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Claiming Him

By: SweetSacrifice



**Author's note: My Master ordered me to write a FemDom story, and I've never written anything like that before. If it's not up to par, I would appreciate any feedback to make it better in case I write more like this in the future!**




She had made plans with him earlier that week, soon after she started talking to him, and she knew exactly what he needed after talking to him: a good Domming. Luckily for him, that sort of thing was exactly what she was good at.

She smirked to herself as she started getting ready. Her full-length mirror showed her exactly what she loved seeing every day. She first put on her favorite corset and laced it up tightly, loving how the deep plum-colored latex contrasted so beautifully with her flawless alabaster skin and pushed her 44D breasts almost up to her chin. She next slipped on matching crotchless panties made of the same plum color but in satin, followed by black thigh-high boots that made her endlessly long legs look even longer and made her five inches taller. She needed the height help as she was only 5'8" and her new male 'friend' was closer to 6'2".

She left her wild mass of auburn curls loose and left her makeup simple - volumizing mascara to make her green eyes more piercing, a little highlighter to add contour to her face to give her presence a noticeable impact on him, and lipstick that was a shade or two lighter than her corset. She looked damn good, and she knew it, too.

By the time she finished getting ready, she heard the doorbell ring and smiled to herself, both because she knew she wasn't going to do much more smiling, and because there was going to be a lot of fun to be had that night.

She grabbed a collar that looked like a men's necklace from her closet before closing it and locking it. She hid the key and took a deep breath, exhaling and letting go of her daily self to snap immediately into Domme mode before going to the door. She opened it to see him standing there, looking somewhat relaxed before he saw the look on her face. He went rigid and almost dropped the small duffel bag he was carrying.

"Get inside, NOW." she barked, and he immediately complied and stood still as she closed the door behind him.

"Strip naked, boy, and put all of your belongings into the bag you brought, then get on your knees. While you are here, you will address me as Mistress. Do I make myself clear?" He started obeying before she finished speaking, moving swiftly yet somewhat shakily.

"Yes Mistress." He spoke without missing a beat as he sunk to his knees, his bag full of his things closed and sitting beside him.

"Good boy." She almost smiled, then spoke again. "Now, present your bag to me the way a slave boy should." He placed his hands on the floor in front of him and turned his body so that he could grab one of the handles of the closed bag between his teeth. He grunted softly as he held it there and turned so that his body was facing her, keeping his body close to the floor and keeping the bag a few inches from the ground.

"Good boy." She knelt to pat his head and and take the bag from him, then she turned around. "Stay." she ordered as she went into her bathroom, unlocked her closet, put his bag in it, and locked it again, then she walked back out to the foyer where she saw him in in exactly the same position she had left him in. She stopped directly in front of him and lifted her right foot and used it to push his head down to the ground. He didn't protest, and he quickly turned his face to look at her left foot.

"I am going to tell you the rules you are to obey while you are here, and after I state each one, you are to say 'Yes Mistress' then kiss my boot. Show me that you understand."

"Yes Mistress" his voice quavered slightly as he spoke, then he placed a light kiss on the toe of her boot. She voiced her approval, then she stated each rule. After each one was said, she didn't have to wait long before he answered in the way she told him to. SHe kept her foot firmly on his head while she spoke, and when she finished, she brought her foot down and positioned herself so that one foot was either side of his head.

"Turn over onto your back, slave." He obeyed, and it was immediately apparent how hard his cock was. Her jaw dropped as she saw just how big it was - nine inches long and at least two or three inches in diameter. With her being above him the way she was, she knew he couldn't see her face, and she was glad for that. Before she could change her plans for him, she bent low and fastened the collar around his neck.

"Now, slave, lick my pussy until I cum all over your face. If you do a good job, I won't whip your cock." Nod if you understand, do not speak." His eyes widened in fear as he nodded so quickly she thought his head was going to pop off. Without another word, she lowered herself onto his face, the look of fear, desire, and pure submission in his eyes making her throb and ache with need. She ground herself hard against his face, smearing it with her juices. She rode his face until she had an intense shaking orgasm, feeling his tongue lick and flick and slide along her most sensitive areas.

When she was finished, she remained sitting on his face until she composed herself enough to steadily lift herself up and stand above him. She regarded him with an approving nod and an obviously condescending smile, loving the way his strong chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, before she spoke again.

"That was very good, slave. I have decided that I won't whip your cock. However, I am still horny, so come with me." She turned and walked to her bedroom, glancing back to see that he was right behind her crawling on his hands and knees. "As a slave should be" she whispered to herself as she licked her lips and entered her room, stopping beside the bed.

"Climb onto the bed and lay on your back, arms above your head, legs spread." He uttered a quick "Yes Mistress" as he obeyed, and she swiftly tied his wrists together then to one of the beams on her headboard with a length of rope. She then slid a cock ring onto him until it was tight and secure.

"I am going to ride that thick, hard cock, and since I don't trust you not to cum, that nifty little devide will make sure you don't cum, no matter what I do." As she spoke, she got an almost primal look in her sparkling green eyes, and she climbed onto the bed, facing away from him as she lowered her dripping wet pussy down onto his cock. She moaned and rolled her head back as every inch sank into her. He groaned as her hips rested against his, and she smirked as she rotated her hips to tease him a bit.

Without turning to face him, she spoke in a lust-filled yet still commanding voice. "Beg me to use your cock, slave, and make it convincing." He obeyed without further provocation, his voice desperate and trembling.

"Please Mistress, please use my cock like the toy for you that it is. This cock is yours, please use it to pleasure yourself. It would be such an honor, and honor I don't deserve, if you would. Please?" His last word almost sounded like a whine, and without another word, she started riding him, going slow at first but speeding up quickly. As sadistic as she could be sometimes, she was desperate for some good cock, although she'd never admit it.

She moaned as she rode him quickly and rhythmically, and she felt him thrusting up into her, which made her body tremble and her jaw clench together.

"That's it, slave. Fuck your Mistress until I cum all over your cock." As she spoke, she dug her long, sharp nails into his thighs, which made him moan, and she made a quick mental note to implement more scratching in more interesting places on his body at a later date. Right now, she just wanted to cum, and all that mattered in that moment was her pleasure.

Within several moments, her body was shaking with a powerful orgasm as she threw her head back and screamed. She didn't bother keeping track of how many times she actually came. When she was finished, she fell onto the bed beside him, still facing away from him as she lay on her side. She quietly composed herself before standing up and looking down at him, almost smiling kindly as she watched him squirm and try to break free from his restraints. When she spoke again, he froze.

"Good boy, you let your Mistress use you so well. I bet you're so desperate to cum right now, aren't you?" He only nodded in response, and her smile changed to a sadistic smirk. "Well too bad, you aren't going to cum until I give you permission. I own you, and you are here for my pleasure and enjoyment, and nothing else. For now, I am going to send you home, and until we meet here at my house again, you are not allowed to touch your cock to pleasure yourself. You will not be allowed to remove your collar either. If you do, there is a chip installed in it that will notify me, and you will be punished."

Almost as an afterthought, she added "Do you have any butt plugs?" He widened his eyes but didn't hesitate before answering.

"No Mistress, and I've never had anything in my ass before."

Her eyes sparkled and she opened a drawer in her bedside table, watching his fearful expression change to one of docile submission and acceptance. She loved when slaves took on this look, and it got her juices flowing again as she pulled out a medium-sized black rubber butt plug and a bottle of lube. She turned him over onto his stomach rather easily and rubbed his ass cheeks to relax him, lightly smacking him a few times.

"Relax your muscles, this won't hurt as much as you think it will because I know you want it desperately." Her tone was low and soothing as she coated two of her fingers in lube and spread some around his hole as well. When she felt and saw him physically relax, she pushed one finger into him, eliciting a low moan from deep in his chest. She slowly, methodically pumped her finger in and out of him for a couple of minutes before adding a second finger, drawing a louder moan from him. She smiled at this and pumped him slowly for a few minutes, and when she felt that he was a bit looser, she pulled her fingers out and coated the butt plug in plenty of lube. It was one that she had bought it just for this occasion. It was small at the tip, then it tapered out towards the base. It was wide, but not too wide that it would hurt him. It was a good beginner's plug.

"Good boy" she practically purred, "I'm going to push this toy into your ass now, so I need you to stay relaxed." She poised the tip at the still tight opening of his ass after applying more lube to it, and she slowly yet forcefully pushed the toy into him.

