The Plume: The Second Anthology (33 page)

“Take the rest off your glove.”

She did as instructed, her sex throbbing with
an intensity that made her dizzy. Her corset seemed tighter than it
had before and when she sat back, its front point touched her
genitals and nearly made her come.

She would come if Mike touched her.

“Nice,” Eric said. “Now these are for you.”
He handed her a pair of sunglasses and Joanna was confused enough
to hesitate. There was velvet padding on the inside of the frames,
although she hadn’t been able to see it until she held them in her
hand. Eric’s voice roughened. “Put them on, Joanna.”

She put on the sunglasses and gasped. The
lenses were blacked out completely and the velvet padding on the
insides of the frames blocked her peripheral vision completely.

She might as well have been blindfolded.

Except no one looking at her would guess the
truth.

Her heart skipped a beat and she felt that
pulse resonate in her sex.

“Now, you can’t see where you’re going,” Eric
said conversationally. “Why don’t you surrender to us, Joanna?”

Her mouth opened and closed.

“Do you have a question, Joanna?”

“I thought we were just going to see
the...the place, Master Eric.”

“We are, Joanna, but that’s not what I asked
you.”

Joanna licked her lips, reminding herself
that Mike wanted this. “I surrender to Master Mike and Master
Eric,” she said.

“To be our captive sex slave,” Eric
added.

“To be your captive sex slave.”

“To be completely submissive from this day
forward.”

“To be completely submissive from this day
forward.”

“To be used and given and shared on our
demand.”

Joanna swallowed. “To be used and given and
shared on your demand.”

“For so long as either or both of us see
fit.”

“For so long as either or both of you see
fit.” Joanna repeated this last bit in a breathless voice, unable
to believe what she was confessing. When Eric stopped, she was glad
to have gotten through it, incredulous and excited.

Then Mike made it more intense.

“You should make her beg us for it,” Mike
said, his tone hard. “If she really wants it, she should have to
convince us.”

Eric laughed. “Oh, that’s brilliant. Go on,
Joanna, beg for it.” Joanna heard Eric turn in his seat and knew
Mike was watching her in the rear view mirror. “Make us an offer we
can’t refuse.”

* * *

Rex’s pulse was slow and his breathing was
steady. His mind was completely relaxed. There was only the slight
sensation of Leya’s brush sliding across his skin in a regular
rhythm. He breathed as she had commanded and otherwise, the studio
was silent. He could smell the beeswax of the candles and the paint
she used.

He was almost dozing when her brush stopped
and didn’t return. He was vaguely aware that she had moved away,
then heard her return. The sound of her heels on the hardwood floor
was unmistakable and he remembered how her feet arched in those
gold sandals. There was a warmth to her scent when she paused
beside him, a hint of her arousal that fed his awakening
desire.

Even though he knew what she was doing and
might have fought it, his body responded instinctively. She’d
relaxed him and now she was bringing him back to the moment,
intending to excite him as she bound him.

That last realization changed everything. She
was going to bind him. It was her turn. Leya meant to keep him in
the dark, too. Adrenaline shot through Rex’s body. He kept his eyes
closed with an effort, fighting to maintain his tranquil state of
mind.

“Keep your eyes closed,” she instructed
softly as Rex felt that quiver resonate deep in his gut. There were
people who were soothed by blindfolds, people who surrendered when
they couldn’t see. There were others, like Rex, who found it too
much, who found it overwhelming evidence of the lack of
control.

But he wasn’t blindfolded. He was keeping his
eyes closed by choice.

Rex steadied himself. Leya knew what she was
asking him to do. She knew what it meant to him. He knew that she
understood him as well as anyone ever had, because of that
similarity in their thinking. He needed to get past this fear, and
his trust meant that she was the perfect person to help him do
so.

Rex knew all of that logically, but still
something deep inside him urged him to run. He fought that urge and
stayed put, trembling slightly.

“Very good,” Leya said quietly and he felt
perversely proud of himself. “Stand up now and I’ll remove your
jeans.”

