on her ass.
He ran his hand over
her ass again, then gave her a good smack, noting how he loved how the curve of
her ass met the silky skin of her upper thighs. He could feel his arousal for
her grow in his pants. “Spread your legs wider,” he ordered.
She carefully stepped
apart her legs, again trying to find some good position that wasn’t completely
uncomfortable.
Brad smiled and
unsheathed his penis. He slipped his hand between her legs to make sure she was
as wet as he thought she was. She was. He pressed the head of his swollen
member against the precipice of her vagina. He pressed in, feeling her flesh
fold around him, taking him in. Closing his eyes he firmly held her hips and
submerged himself in her depths, enjoying the moans of pleasure escaping her.
He quickened his
thrusts until he developed a steady rhythm. When he felt his release quicken,
he didn’t hold back. Instead, he plunged himself into her as deep as he could
and allowed the orgasm to overtake him. Groaning, he held her hips to him. He
pulled out and smacked her ass and said, “You can stay here. I’ll be back in a while.”
With that he retreated
up the stairs and took his time getting cleaned up. He ordered from the Italian
restaurant that delivered, set the table and opened a bottle of wine. Only then
did he go back into the basement to get her. He wasn’t prepared for what he
found. Kali was crying and in a panic. His first reaction was to look around
for spiders, but upon seeing nothing, he lifted the top bar from the stockade
and watched in horror as Kali crumbled to the floor in a ball, shaking.
Falling down beside her he scooped her into his arms. “Oh baby, come here.” He
kissed her forehead and then checked over her body to make sure she wasn’t
hurt.
She clutched at him,
still sobbing.
Something had triggered
the reaction and he intended to find out what. Picking her up, he carried her
up the stairs to the bedroom and gently set her on the bed. “It’s okay,” he
assured her.
It took about fifteen
minutes before she was calm enough to speak.
He gave her a glass of
water. “So tell me what happened.”
“I just felt
claustrophobic,” she said, now sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I’ll be careful not to
leave you alone down there again.” He brushed a strand of auburn hair off of
her cheek. “How about you get cleaned up and dressed. Dinner should be here
soon. Italian?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He got up and went into
the kitchen. She had mentioned that she was claustrophobic when they first
started and he had seen claustrophobic subs react similarly to rope bondage.
But somewhere deep down he had a nagging feeling. It was the same kind of
feeling he had when he was in Iraq in one of many situations under threat of
ambush. On the battle field, when something didn’t feel right, you listened to
those instincts and proceeded with caution. That’s what he had to do now —
proceed with caution.