"It hurts Mistress, I don't-" his words were cut off as she smacked his ass roughly but didn't say another word. He moaned and grunted and tried to keep himself relaxed as more of the toy disappeared into his ass, turning her on even more, and when it was all th way in, she let out a soft moan at the same time as he did.

"My God that's sexy" she breathed before clearing her throat and speaking more clearly. "You are to keep that in your ass until we meet again. The only exception is when you have to use the restroom. Then, you must put it back in there when you finish. I will give you lube to take home to help. Do I make myself clear? You may speak."

"Yes Mistress" he moaned, and she stroked his short hair before untying his wrists.

"Now, get dressed, because I know you have to get home. And before I forget, keep the cock ring on too, and do not take it off. It shouldn't interfere with any of your daily activities. I've written out your rules with more details, and I added a couple to spice things up." She led him on his hands and knees out to the foyer, then she retrieved his bag and handed it to him with a bottle of lube. It was rather amusing watching him squirm as he got dressed, and when he was finished, he knelt at her feet to await any last instructions.

"Thank me properly for tonight - normally I have my slaves do this naked, but this is your one reward for being such a good boy. After you thank me, stand and leave. Goodnight and goodbye for now, my slave." He bent and rested his face on the floor next to her boot and kissed the toe gently.

"Thank you for tonight, Mistress, and thank you for making me your slave." He kissed her other boot, then after a second of hesitation, he stood up, the look of combined agony and pleasure quite noticeable on his face. He nodded to her before walking out the door and into the warm night air.

After he had left, she drew a hot bath and stripped naked, pouring herself a glass of wine before slipping into the hot water to reflect on the night's events while she rubbed herself to a slow, lazy orgasm. She smirked and sipped her wine as she mentally planned out what she would do to him the next time they met.

Claiming Him



Nobody in this story is under 18 years old.

*****

"You know what?!" she growled, her voice reaching me across the house and through my closed bedroom door. "I'm sick and tired of this! I'm tired of you always making time for everybody but me. You knew I wanted you to go with me!" A moment of silence. "Look at me!... Why would you make plans to work on his fucking car when you knew you needed to be somewhere else?"

"Because I thought it was more important to help somebody who genuinely needs it than to go to a fucking birthday party for a... woman who doesn't even like me."

"She doesn't like you because you do shit like this!" She groaned, long and loud. "Don't you get it?! Being in a relationship with somebody means being there for them. It means not breaking plans to go do something more fun and interesting!"

"One, I made no such plan with you, and two, changing a water pump is not fun and interesting. I'm doing it because that's what friends do."

Whereas his voice barely reached me, her loud 'Fuck!' made it through, loud and clear, as did the slamming of the door several moments later. I turned onto my back, releasing a breath, not realizing until that moment I'd been holding it. This wasn't the first time they'd fought, and it wasn't the first time she'd left, slamming the door in her wake. It was getting tiring, though, and I knew I needed to say something, before one of the neighbors called the police. I gave him a few minutes to calm before going in search of him. He was sitting on the sofa, head back, hands in his lap. His eyes opened as I neared, his gaze following me as I detoured to the back of the sofa. I leaned over the back, bringing my hands down to his shoulders and my lips to his cheek, pressing a kiss there while I massaged him. "For what it's worth, I think you're a fine man."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm. I think it's a rare man who puts the needs of others above his own, and it's a pity she can't appreciate that." I moved my hands out, slowly working my way down to his biceps, watching as he relaxed. "Maybe it's time you start looking for a new woman," I said, my tone quiet. "Somebody who knows a good man when she sees one." I kneaded the muscles that strained his sleeves. He lifted weights as a hobby, and his chest and arms made my mouth water. I knew he had that effect on most women. But even without the muscles he was a very handsome man, with gorgeous, dark, curly hair, warm brow eyes, a strong jaw, and lips that were made for kissing. I'd long ago stopped beating myself up for admiring his good looks. He's a handsome man and I'm a warm-blooded woman, and since I'm not responsible for the wiring in my brain, I can hardly be faulted for finding him attractive.

I kissed his cheek again, then I kissed his temple. "Safe to say you're officially without dinner plans?"

He nodded. "I'd say that's pretty accurate."

"Wanna take me out to dinner? Take your mind off of that bit of unpleasantness?"

He blew out a breath, nodding. "Think I need a shower first."

I moved down, inhaling his scent. "I'd beg to differ. You smell nice."

"Yeah?"

I nodded. "I, on the other hand, need a shower. Give me an hour to get ready?"

He nodded. "Where are you taking me?"

I laughed softly. "I'm not. You're the one who needs practice."

He turned, meeting my gaze, his brows drawn. "I need practice?" I nodded. "With what?"

I shrugged. "Dating. You're attracting the wrong women. We need to find out why that is."

He nodded slowly. "So...what, I take you on a date, so you can point out my flaws?"

I tapped his nose. "It isn't that you have flaws... I want to know why it is that you haven't found a good woman to love."

"Where are we going?"

My brow twitched. "Well, considering it's our first date, how about a burger joint?"

He gave me a look that said I was crazy. "Never, I repeat, never take a woman to a burger joint on a first date."

"No?"

He shook his head.

"And why is that?"

"First impressions..." he said, shrugging. "You want her to pick you over all the other potential mates. A man should be freshly shaven for a first date, and he should smell nice and be dressed to impress." He shook his head. "A smart man never forgets that dating is a competition, and that the stakes are high."

I nodded, impressed. "Where are you taking me?"

He nodded. "Nothing says 'I want to impress you' quite like Marelli's."

My brow twitched. "Marelli's?" He nodded. I kissed his cheek again then stood, clapping my hands excitedly as I made my way down the hall.

One hour later I stared at my reflection, giving myself a nod of approval. I'd put my hair up, leaving a few tendrils dangling to frame my face, and I'd gone all out with my makeup, something I don't ordinarily do; eye shadow and liner, and mascara. My gaze dropped to my lips, the rich, dark, red lipstick drawing my attention there without screaming at me.

I smoothed my gown, turning to make sure the back was behaving. It was a clingy, black sheath that reached halfway down my thighs, the neck swooping down to expose a good bit of décolletage.

With a final nod, I turned the light out and headed for the front room. It was empty. I found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a glass of wine in his hand. He hadn't yet noticed me and I took the opportunity to admire his ass in the well-fitted slacks. I brought my gaze up to his shoulders then to his neck. At six-three, he's a lot of man, and staring at him then I felt an overwhelming desire to feel the weight of him on me, crushing me, his lips on my neck as he forced my legs open with his own.

I shook my head to clear it, waving a hand to cool my face. I took and released a calming breath and entered the kitchen. He turned as my shoes hit the hard floor. His gaze dropped immediately to my chest, lingering there a moment before moving down to my hips, then lower, finally landing on my feet. He shook his head, bringing his gaze back up to meet mine. I approached him then, taking the glass from him and sipping it.

"You look beautiful."

I smiled. "Thank you." I straightened his tie, though it didn't need it. "You clean up rather nicely yourself."

He laughed softly. "Not bad for a mechanic, huh?"

I shook my head, laying my hand flat on his chest, rubbing it there. "Trust me, big boy, men who work with their hands are far more appealing than desk jockeys."

"Even grease monkeys?"

My gaze on my hand, on the contrast between my red nails and his black silk shirt, I said, "You are anything but a monkey." I patted him, taking a last sip of wine before setting it on the counter. "Shall we?"

He offered me his arm for the walk to his truck, and held my door for me. I watched his profile as he drove, wondering how it was that Melanie couldn't see what she had. He was a good man; honest, caring, even-tempered, hard-working, and drop dead gorgeous. And she was going to lose him if she wasn't careful.

He came around to my door, offering me a hand, shifting his gaze as I swung my legs out. "Such a gentleman," I said, when he pulled me up.

He shrugged, looking shy. We walked in silence toward the entrance, my hand on his arm. He checked in with the hostess and returned to me. "Be a few minutes." He gestured to a small loveseat and sat beside me.

There were several others waiting, but one man in particular caught my attention. He stole one glance after another at my chest and legs. In his defense, he was very discreet.

Nick leaned close. "Got an admirer," he whispered.

I nodded, waiting until we were shown to our booth before saying, "That kind of thing doesn't bother you. Why is that?"

He shrugged. "People look at people. It's how we're wired. It's harmless."