Rex did as he was told, dazzled by a
delicious tingle of anticipation. Could he enjoy this? Leya removed
his jeans with unhurried gestures, taking his hand to guide him as
he stepped out of them. He felt everything keenly with his eyes
closed: the weight of her hand in his, the scent of her wet sex,
the throb of his growing erection. She was smaller than him. More
feminine. She couldn’t overpower him.

And he was participating by choice.

Leya posed him then, his hands behind his
back just as he had posed her briefly in the shower. Rex’s breath
came more quickly as he feared the next step, but she ran her hands
over him. It was a soothing gesture, one he’d made himself a
thousand times, and it worked. Some of the tension went out of him
with a shudder.

She kissed his shoulder as if in reward, then
moved away again.

Rex held his ground, even as the moment
became more electric for him.

He wasn’t really surprised to feel the jute
rope on his skin, but he had to fight the desire to bolt. Leya
wound it around his elbow, slowly, leaving him time to run. Rex
didn’t. She then stretched it across his back to his other elbow.
She brought the ends together and tied a knot, one that rested
directly over his spine. Rex could see it in his mind’s eye,
guessed the kind of knot she made by the movement of the rope, and
knew it would look good.

“Breathe,” she commanded quietly. He took a
deep breath and exhaled.

“And again.” Repeat after me. “You are safe.
You are in my trust.”

He followed her order, finding that place in
his mind that balanced the thrill and the tranquility. Even the
ritualistic nature of the words soothed him. Maybe that was why
they soothed him. It was easier to bear when she wrapped his arms
again, making another row of rope immediately below the first one,
repeating the knot.

“The knots run down your spine, to echo the
line of the vertebrae,” she told him and he wanted to nod
agreement. “It’s elegant and effective.”

At the touch of her fingertip on his
shoulder, Rex tested the strength of the bonds. The knots held, his
elbows could not be pulled apart.

His erection grew harder.

“Safe,” she said and he echoed the word.

Better, he began to believe it.

There were six rounds of rope binding his
elbows when she was done. Rex could imagine how it would look. She
began to bind his forearms together then, working from wrist to
wrist with leisurely ease. He liked that she worked slowly, because
it heightened the excitement in steady increments. It gave him time
to choose to remain complacent. Binding slowly increased his sense
of complicity, thrilled him beyond belief.

And Leya knew it, because she thought the
same way. He felt the knots she made along the outside of his
forearms, decorative knots that would accent the quantity of rope
used to constrain him. His arms were tied and he was
constricted.

Rex thought she might be done, that this
might be a good test. When she passed the ends of rope around his
waist and knotted it firmly over his navel, his eyes flew open in
surprise. Leya stood before him, nude except for those sandals.

“Shh,” she whispered with a smile, touching
her fingertips to his lips. “Don’t peek yet. I’m still making you
beautiful.”

Rex felt his breath hitching in his chest,
but he wanted to please her.

“You are safe in my care,” she assured him.
“Say it.”

“I am safe in your care.” Again, the tide of
relief passed through him. He didn’t want her to stop, it was too
wonderful.

Rex closed his eyes again and she murmured a
word of praise. That thrilled him even more, intensifying the
moment.

The rope went around his torso six, eight,
ten times, knotted at the front each time. Finally he was encased
up to his nipples, his cock throbbing so hard that it hurt.

“Very nice,” Leya said. He felt her stretch
to her toes, felt her breasts touch his chest. Then her lips were
on his, a fleeting caress that only left him hungry for more.
“You’ve been very good. Now open your eyes and admire yourself
before I reward you.”

Rex’s eyes opened and he didn’t immediately
recognize himself in the mirror. The light was flickering gold all
around from the candles, and he was gold, as well. He saw the bonds
of the rope surrounding his body, encasing him so securely and so
beautifully. The knots weren’t the ones he had anticipated, but
more elaborate ones that stood out from the coils of rope in
beautiful contrast. His shoulders were slightly pumped, his body
straining intuitively against the rope. His cock was hard and
huge.

