Untitled (4 page)

    He picked up the quirt at his side and stood above her slumped body.

    "On your knees."

    She refused, of course, and the quirt came down hard against her shoulders.

    "On your knees," he repeated. There was no need to raise his voice. She'd obey him, eventually, and he honestly had all day to break her down.

    The quirt came down again and again after every ignored command, until she finally moved to her hands and knees again, hanging her head as if in defeat. Although, she might have looked resigned, he knew otherwise. Her back was scorched with a vine of intersecting lines where the quirt did its damage. He could feel the rage in her quivering form, in the way her muscles tensed and relaxed, in the way she breathed deliberately. Passion boiled within her and they'd just begun.

    Victory pumped through his veins as he savored the conquest; his cock roared, agitated and needy. He'd jack off later to ease the building pressure, since it was not yet time to use her. That would come soon, a day or two, maybe a week, depending on how long it took to seduce her. But she would be seduced.

Her mind staggered from thought to thought, from processing the pain of the fiery quirt and the cutting cane to the anger that festered unchecked, which threatened to drive her mad. Maybe the unremitting blows prevented the madness from taking hold. That thought crossed her mind but didn't have time to settle before another swift cut of his tool delivered its white hot torment.

    Did she have no choice but to give in and let him have his way?

    "Time to strip, Ms. Bloom. Take off the clothes."

    How she managed to keep them on this long was a mystery, and though they were scant comfort, they had kept some of her flesh from his examining eyes.

    "And if I don't strip?"

    "But you will strip for me. Just as you moved to your hands and knees and crawled for me, and peed on the newspaper for me. You'll do anything I ask. In case you didn't get the gist of this venture before, let's listen carefully now. I have all the time in the world and all the patience I need to force your surrender. If you fight my every command, I'll fight right back with more pain and more humiliation, until you finally submit. If you don't learn it now, you will in a day from now or year down the road. It really makes no difference to me. I have a strong investment in your slavery, and I will win. I know that. If you don't strip for me today, I'll try again tomorrow, if not then, I'll keep coming back every day. But you can be certain of one thing: your life will exist of no more than what you know now – this room, the blindfold, the cage, and these painful training sessions – that's all you'll know until you do as you're told."

    "You are mad!" she screamed, attacking with such fervor that his bones seemed to vibrate in shock. He waited until the feeling passed, then said, simply:

    "Maybe so."

    "You're a raging lunatic," her voice climbed in pitch.

    He laughed. "Sounds more like you're the raging lunatic."

    She fumed on and for a long while, she didn't move or speak. She heard him near, imagining that he was sitting in a chair a few feet away – which he was – staring at her fuming angst.

    Soon, she sat back, kneeling still, her sore ass resting on her feet, her hands limply at her side, her knees wide. The short skirt rode up so high that her entire pussy was exposed, while her breasts bulged from the halter and her nipples poked through the heavy fabric. So what was the need to rebel about? What could he do to her that hadn't been done to her before? She was a pain junky, and her burning rump and burning back were starting to work on her physical body like a pair of massaging hands toying with her crotch.

    Was he a mind reader? Or did he just know what turned a masochist into a slave?

    Something – probably the tip of his cane – began to work its way under the skirt and dance about her wet and throbbing pussy. Teasingly. Like a single finger, inched its way into the furrow until he finally withdrew.

    "A little reminder, Ms. Bloom, just in case you forgot what this was all about," he explained.

    "So why don't you just fuck me? That's what you want." She attempted with little success to fend off the sudden erotic glut that caused her pussy flesh to throb. She breathed in, seething.

    "You are too easy." His laughter filled her head.

    If only she could see his face, she'd know what kind of man he was. She'd understand him better. And what if she did lay her eyes on him, and he turned out to be some loathsome wimp, or a bug-eyed jerk, or a backwoods bully? What then?

    "Time to strip, Kat, in case you forgot what I'm waiting for. Time to see those hot knockers with the hard fat nips, those bodacious boobs, them purdy tits you've got hidden just enough inside that halter to keep me guessing. "

    "God, you're gross," she moaned.

    "Am I? Maybe I am gross. Maybe I'm nothing but one of those simpering fools at the club you discard with such ease. Some pimply-faced nobody who got lucky last night when he found you hanging all by your lonesome. Wouldn't that be your bad luck to spend eternity with a man you could only despise? Then again – what if I turn out to be a really smart-looking dude like the kind of dark fiend you thrive on? You might be lucky, or not."

    The cane reached in along the side of the halter trying to pull it aside.

    "But let's get back to the matter of your clothes. It's time, Kat. Discussion's over. Take them off now, or I string you up by your heels and let you dangle while I whip those clothes right off your body. What's it going to be?"

    The tip of the cane moved down and resumed its gentle journey along the secret passageways of her crotch. Her needy body suffered and her mind still rebelled, but her better instincts prevailed. The halter came off, the skirt slipped over her ass and down her legs, and the stockings, which must have been torn to shreds by now, were peeled from her skin. Maybe it was a relief to let him have his way. Maybe this was what it felt like to be submissive to a man. In all her nights at the club, through all the scenes of bondage and pain she'd gladly suffered, she'd never felt quite like this. She'd never been this far under a man's control.

    Her hot naked body relished the feel of the cool air on her skin, and shivered as she felt him eyeing each exposed body part.

    He moved closer now, drawing her arms behind her back and tying her wrists together with a length of thick rope. She trembled with him so frightfully close, her body quickening at the touch of his hands against her skin.