I nodded slowly. "That isn't how James saw it." I shook my head, the ghost of a smile pulling my lips. "At the least, he'd have scowled at the guy. More than likely, though, he'd have said something."

Again he shrugged. "Guy was a territorial little bitch."

I laughed softly, my head shaking. "He told me he thought you didn't liked him."

"I don't."

"He treated me pretty good."

His brow went up. "What made you two break up?"

The waiter showed up then and we ordered our drinks and listened while he went over the specials. Alone again, I said, "Not any one thing, really. I just don't want to belong to someone else when Mr. Right shows up."

"Interesting choice of words."

My brow went up. "Mr. Right?"

He shook his head. "Belonging to someone else."

"What's interesting about it?"

He shrugged, his gaze moving to the menu he held. "Not sure it's healthy to allow somebody that kind of power over you." He met my gaze. "You don't belong to anybody, Linda"

I nodded slowly, my gaze on his. "Sometimes a woman wants to belong." At his dubious look, I said, "Not all women think it's necessarily a bad thing to be a man's possession," I said, my tone quiet.

He broke my gaze, returning his to the menu. I decided to let the subject drop. And a few minutes later the waiter returned to take our orders. When he left, Nick said, "Don't ever let a man convince you that he owns you, Linda."

"Even if I want him to?" He met my gaze then, but only for a moment. "Part of a man's appeal is the dominant side of him. It gives a woman a sense of security, kind of like how a baby feels secure when it's bundled up tight in a blanket and held to its mother's chest." He met my gaze again, his eyes nearly black in the low light. I said, "Having a man want you so much that he's willing to fight to hold onto you can be terribly empowering."

He nodded slowly. "So... you broke up with James because he wasn't willing to fight for you?"

I shook my head. "Not..." I blew out a breath. "You make it sound as though he lost me to another man because he wouldn't fight him for me." His gaze dropped. I said, "It wasn't anything so overt. I just... Sometimes a woman wants a man to lead, to be in control of the relationship. It feels comforting somehow."

He nodded slowly. "Kind of like a father."

I couldn't help the smile. "Well, you know what they say: a girl tries to find a mate that reminds her of her father."

He nodded, smiling himself. "I believe they say the same about men and mothers."

"They do."

His gaze dropped to my lips, for the third time in as many minutes. "Please tell me I don't have something in my teeth," I whispered, covering my mouth with a hand.

He laughed softly, his head shaking. "No, it's just... your lipstick."

My brow went up. "What's wrong with my lipstick?"

"Nothing. Relax. I just like the shade. It suits you."

I lowered my hand, unable to withhold a smile. "Thank you."

"Welcome."

He shifted his gaze, taking in the other patrons, and when he returned his gaze to mine he lifted a brow. "What?"

I shook my head. "She doesn't deserve you," I said, the words coming out before I could sensor them.

He held my gaze for a moment before looking away.

#

He reached for my door, pulling it open. I reached for his offered hand, watching as his gaze made a brief stop on my panties as I swung my legs out. On the way to the door I said, "Thank you again for dinner. I had a nice time with you."

"You're welcome. I had a nice time too."

He gestured me in and I stopped in the foyer, waiting until he turned. "Share a glass of wine with me?"

He smiled, nodding. "Let me go change."

I brought my hand up, running my fingers over his tie, my head shaking. "You went to so much trouble to look nice. Be a shame to waste it." I brought my gaze up to meet his, feeling small despite my three inch heels. I patted his chest. "Go pour the wine. Meet me in the front room."

He left me with a nod. I dropped my purse on the table and turned the stereo on, selecting something soft and setting the volume low. I waited in the middle of the floor, nervous. I was now very aware that I was trying to seduce him, the thought thrilling and also very crazy. I took several deep breaths to calm my nerves, blowing out a long, slow breath as he approached. I smiled, taking my glass. "A toast?" He tilted his head. I brought my glass up and brushed it against his. "To a very nice first date." He immediately dropped his gaze, looking more nervous than I felt. "Nick." He looked up. I smiled. "You're supposed to sip your wine."

He nodded once and tipped the glass up, taking a long sip. I followed suit, then took his glass and set both on the coffee table before again facing him, moving closer, my gaze on my hand as I brought it up, working at the two buttons of his jacket. Wordlessly I removed it and draped it over the arm of the sofa, then I returned to him, meeting his gaze. "Dance with me?" He looked like he wanted to run. I shook my head, smiling, and reached for his hands, pulling them to me, placing them on my hips and releasing them. I ran my own hands up his back to his shoulders and layed my cheek against his chest, inhaling his scent as I did. And within moments I was in the most wondeful place, completely at peace, wanting to be nowhere else. I moved my cheek against his chest, the slightest movement, enjoying the soft silk against my skin. I had the sudden urge to unbutton his shirt and to pull it back, to expose his chest, to lay my cheek against the hair there. I resisted, knowing that if I pushed too hard, too fast, I'd only scare him away. Instead, I squeezed him with my fingers, easing myself closer to him. I wanted to cry a few moments later when I felt his hands move to the small of my back, pulling me into him. I released a soft moan, again flexing my fingers.

"Gotta pee," he whispered, several minutes later.

Though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I released him, moving slowly out of his embrace, turning my face up to meet his gaze. "Me too."

"You go first."

I smiled, then reached up to kiss his cheek. "Such a gentleman."

I returned to find him sitting on one of the bar stools, his wine glass empty. I drew a fingertip down his arm as I passed. "Go. I'll refill your wine."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he left in silence. I refilled our glasses and took a seat on the sofa, sinking back into the cushions, my mind tormenting me with images of he and I in bed, me on my back, him laying between my open legs, pushing his cock into me, making me delirious. I pushed a hand into the top of my mound, trying to quell the itch there. As expected, though, that only fueled the fire. He appeared a few moments later, his gaze finding mine before slipping down over my legs, warming me. On impulse, I uncrossed my legs and stood, slightly annoyed when he diverted his gaze. But he was a gentleman, and that was one of the things that attracted me to him most. I moved to stand near him, silent while he sipped his wine. But when he set the glass on the counter, I set mine beside it and ran my fingers down his arm and into his hand, pulling him gently to me, willing him to wrap me in his arms.

"More dancing then?"

I nodded, laying my cheek against his chest, inhaling, closing my eyes, sighing when he pulled me close. "This is where I belong," I whispered.

"Hm?"

I shook my head, smiling in contentment. We swayed through several more songs, and when a particularly pretty one came on I began to sing, quietly, not sure if he could even hear me.

But...

"You have a beautiful voice."

I smiled, flexing my fingers, pulling myself tighter to him, continuing to sing, a bit louder now. I was completely derailed a few moments later when I began to feel his erection pressing against my stomach. He tried to pull away but I held him fast, my head shaking. "No."

He settled then, and it was a few more minutes of me humming softly to him before I felt him begin to relax against me, his arms tightening their hold on me. I nodded and he laughed softly. "Hard for you sister?" I whispered.

"Mm?"

I shook my head, smiling, moving my hips the slightest bit, rubbing against him, thrilling at the feel of him hard against me. He tensed again, and again I flexed my fingers, moving my hips again, inciting him. "You're making me hot and bothered for you." 

Either he didn't hear me or he was too nervous to respond. It was just as well, for I knew that, as much as I wanted him, I didn't want him tonight. Even after the several glasses of wine I'd had throughout the evening, I knew that having him tonight was likely to be a one night thing. I knew, though, instinctively, that once I had him inside of me, I'd never be satisfied with any other man. That realization solidified my resolve to pull myself away from him, though I allowed myself the luxury of finishing out the song before I eased my hold. I turned my head, tilting it up, focusing my gaze on his lips as I settled mine over them for a brief but warm and improper kiss. I pulled back, dropping my gaze, moving my fingers nervously against his silk-covered chest. "Night," I whispered.

"Night."

I stopped to wash and brush and pee. In my room I stripped, keenly aware of just how wet I was. I pulled open the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed the smooth, plastic toy I kept there, knowing I'd need it to get to sleep. I stretched out in bed, turning the thing on and bringing it down to the base of my stomach, sliding it gently over the skin there, just above my pubic bone, my legs opening in response.

#

I woke to the morning sun, its rays warming me. I stretched, groaning as I did. Then I settled back down, my mind immediately supplying me with images from last night; of Nick and I dancing, or more accurately, swaying to the music, my cheek against his warm chest, his erection pushing insistently into my stomach. I shivered, moaning, stretching again, my hand going down to push against my mound. But that only reminded me that I needed to pee.