But she had painted gold feathers all over
his shoulders and upper arms. The brush strokes were heavy, like
that of Japanese calligraphy, each one elegantly evoking the eye of
a peacock’s tail.

At his awe, Leya got a mirror, holding it so
he could see his back. Rex knew he had never been so beautifully
adorned.

“Why feathers?”

“Because the Plume is you and you are the
Plume.” She smiled, all mystery and marvel, and Rex’s throat was
tight. “One lives in the other and always will.”

Rex didn’t know what to say to that.

“You should take a picture,” he suggested.
“It’s incredible.”

“The picture will live here,” Leya said,
tapping her temple, “for as long as I do.” She reached out and
touched his temple. “And it will reside there, a slightly different
version. Those are the only places it needs to be.”

“Our secret,” Rex whispered. The studio
seemed to incredibly intimate as he stared into her eyes, a private
corner locked away from the world. There was only Leya and her
artistry, the dozen flickering candles, the sunlight streaming
through the windows to gild it all like the treasury it was.

“Our pleasure,” she corrected with a smile.
“Not everything needs to be shared with the world.”

Rex felt his chest constrict with an emotion
he couldn’t name. His gaze was drawn back to the mirror, back to
the splendid sight she had made of him. Leya turned him so that he
was facing his own reflection but he watched her in the glass,
watched her feet flex as she walk, watched her breasts sway,
watched the quick glance she shot up at him.

And so he was treated to the whole visual
feast as she dropped to her knees before him and took his cock into
her mouth. He gasped, but she caught his pelvis in his hands,
holding him in position with surprising strength.

His reward. Was it to be the orgasm or the
chance to watch? Rex didn’t know and he didn’t care. He watched
Leya move, loved the curve of her butt, the sight of her feet in
those sandals, the look of her full lips locked around him, the
feel of her tongue against his cock. He looked at himself, both
alien and familiar. He braced against the floor and savored every
detail—because she had orchestrated this gift for him, and he was
determined to make it last.

* * *

Joanna had begged and she had groveled. She
had insisted, and she had pleaded with them. Mike couldn’t believe
it. This was really what she wanted. It took them forty-five
minutes to drive to the secret location—although they did drive in
some circles, just to make Joanna believe it was farther away—and
the car was filled with the sound of her breathless pleas the
entire time.

Her voice was husky. It rose and fell, as if
she was amazed by herself, as if she was astonished to be making
such a bold request. As if she was giving voice to a secret
fantasy, one that only Eric had been able to convince her to
express. Because her voice became stronger as she continued and
Mike knew Joanna well enough to recognize that she was voicing her
heartfelt desire.

He wished she had been making the request
just to him.

He wished he had left this one fantasy
unfulfilled.

But it was too late for second thoughts.

They arrived at an expensive condominium
tower that was actually pretty close to Mike’s townhouse. He knew
he could see the building from his living room window. Eric
gestured toward the entrance to the underground parking lot.

“Pull down your skirt, Joanna,” Eric
commanded. “And leave your sunglasses on.”

“Yes, Master Eric.”

Master Eric. She was just as happy to agree
to Master Eric’s demands as she was to his own. Mike didn’t like it
one bit.

At some point, she’d protest. He was sure of
it.

Eric produced a key card when Mike pulled
into the drive and Mike inserted it in the lock. The garage door
opened and Mike drove into the relative darkness, following Eric’s
gestures to a numbered spot. There were no cars parked close to
them.

Eric swung out of the car, then opened the
door for Joanna. “Time for fantasies to become reality,” he said to
her and she unfastened her seat belt, sliding across the seat to
take his hand. She swung her legs out and got out of the car,
leaning on Eric a bit as he steadied her. He caught Mike’s gaze and
rolled his eyes appreciatively.

When he shut the door, Mike locked the car.
Eric put his arm around Joanna as if they were simply walking
together. Mike was concerned she’d trip, walking blind like this.
He went to her other side. “Put your hand in my elbow,” he said and
was rewarded by a small smile.