    Once her wrists were secure, he ran a finger over her lips, which unwittingly parted to communicate her increasing arousal. When his hand dropped deep into the valley between her thighs, she shuddered, her belly brutally spasming.

    "You could come so easily," he whispered in her ear. "It wouldn't take much, would it?"

    His finger journeyed where the cane had gone, slipping between her labia and pressing hard against her throbbing clitoris.

    She gasped, her mouth opening wide.

    "See, Ms. Bloom, being my slave is really very easy."

    She instinctively cringed to hear him talk that way, but her teeming energy did nothing to dissuade her thirsting body from responding.

    "Hungry?" he asked. "Hum? You hungry?"

    Hungry? What did that mean? "I don't know what to be hungry for."

    "How about this? Take a bite." He pressed something cool against her lips.

    She smelled the fragrance of the plum before her teeth sank into its flesh. The juice ran down her lip, dripping from her chin to her naked thighs, while she chewed the soft fruit and it slowly slid down her throat. Another bite followed and then another until her captor drew his hand and the half-finished plum away. She wanted more. But when his hand returned, his fingers were empty, and the same one traced another line along her lip before it moved inside her mouth.

    She sucked, laving it as she laved so many cocks, her horny mind wishing that it was a cock, even his cock, her captor's cock.

    "Kiss me," he said. His whispering voice was breathless and soft against her cheek. His face close to hers, his lips close enough to touch, and when the two came together, she didn't resist. She liked his smell, the fragrance of plums had lingered on the hand that caressed her cheek, and on his face she detected a masculine aroma she recognized and loved.

    The kiss broadened, their lips opening wide, their tongues just beginning to dance together, when he abruptly pulled away.

    "But—" she softly protested.

    One solitary finger was pressed against her lips to silence her protest.

    "Hush. Back in your cage. You've had enough for now."

S
CENE
F
IVE

The doorbell rang in the middle of their voracious foreplay. Alain groaned. "My God, what now?"

    "You'd better answer," Janis remarked, pulling away from his embrace. "We have all night, besides, I think I need a little break." She stood up and righted her clothes, shaking out her tousled hair.

    "I don't need a break at all," he gruffly rebuked. "We just started. I'm not even undressed."

    "Which will make your appearance at the door presentable," she smoothed his hair back, "I'll be upstairs waiting."

    While Janis darted stealthily from the room, Alain pulled off the leather couch and moved toward the door to the sound of the doorbell ringing yet again. Answering, he stared into the early evening at the unexpected sight of Meredith Shaw, lovely as ever, shivering on his doorstep.

    He adjusted his glasses as if he wasn't seeing clearly. "Miss Shaw, what are you doing here?"

    "Hello, sir. I need to see you, sir. If I could come in, please?"

    "I'm afraid I'm otherwise occupied at the moment."

    "But I really
have
to see you. It's urgent! Please, sir. It'll only take a minute."

    His better judgment must have flown right out the window, but he relented to the girl's appeal and allowed her inside, ushering Meredith Shaw into his den, where she removed her coat and stood by the fire warming her hands. He would have preferred to speak with her in the less intimate living room but was afraid that the telltale signs of his tryst with Janis would be obvious to any inquisitive eye. "So, what is this about?" Alain asked, tersely, and the girl turned around. The poor thing was shivering cold.

    Meredith immediately sensed her boss's irritation. "I really am sorry to bother you."

    "You do realize that your being here is most inappropriate?"

    She looked back at him a little stunned, "It is?"

    "If not inappropriate, it's certainly irregular."

    "That's because what I have to talk about would be less appropriate at the station."

    "Well then, go on."

    He remained standing, with the full intention of making quick work of whatever matter was on the girl's mind. Unfortunately, that was not as easy as he planned.

    She started most deliberately, almost as if she'd rehearsed the speech – at least to some degree. "I'm aware, sir, that we share…that we share," she stopped, too frightened to go on. Nervously biting her lip, her eyes looked in every direction but straight ahead, before finally coming back to rest on Alain's puzzled face. She gulped and tried again. "I'm aware, sir, after last Saturday night that you…are…a
dominant,"
much emphasis on the word, "as in bdsm lifestyle dominant."

    "What? Who told you that?"

    "No one needed to tell me, sir. I could feel it – the way you took on the Club and in your exchanges with Mistress Ana. And then I asked her outright."

    "And what did she say?"

    "She didn't actually confirm the fact, not exactly, but she might as well have."

    "So, what did she say?"

    "She said 'Alain has been known to share my favorite predilection'. That's all she said, but wasn't it enough?"

    He ran his hand through his greying hair, and sighed. "Well, I'm sorry that she implied anything. What I do in my private life needs to stay private, Miss Shaw. I have no reason to discuss it with you."

    The girl appeared crestfallen at this news, but only for a moment. Taking a breath, she pressed on, rushing through the next tangled monologue, until she had no breath at all left. "Sir, I'm looking for a dominant, a man, the right man. And I have to confess that I look at you every day and dream about the possibilities, that if only…" she sighed heavily, "you know what I mean…what goes on at the X-Club… I was certain that you wouldn't be into anything like that, I just couldn't imagine…but then when I found out that you were, I was so overjoyed. Last week, working together as we have on the case, I've been simmering inside and I can't keep my feelings to myself any longer. I had to come here…I had to ask…I know this is silly, but I simply had to—"