I pulled a long tee shirt on and made my way to the bathroom. And as I peed it occurred to me that Melanie hadn't come home last night, that or she came in after I was already asleep. I stopped to peek in his room, confirming my suspicions that she hadn't come home. I made my way to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice, then I curled up on the sofa and pulled my current novel onto my lap.

I don't know how long he'd been standing there before I noticed him, but I met his gaze with a warm smile. "Morning, sleepy head."

"Morning," he mumbled.

"Hungry?"

He nodded. "I was gonna have a bowl of cereal."

I shook my head, setting the book on the coffee table as I stood, knowing that, were he to look, he'd see I wasn't wearing panties. But he didn't look, instead he preceded me into the kitchen.

"How does an omelet sound?"

He smiled and I returned it, shaking my head. As I set to work, I said, "What time is Rich due?"

He shrugged. "Told him I'd call him when I got up."

"Mm."

We'd just sat down to eat when we heard the rattle of keys in the door. I met his gaze, shaking my head at the look of anxiety I saw there. "Don't let her beat you up," I whispered.

He nodded once. A moment later she appeared, slowing, her gaze meeting his then mine then moving back to his, a smile working its way onto her lips. "Morning, hon. Morning, Linda."

We greeted her, him with more enthusiasm than I. For some reason I wasn't ashamed of the fact that I was now on a mission to steal him away from her. As I'd told him last night, she didn't deserve him.

I watched, willing myself not to gag, when she leaned down to kiss him, a lingering kiss that I'm sure involved her tongue. I shivered, though, knowing he hadn't yet brushed. I don't care how in love with a man I am, there is no way in hell I'll kiss him unless he's brushed his teeth.

I heard her whisper an apology, and I heard him return it, much to my dismay.

I learned later that she'd actually told him that he should help Rich with his car, and that she'd been selfish in reacting the way she had. According to him, she'd blamed her lack of graciousness on hormones. I'd grudgingly admitted that I, myself, had been known to lose my mind once or twice a month.




Claiming Him



#

I all but abandoned my quest to lure him away, questioning my resolve to step between them, knowing that I needed to give her the benefit of the doubt. It was one thing to step in when I knew she was on her way out, it was a whole different animal to outright take him from her. But the knowledge that I could take him, if I had a mind to, left me feeling drunk with power.

It was two weeks later, on a Thursday morning, that they had their next fight. They were still in their room, with the door closed, but I could still make out at least every other word. In a nutshell, she was less than pleased with the fact that he would rather go out with friends than accompany her to a birthday party for a friend of hers. And I'd have been inclined to side with her, were it not for two things, the first being that he'd apparently only met her friend once before, and he'd seemed baffled that she'd even ask him to forego a night out with friends for a night out with people he didn't know. But what pushed me over the fence and onto his side was that she'd also brought up the fact that she found it extremely improper that he should be sharing a home with me. And for some reason it pleased me to learn that, until that morning, she had no idea that we were co-owners.

#

I was in the kitchen making dinner when I heard the door open. A glance at the clock told me it was likely her, and a moment later she confirmed it, stopping in the doorway. I raised a brow. "Hello."

"Hi."

I held her gaze for a brief moment then went back to peeling the potato.

She blew out a breath and moved to lean against the counter, a few feet away. "I'm sorry."

My brow went up but I didn't meet her gaze. "For what?"

"This morning; yelling." When I didn't respond right away, she said, "It's just... he drives me crazy sometimes."

I nodded. It was the only thing I could think to do, in light of the fact that I had zero interest in having a conversation with her regarding their relationship.

She said, "You've known him for, what, twenty-five years?" I nodded. She said, "Doesn't he annoy you sometimes?"

I stopped now, meeting her gaze. "Not really, no."

Her brows drew. "He'd rather go out with his friends than go out with me!"

I gave her a dubious look. "That's not exactly what I got out of all the yelling this morning. My take was that you want him to go to a party where he'll know, what, two, maybe three other people?" I shook my head. "You know what, I am not having this conversation with you. I promised myself I wouldn't meddle in his affairs."

"He knows me!" she said, her conviction rattling my nerves.

I turned, facing her and, keeping my voice as calm as I possibly could, said, "You are in my home. You will not raise your voice at me. And you will not, under any circumstances, yell in my home. Ever. Is that clear?"

She stared at me for several long moments, for what, I haven't a clue. Then... "Fine."

I watched her walk off, her ire evident when she slammed the door to their room. I set the potato down, along with the peeler, and went after her. I reached for the handle but stopped short, choosing to knock instead.

"What?" she asked, her tone full on rude.

"I want to speak with you."

"I'm changing."

"I'll wait."

A moment later she yanked the door open, her eyes flashing. "What?"

"This..." I twirled my finger in the air, indicating the house. "...cost me over four hundred thousand dollars. That was my half. Don't you ever slam a door in my home again. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly. Now if you'll excuse me..." She turned and closed the door. Firmly. Testing my patience.

I bit my tongue and returned to the kitchen. It took several minutes of peeling and deep breathing before I was calm again. And though it meant that dinner wouldn't quite be ready when he walked in the door, I decided to change into something a bit more... attractive. This girl had stepped on my last nerve. I wanted her out of my house, and the thought of her sharing even one more night with my brother grated on my nerves something fierce.

I stopped in my room and changed into my cutest summer dress. I ditched my sandals, deciding to go barefoot. My freshly painted nails would catch his eye quicker than any pair of shoes I owned. I'd just entered the hall when a wicked idea formed, causing me to return to my room. I grabbed my half cup bra and, as quickly as I could, switched it for the one I had on, my stomach fluttering as I pulled the dress back over my head, the soft cotton teasing my nipples as it cascaded over them.

In the bathroom, I brushed my hair out then pulled it up with a clip on either side, my gaze dropping to my chest as I did, a smile forming, my head shaking. My areolas were faintly visible as two large, round circles, my nipples proudly poking from their centers like two large erasers. I briefly entertained the idea of switching back to my other bra but I decided against it. I wanted this woman out of my house, and the sooner the better. I applied a bit of mascara and coated my lips with the same lipstick I'd worn on our date, two weeks ago. I nodded at my reflection and returned to finish dinner.

As luck would have it, Nick was a few minutes later than usual, allowing me to have dinner ready when he arrived. And I even set the table for three. Even though I wanted her out of my home, I had made enough for all of us. And I saw no reason to be petty. I shook my head at the thought. On the one hand, I was willing to steal her man away from her, but on the other, I wasn't willing to see her starve.

I'm human, with flaws, sue me.

I leaned against the door frame in the kitchen while he took off his boots, and when he turned, his gaze slid from my face to my chest, lingering a moment before coming back up.

He looked nervous. I offering him a warm smile then approached him, reaching up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek. "How was work?"

He rolled his eyes. I shook my head. "Don't answer that. You can tell me over dinner. Go wash up. And see if Melanie would like to eat with us; I made beef stew."

He smiled. "I love your beef stew."

"I know. Now go."

"Yes, ma'am."

I was surprised a few minutes later when she followed him out. Like him, her gaze went to my chest as she entered. But where he seemed a bit embarrassed, she seemed annoyed. Still, though, I greeted her with a cordial smile. We ate in silence for a couple minutes before he spoke.

"This is really good, Linda."

"It is, very," she said, her tone quiet.

"Thank you."

He shrugged. "James came by today." I nodded. He said, "I met his new girlfriend."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "It was actually her car they were in for."

Again I nodded. I was happy that he'd met somebody new, but I wasn't terribly interested in who it was or what her car needed. I said, "Are you busy Friday evening, after work?"

He looked immediately to Melanie. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I was hoping you'd take me to dinner," she said, sparing me a quick, semi-fake smile.

"What's up?"

I met his gaze, shrugging. "Nothing that can't wait. I was hoping you could help me pick up the new table. I was told it would be in on Friday."

"Saturday morning?"

I smiled, nodding. I wasn't in a terrible hurry for the table; we could pick it up anytime. What I wanted was a date with him. I wanted to give him another, more enticing, taste of what he's missing. But I'm an industrious girl; Friday isn't the only day of the week that ends in Y.

He offered to do the dishes, which was nice. Melanie thanked me for dinner and returned to their room, claiming she had a report due for work, which was also nice. It meant more time alone with Nick.

I cleared off the table while he washed dishes. I put the food away then held up a bottle of wine, one brow up. He smiled, his eyes taking a brief tour of my chest. I shook my head, amused.

He nodded toward the bottle. "I need a shower first."

"It'll keep."

I relaxed on the sofa, reading. And not long after I heard the water shut off, he appeared, wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. It was still hot out. The Sun wouldn't go down for about another thirty minutes. I closed my book and set it aside. "Wanna sit outside with me, enjoy the pretty night?"

He nodded. "You get the wine, I'll get a couple towels for the loungers."

We met outside and I watched as he spread the towels. He looked up, his gaze again dropping to my chest. He averted his eyes. "You may, um... want a bra."

"It's hot," I said, shrugging. I sat and poured us each a glass of wine.

He said, "Thank you again for dinner. It was great."

I smiled. "You're welcome. I'm glad you liked it."

We settled in, enjoying the quiet for several minutes. I said, "You know what would be nice?" He shook his head. "Music."

He nodded once. "Hold that thought."

He headed in but returned quickly with his phone. And a few moments later, soft music filled the air, the volume low, just providing an undercurrent. "Perfect. Thank you."

He nodded. As we sat there, each lost in thought, I wondered what he was thinking. And I wondered if I'd ever sit out here with him, on the same lounger, my head on his chest. I resolved to try. "What are you thinking about?" I asked, my tone low.

He was quiet for a long moment. "Just stuff."

I waited. And sure enough he blew out a breath. "She told me you two got into it."

I nodded once. "I wouldn't exactly say..." I took and released a breath. "She tried to start a conversation with me about the two of you. When I told her I wanted nothing to do with that she got upset. She slammed the door to your room."

"And?"

I made a face. "I told her never to slam another door in my house."

"And that's it?"

I shrugged. "I asked her if I was clear."

"And that's it?"

My brow went up. "Yes, why?"

He shook his head. "She said, and I quote, 'She basically threatened me'."

I rolled my eyes. "I did not threaten her." It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I wanted her out, but I wasn't willing to go there. Instead, I'd kill two birds with one stone, without lifting a proverbial finger.

"For the record, I didn't think you did. It would be out of character for you."

I smiled then. "Thank you."

He nodded, holding my gaze a moment longer. Into the silence I said, "I want you to take me to that Mexican place across from the mall."

His brow went up. "Yeah?"

I nodded.

"And when would you like to go there?"

I shrugged. "Your choice, but I also want you to take me to see that movie I told you about; the one about the guy who breaks his arm and then ends up dating the nurse from the hospital."

"Isn't that a romantic comedy?"

I nodded.

"Also known as a chick flick?"

Again I nodded, smiling. "Think you're man enough?"

He laughed, his head shaking. "When would you like to go?"

"Thursday?"

He nodded. "I'll need a few minutes to get ready after I get home..."

I smiled. We turned our gazes to the sky as the high, whispy clouds turned several shades of red and orange. "Beautiful," I whispered.

"Mm."

I turned to see his gaze coming up. I shook my head, smiling.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't apologize. I choose to take it as a compliment."

#

I'd been looking forward to our date tonight, and as I stared into my closet, trying to decide what to wear, I wondered, not for the first time, whether he'd told Melanie that he was taking me out tonight. If he had, she'd given no indication she knew.

I heard her come in, and she'd walked quietly past the open bathroom door as I was fixing my hair. I'd decided on shorts and a light blouse, the shorts showing off more of my legs than any of my dresses would... well, my summer dresses, anyway.

I was one chapter away from finishing my book when he got home. He poked his head in, his gaze dropping immediately to my legs before coming back up. "Ready?"

I smiled, nodding, pleased that I hadn't needed to remind him.

"Gonna go get ready. Fifteen minutes or so."

I nodded. I went back to my book and a few minutes later I heard them arguing, though the volume was much quieter than the last time. And fifteen minutes later he appeared, looking terribly handsome in a pair of black jeans and a dark green polo, his muscled arms using up all of the available space in the sleeves and then some, his pectorals clearly visible. "Don't you look handsome."

He smiled. I took his arm for the walk to his truck, and thanked him when he held my door. We drove a few blocks in silence before I spoke. "Please tell me I didn't get you in trouble."

He met my gaze, shaking his head. "I can't win."

"When did you tell her we were going out?"

He met my gaze, looking embarrassed. "Tonight."

I chuckled, my head shaking. "I hope you're not wondering why she's upset."

He made a face. "Not really, no." A few moments later he said, "I guess I just didn't want to hear about it for three days."

I nodded but bit my tongue. At the restaurant, he got my door for me, and offered me his arm for the walk in. Over dinner we came up with the idea of having a barbeque on Saturday, just the two of us; Melanie was going to a wedding.

"How'd you get out of that?"

He shrugged. "I told her I was busy."

I nodded, impressed. "Wow. And did you break that news to her tonight also?"

He shook his head. "Night before last. I figured I was safer splitting things up."

I laughed softly, my head shaking. "Too much drama for me."

"You're single. What drama could you possibly be involved in?"

"Well, I got into a... discussion with your girlfriend on Monday, and tonight, whether either of us wants to admit it or not, I've pissed her off yet again," I said, only loud enough for him to hear.

He shook his head. "Tonight wasn't your fault. It's mine for not letting her know ahead of time."

"Fair enough. Still, though, it feels..." I shook my head. "Nevermind."

"Tell me," he said, his tone soft.

I met his gaze, holding it a moment. "I was going to say it's been a bit uncomfortable. She's not happy with me right now." I wanted to say that I wanted her out but I knew it needed to be his idea.

"You could talk to her."

I shrugged. "Maybe... We'll see."

"Anyway, how's work? Did you sell anything today?"

I shook my head. I'm a commercial realtor, and as such, it isn't unusual to go for weeks, or even longer, without selling anything. "Maybe tomorrow." Nobody but the two of us knew it, but we were saving to buy a building, to get out from under the rent he was paying at the shop. Though the market was constantly changing, we figured we were on schedule to begin a serious search sometime next year.

"I saw Karen today," he said, once the waiter had taken our orders.

I couldn't help the grin. His last ex. He'd literally caught her cheating, with another of his exes. That had been the subject of more than one conversation. And, interestingly, that hadn't been the end of their relationship. They'd actually simply drifted apart, splitting up amicably a couple months after her little fling with the other ex. "And how is Karen?"

He rolled his eyes. "She asked if I was single."

I shook my head. "You're not, so don't get any stupid ideas."

His brow went up. "Not to worry, I have no intentions of cheating."

I chuckled. "I showed an office building today to this couple. Two men."

His brow went up. "And you're telling me this, why?"

I laughed softly. "I was thinking of Karen and Terry..."

"Ah." He nodded.

"They interacted like an old, married couple; complaining about each other, making faces, that sort of thing." When he continued to stare at me I shrugged. "Guess you had to be there."

"Maybe. For the record, though, gay men are never really gonna warrant my attention." A slow smile pulled his lips. "Lesbians, on the other hand..."

I laughed softly, my head shaking. "Typical man."

Into the short silence I said, "Have you ever..." I shook my head. "Never mind."

"Seriously? You know you can't do that."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Fine, but don't say I didn't try to get out of it... Have you ever been with two women?"

He shook his head slowly. "And not for a lack of interest."

Mercifully, the waiter showed up with our dinner. We talked about the shop; him wanting a new diagnostic tool of some sort, making it a business dinner. Neither of us had left room for dessert. We paid the bill and left. At the truck, he held my door for me, his gaze caressing my upper thighs as I sat. I moved slowly, swinging one leg in, stopping there, my legs spread in a most unladylike fashion. "Hey," I said, softly, pulling his attention up, his gaze meeting mine. "The movie doesn't start for just over an hour. We could walk downtown, burn off some of that food."

He nodded. "Good idea." He offered his hand, helping me out, his gaze falling again to my thighs.

I slipped my arm through his and we began a slow stroll, people-watching along the way. We found ourselves in the quaint little alley that led to the theater. It was lined with restaurants and coffee shops and bakeries, and with the classy, piped-in music, it felt like a cozy little paradise. I squeezed his arm, pointing. One of the restaurants, an Italian place, had a cute, little garden-like area set up, where some of the patrons were taking advantage of the pretty music and the beautiful summer weather, dancing. "Maybe we should have a glass of wine."

He laughed softly. "Methinks you're more interested in the dancing than the wine."

"And if I am?"

He shook his head. "Never leave a lady wanting."

I moved close, pressing my breasts against his arm. "This lady wants to dance."

We entered and caught the eye of a waitress. She showed us to a small table for two, took our wine order, and left. I turned my attention on him. "Tell me about Melanie. Do you see yourself marrying her?"

He made a face before shaking his head once. I released a quiet breath. He said, "We're just not a good fit, you know?"

I nodded. And though I had my own opinions about her and about him and about their relationship, I really felt I needed to keep my thoughts to myself. He needed to figure things out for himself. But I wasn't unwilling to help things along. "Tell me about your ideal woman."

He smiled, his gaze dropping, whether subconsciously or not, to my chest. At 34C, I'm big enough up top to attract my fair share of attention. I laughed softly. "Okay, so... big boobs?"

He looked away, shy, shrugging.

"Hey," I called, just loud enough for him to hear. He met my gaze. I gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm flattered, really."

He smiled a boyish smile, his gaze again dropping, briefly.

I shook my head, amused. "Do you remember the question?"

He shook his head. "Wait. My ideal woman," he said, impressed with himself. I smiled, nodding. "Well, I suppose my biggest requirement is that she's sweet; somebody who isn't uptight all the time." He met my gaze, shrugging.

The waitress came with our wine. We sipped at them for a few quiet moments then I allowed my gaze to move to the dancing couples. He stood then, offering me his hand. He pulled me to an empty spot in the shadows and I stepped close, one foot between his, one hand going to his chest, one into his hand, a small space between us. Within a few moments, though, I felt his thumb begin to move, caressing me just below my breast, his hand on my waist. I closed the distance between us, moving my hand from his chest to his back, up to his shoulder, pressing my cheek to his chest. I exhaled.

"Okay?"

I nodded, smiling. "Perfect."

As with the last time we'd danced, we didn't actually turn. We swayed, which was somehow terribly erotic, in that it felt like we weren't actually dancing, rather we were just holding onto each other for the sake of being close.




Claiming Him



A slow smile pulled my lips when I felt him begin to harden against me. I moved my hips ever so slightly, moaning quietly. He flexed his fingers, squeezing me gently. I continued to move my hips, slowly, enough that he could feel it, yet not enough to be noticable by those around us. And he continued to harden. "Hard for me again?" I murmured.

"Mm?"

I moved, bringing my head up onto his shoulder. I slid gently against him, making him moan. I released a calming breath. "For me?" I whispered.

He laughed softly, brushing his cheek against my hair.

I pulled myself tighter to him, tilting my head up, pressing my lips to his neck, inhaling his scent. "You smell like a man should smell."

"And how's that?"

I shook my head, inhaling. I nipped at his neck. "I can't describe it."

"Mm."

"But I can tell you what it does to me."

His hands moved up, his thumbs now just under my breasts. He squeezed me then, making me moan.

Though the last thing I wanted to do was to move away from him, I knew I needed to do just that. I brought my hands around to his chest, reaching up to kiss his cheek. Then I caught his hand and pulled him toward our table. I didn't sit though, instead I reached for my wine, taking a last, long swallow before setting it down. I squeezed his hand and released it. "Gonna find the little girls' room. Take care of the bill?"

"Sure."

I walked into the restaurant in a bit of a daze, not so much buzzed from the wine as dizzy with nervous excitement. I'd openly teased him, flirted with him. I'd gotten him hard. I had no idea how to face him now. I needed to though.

I peed and washed then I returned to the patio, finding him standing near the entry to the alley, his back to me. I have no idea what made me do it but I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek to his back. His hand came up a moment later, closing over mine. We stayed like that for a few long moments before I pulled away. Without meeting his gaze I slipped my arm through his and began the walk to the theater.

I watched him from a few feet away as he bought our tickets. And I knew then that I wouldn't stop pursuing him until we made love, until I had him hovering over me, pushing into me, making me his.

He approached, looking shy. He shrugged. "Starts in a few minutes." I nodded. He brought his hand up then, drawing the backs of his fingers over my cheek. I released a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "Okay?" I nodded, smiling, feeling surprisingly light. "Come on then." He brought his hand down to the small of my back and guided me toward the door.

We stopped just inside the theater, assessing the available seating. "How about there?"

I shook my head, my gaze moving. I led him to a row a few from the back. I don't much care for sitting too close.

While the previews played he said, "Should have gotten something to drink and some popcorn."

"Want me to go?"

He shook his head. "Any special requests?"

"Water?"

He nodded. "Be right back."

#

Though he'd expressed his disinterest in the movie when I'd suggested it, now, halfway through, he was wiping at his eyes, laughing along with the rest of us at one of the funnier lines.

"That is too funny," he whispered.

I nodded. "You'd think she's never seen a penis before."

"Oh, it's not that, it's that she's never seen one that big."

"I suppose you're right." I returned my attention to the screen. But a few moments later I leaned close. "Some women just really can't appreciate a larger man."

"Are you implying that you can?"

I reached for my water, my head shaking. A few moments later he returned his attention to the screen.

We stood when the credits began to roll. Outside, I took his arm. "That was pretty good."

"It was. Some of it was a bit far-fetched but... It worked."

I nodded. "A good romance demands that the girl gets the boy."

We walked the few blocks back to the truck, and as we began the short drive home I turned, leaning my head against the rest. "I had a nice time with you."

He smiled, briefly meeting my gaze. "Me too."

I took and released a breath, gathering my nerve, then I laid my hand beside his on the console, a moment later brushing my finger against the back of his hand. And I watched as his hand rolled over, palm up. Nervous, I pressed my fingertips to his then trailed them down the inside of his fingers once before bringing them back up. Then I moved them to the side and allowed them to slide through his, the touch altogether intimate, a lover's touch.

He curled his fingers, gently, capturing me. I pulled his hand up to my lips, watching him as I kissed the backs of his fingers, one after the other, lingering kisses meant to arouse.

We pulled up to the house a few minutes later, my lips pressed to the back of his hand. Gently he pulled free, breaking the spell. He turned the truck off and came around to get my door, offering me a hand, his gaze going directly to the crotch of my shorts. I shook my head. "Not supposed to look down there," I whispered.

He offered me his arm, both of us aware she was likely home, and that there was a chance she was watching.

As it turned out, she wasn't watching, at least it didn't appear as though she was; she was sitting on the sofa, watching a movie, an empty wine glass on the table beside her. I greeted her with a cordial smile. "Anything good?"

She shrugged. "So so." She turned her attention on him, offering him her lips.

I realized in that moment that she'd smell me on him. I turned, heading for the bathroom, my stomach suddenly nervous. As I peed, though, I rationalized that she'd probably assume he smelled like me because we'd been sitting close together for the past couple hours. But whether she suspected anything was going on between us or not, I still felt dirty. And I vowed that, until and unless they broke up, I would not flirt with him again. Much as I wanted him, I needed to keep my sanity.

#

I'd been a good girl for the better part of two weeks, mindful not to tease him, not playing along when, on the Saturday following our date, he slipped his arms around my waist, pressing his cheek to the side of my head. I'd simply turned my head, kissed his cheek, and slipped out of his embrace.

The following Monday, though, he'd come in from work, in a better mood than usual, and nuzzled me, making me giggle like a school girl. Then he'd pressed a kiss to my cheek before moving to lean against the counter, his eyes alight with life. "I had a new customer today." At my raised brow he said, "She was referred by James' new girlfriend."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Pretty lady; blonde, slim, long, tanned legs..." He shook his head, smiling. "She wanted to know if I was seeing anybody."

I grinned. "Bet that felt good."

He nodded, grinning.

"What felt good?"

I felt my stomach fall, as I'm sure he did. I watched the look of anxiety work its way onto his face and, without thinking, I said, "He got a compliment today, from one of his customers." I shook my head. "I'm so proud of you."

I have no idea whether she actually believed me or not, but it seemed to mollify her. She left a moment later and he rolled his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

I shook my head. "For covering for you?" It wasn't actually lying. His brows drew and I softened my tone. "That was really uncomfortable, Nick."

"I'm sorry."

I gave him a sad smile. "You're worried about how your significant other would take a compliment from another woman, Nick. Think about that."

He stared at me a moment before nodding. "I know. I just... She's a good person."

I shook my head. "I have no doubt, but Nick..." I so didn't want to say the words. I shook my head, turning my attention back to the skillet.

#

On Friday evening, as we ate dinner, he said, "I broke it off with Melanie."

My brow went up. I hadn't consciously noticed, but now that he brought it up, I realized I hadn't seen nor heard from Melanie since... "When?"

"On Wednesday." I nodded slowly. He said, "What you said got me thinking."

I shook my head. "Nick..."

"Just hear me out."

I nodded. He said, "You were right; I don't want to spend my life with somebody that possessive." I opened my mouth to speak but he shook his head. "I'd have figured it out sooner or later, but thanks to your words of wisdom I saved us both a bit of wasted time and heartache."

I nodded once, hoping this didn't come back to bite me later.

"This is really good, by the way."

I smiled then. I'd made lasagne, from scratch. I'd sold a building this morning and decided to take the rest of the day off. I spent part of it working on our dinner. "I'm glad you like it."

He took another bite, his gaze going to the casserole, his brow going up. "Is this from scratch?" I nodded, smiling. He shook his head. "Wow. You are amazing."

I grinned now. "Just figuring that out?"

He shook his head, the smile leaving his face. "No, I've known ever since I can remember."

The words and his sincerity gripped my, leaving me speechless. I shook my head, holding his gaze a moment longer before lowering it to my plate.

After dinner he offered to do the dishes. I cleaned the table and the counters while he worked, and when we finished I suggested we watch the sunset.

He nodded. "Turn some music on? I'm gonna go change."

"Sure." I found a smooth jazz station and turned the volume up enough that we'd have some quiet background music outside, then I grabbed a couple towels, our wine glasses, and the bottle.

He caught up to me in the front room, taking the towels from me. He covered the chairs while I filled our glasses. I eased back against my chair with a sigh. "Another beautiful night."

"Pretty night, pretty music, pretty girl, good wine... I'm a happy man."

I met his gaze, smiling. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his eyes glowing in the early evening sunlight. He turned his gaze up, taking in the high clouds. "I didn't realize how stressed I was until she left."

I nodded, choosing silence. I turned my gaze to the skies, and we enjoyed the music and the sunset. I was supremely comfortable and content when, as the shadows began to grow, I felt his fingers run down my arm. I turned my head, returning his smile. "Such a handsome boy."

His smile morphed into a grin, his head shaking. "Know what would be nice?" I shook my head. He drew his fingers back up my arm. "A hammock, stretched between those two trees," he said, gesturing.

"That would be nice."

His brow twitched. "We could watch the sunset from there..."

"Together?"

He nodded, drawing a design on my shoulder with a fingerstip. "Maybe I'll pick one up tomorrow."

I shivered. "In the mean time..."

He slid his hand over my shoulder, pushing my hair back then tracing the shell of my ear with a fingerstip. "Dance with me?"

I brushed my cheek against his hand, nodding once. He stood and offered me a hand, pulling me up and to him, his arms going around me. I sighed, laying my cheek against his chest, inhaling his scent then releasing a long breath, pulling myself closer to him.

"You smell like peaches," he whispered.

"You smell like a man"

He laughed silently, his chest vibrating against me. "That good or bad?"

I stood up straighter, nuzzling him. "Good," I murmured.

His hands on my waist, he squeezed me, gently, pulling me closer, pressing himself into me.

I nipped at his neck. "Hard," I whispered, moving against him.

"Mm. You seem to have that effect on me."

I kissed his neck. "Not supposed to want your sister that way," I whispered. He groaned, pulling me tighter to him. "You do want me, though, don't you, big boy?"

He moved then, trying to find my lips with his. I held him off, moving my lips to his ear. "You want to get into my panties, don't you, baby?"

He surprised me then, lifting me up off my feet. I shrieked, instinctively wrapping my legs around his waist, my hands going around his neck as he began to move toward the house. I wanted to kiss him in the worst way but I knew he needed to see. Instead I pressed my lips to his ear. "Where are you taking me?" I asked, suddenly drunk with desire.

"To bed," he whispered.

I nipped at his ear. "You need to be inside of me, don't you, baby?"

"Yes," he hissed.

"That's what I want too, baby. I want to feel you pushing into me," I murmured. "Where you belong."

He set me down and reached for my dress. I brushed his hands away, holding his gaze as I slowly lifted it over my head, watching as his gaze dropped to my chest. I reached behind me and unfastened my bra. It slowly fell away.

He shook his head. "Beautiful."

I brought my hands up to cup my breasts, my gaze on his as he took me in, as I pinched my nipples, releasing a moan. "Take your shorts off."

He met my gaze then reached down, unsnapping and unzipping them. I continued to hold his gaze as he slipped them down and off. "Underwear too," I said, holding his gaze.

A moment later they fell silently to the floor. I reached for him then, my gaze on his as I wrapped my hand around him, watching his eyes as I squeezed him. I bit my lip when it throbbed. "Thick," I said, my voice low.

He nodded, bringing his hands up to cup my breasts. "Soft."

"Take my panties off."

I held my breath as he did, as they slid down my thighs, pooling in a whisper at my feet. I released him and moved back until my legs hit the bed. I sat and slid further onto the bed, laying back against the pillows, spreading my legs for him. He followed me, kneeling between my thighs, his hands coming down either side of my head. I caught him again, squeezing him, stroking him, my gaze on his. I shook my head when he tried to kiss me. "Not yet, baby. I want to watch your eyes the first time you enter me."

He shook his head slowly, his eyes smoldering with desire. "So hard," I whispered. He moaned. I stroked the length of him, once, twice, then I pulled him down, hissing when the head touched my mound. I squeezed him and he pushed against my hand. I nodded. "Harder, baby." Again he pushed, moaning when I squeezed. "Like that?"

He shook his head. "So fucking sexy."

I nodded. "I know how to keep a man, Nick." I took and released a breath, still stroking him. "Come on, baby, show me how much you want me." Again he pushed at my hand. I nodded, pushing against him, angling him down lower. His groaned when the head slipped through my lips, parting them. Again I pushed against him, feeling him throb in my hand, his head shaking. "Yes, baby, show me." He pushed hard against my hand, his swollen head parting my lips, making us both moan. "Harder, baby." He pulled back then pushed forward. I released him then, my breath catching as he slid into me in one smooth motion, pinning me to the bed as I pulled my legs further apart, opening myself up to him. I caught his cheeks with my hands, forcing eye contact, nodding. "You feel so fucking good inside of me."

He sought out my lips then, his tongue finding mine, making me crazy with desire. He began thrusting into me, hard. I broke the kiss, my head shaking. Again I caught his cheeks. "Easy, baby. Make love to me."

He shook his head and lowered his lips to mine, this time kissing me gently, his hips beginning to move again. I pulled my knees back, moaning into his mouth as he filled me, stretching me.

I broke the kiss, moving my lips to his ear. "That's it, baby, show me how much you love me."

"I do love you, very much."

"I know, baby." I curled my fingers, digging my nails into his back, not hard, just enough for him to feel my desire for him. When he began to get carried away again I said, "Gently, baby. Make it last."

He shook his head but he eased up. Several minutes later, though, he was again thrusting, pushing me into the bed, making us both moan. He was beginning to get to me and I ran my hands down to the small of his back, pulling against him. "That's it, baby, make love to me. Show me how much you love me."

I was close now, but I wanted him with me when I went over. I pulled myself into him a few more times then moved my lips to his ear. "This is where you belong, baby, inside of me."

He groaned then, long and low, throbbing inside of me, sending me over. I pulled at him, holding him to me, wanting to be full of him. In the afterglow, he turned his head, searching out my lips, the kiss slow and deep and intoxicating. And when it broke, I ran my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him to me, his face in my neck, mine in his.

"Too heavy?"

I shook my head. "I've been dying to have you right here for the longest time. I'm in no hurry to move."

He laughed softly. "Me either but my knees are starting to protest."

In one motion he rolled over, taking me with him. I smiled at him, reaching out to touch his lip, my gaze on my finger as I lowered my lips to his. I shivered, moaning as he slipped out of me. "We need a towel," I said, not wanting to but rolling off of him anyway.

I watched him leave the room and I watched him return, towel in hand. And I watched his face as I pulled my knees back and spread my legs, opening myself to him, pulling my hand away. He covered my sex with a towel-covered hand then met my gaze, his head shaking. "You are one sexy lady."

My brow twitched. "I'm glad you think so, because I'm really quite fond of you."

He smiled, holding my gaze another moment before moving it back down to my sex, concentrating as he cleaned me up. He wiped himself off then stretched out beside me, head on his hand. I rolled onto my side, snuggling up to him, slipping my leg between his. I smiled, tracing his brow then drawing my fingerstip down his nose. "Handsome boy," I whispered. "That was really nice."

"It was. Thank you."

I shook my head, the smile leaving. "Not gonna wanna let you go now."

He caught my hand, bringing it down, kissing the backs of my fingers. "Not gonna let you go," he whispered.

End



Claiming His Bounty Ch. 01



"So, what exactly does a bounty hunter do?" She played with her hoop earring, running her finger around the inner rim. Her other hand held her cocktail which she sipped every few minutes. Her lusting eyes never strayed from him.

"Well, some of us prefer to be called bail enforcement agents, but it's alright if you call me a bounty hunter. I arrest criminals who jump bail. I get the reward for turning them in."

"Sounds dangerous." Her fingers lightly guided her straw to her pink lips for another sip.

"It is. But I always make it out alive. My trusty firearm has saved me many times," Felix said as he casually opened his jacket to give her a peek at the gun in its holster. He couldn't admit that the most action he had with his gun was cleaning it regularly.

She leaned over her drink toward him. "Do you carry handcuffs too?" she whispered in his ear.

He smirked and raised his eyebrow. "Why? Have you been a naughty girl?"

"Maybe," she said and rocked back in her bar stool.

"I might have to arrest you then." He tried not to look too eager. His night was getting better. Finally, a chance to have Shawna in his bed. She sipped the rest of her drink. His eyes traveled from her pretty face to the tits spilling out of her top.

"Why don't we talk more about what you do at your place? Maybe you can show me exactly how you take a criminal in. I'll pretend to be the bad girl." Her eyes looked him up and down too. His dark hair and dark eyes made him appear dangerous. It was what she was looking for. She centered her focus on his jean's zipper and bit her lip.

"Not tonight, sweetheart." A middle aged ill-dressed man carrying a couple folders pushed his way in between them.

"Really, Marv?" Felix complained.

Marv turned to the woman. "You don't want anything to do with this creep. Plus, the doctor still don't know what's wrong with his dick." Felix threw his hands up. Shawna, with an obvious look of disgust on her face, nodded grimly at the two men and left.

"Shawna, wait! There's nothing wrong with my dick!" he announced to the nearly empty bar and turned his glare onto Marv. "You fucker! You know how long I've been trying for her."

"Yeah, whatever. You don't want that slut. Trust me." Felix shook his head and gulped down his beer. "Got something for ya." Marv slid the folder to him.

He opened the file. "What? C'mon! Again? He almost killed me last time. He threatened to sit on me!"

"I guarantee this will be the last time. He's in a big, fucking mess."

Felix sighed and finished his glass. "You fuckin owe me. My hands could have been on her titties by now."

Just before 2 AM, Felix fell onto his bed in his small apartment. The job wasn't as bad as he had anticipated. With a hand firmly on his holster, he barged into the fugitive's house. But the huge man succumbed to tears rather than violence, begging "don't make me go back there!" Easy job, easy money. He passed out with his clothes still on, wishing in his final moments of consciousness that sometime soon he would go to sleep and wake up with a beautiful woman next to him from then to the end of his life. 

~

He tossed the coffee cup into the trashcan in front of "Marv's Bail Bonds" and went through the door. No one was in the lobby, so he went behind the desk and down the hall. Marv waved him in as he knocked on his open door.

"Got one." Marv handed him another file that was thin and almost empty. "You're gonna love this one."

Felix flipped it open. His eyes immediately rested on the mug shot. She was skinny with a fair boob size, blonde bangs and crimped hair, with a scared look on her face. She seemed to be asking the camera, "What am I doing here?" And she was a beauty, downright sexy.

"Let me guess...meth?"

"Tax evasion."

Felix laughed. "Tax evasion?" He shook his head and read her information.

Carry Wilder. Age 27.

He studied the photo again. It was a shame she had to go to jail. He wanted a night with her underneath him, moaning and crying out his name. "This should be easy. I'll have her in by tonight."

"Don't forget your gun."

Felix pointed to the folder. "Seriously?"

"Maybe she's got a boyfriend living with her." He nodded. The risk was too high. He decided to do a stakeout first before charging in.

He parked six houses down from the blue, white trimmed house with a front yard almost overgrown with weeds. It wasn't neat, but it wasn't screaming slums either. Only one car occupied the driveway. Hers. No other cars were parked on the curb or anywhere near the house.

After an hour of boring observation, he closed his eyes and succumbed to his drowsiness. A few hours later, he woke up pissed that he wasn't paying attention. But the scene hadn't changed. Her car was still there. He cracked his neck and stepped outside. The cool breeze energized him and helped him regain his focus.

His gun was in its holster. His handcuffs were hanging from the back of his jeans. His paper for the girl was folded in his pocket. He was set. His eyes swept the area surrounding the house. He noticed the enormous tree in the backyard. It was perfect for his lie. He ascended the few steps to the porch. He knocked and turned his body to where only an outline of him can be seen through the peephole.

"Who are you?" the woman called from the other side of the closed door. The fear in her voice gave her away. She was alone.

"It's your neighbor, from down the street. Um, my cat is in your tree." As soon as the door opened, he pushed his way in, forcing her back. "Hello," he greeted her as he threw her back in and closed the door behind him.

Carry quickly backed away from him and farther into the living room. Her hand was firmly planted on the back of her hip. The other hand shook as she reached out in a defensive pose. Her eyes were wide with terror and anger. "Who the hell are you?"

He noticed the packed bags neatly set at the door next to him. "Whatcha doin skipping town, sweetheart?" She cocked her head, not understanding his comment. "You're in a lot of trouble." He took the handcuffs and swung them around his hand. Her eyes followed each circle they made. "C'mon, sugar. Don't make this hard on yourself." Her fear turned to desperation. He could see it in her eyes. She was determined to escape. Her hand awkwardly clung to her back. He advanced as she stepped backward. "C'mon, doll. Let me take you in. You have nowhere to go, except with me."

She flinched as she bumped into a small stand behind her. "My boyfriend is going to be home any minute," she said with hesitation. Felix shrugged. "He'll kill you if he sees you." He smirked and kept walking toward her, still swinging the handcuffs. She looked around him at the living room window.

"That doesn't scare-"

"He's home!"

Instinctively, he quickly turned and took a few steps to the window, heart pounding, but he couldn't see anyone or any new car parked nearby. He turned back and stared at the gun pointed at him. He surrendered his hands, cuffs hung from his fingers.

"You don't want to do that..." He used his best patronizing tone to mask his fear. 

"You don't know what I want," she retorted, shaking the gun at him.

Appearing as calm as possible, he raised an eyebrow and tried to reason with her. "You shoot me, and you'll be in a lot of trouble."

He underestimated her intelligence and her hatred for him. "You're not a cop," she taunted. "No one gives a shit about a bounty hunter."

"Bail enforcement agen-"

"Shut up."

"Ok." He did, hands still up, backing away from her. She stayed back, gun still pointed at him, trying to find the words that could help her win. Her aim was at his crotch, and the shakiness and grip she had on the gun told him that she never shot one before. "You do realize that if I don't have you in cuffs and out the door in five minutes, my backup will come in."

"You don't have any backup," she sneered. Her shaking was more pronounced. Her face could no longer hide the physical pain she endured keeping the gun on him.

"Wanna bet? Look out the back door. He's probably there waiting." She slightly shook her head. He couldn't play the same trick on her. "Ok, keep the gun pointed at me, and we'll walk there together." She started taking paces to the side. When she turned her head back, he pounced. He latched onto her arm and pried the gun away before she had a chance.

"Ow!" she cried out as he yanked it away.

He took two steps back and smiled in victory. "Ha ha!" He pointed the gun straight at her.

Instead of ducking or running, she rolled her eyes. Her tiny frame was no match for him, yet he held his gun like his life depended on it. "Really?"

"You pulled a gun on me!" He waved the firearm at her. "Turn around. Hands on your head."

Defeated, she brought her hand from her back and turned. A large patch of fresh blood stained her white tank top just above her left hip. Her bloody left hand trembled behind her head.

"Holy shit, what happened?" The gash was at least a couple inches, an obvious slash from a knife. "Who did this to you?"

Her head hung and her body shuddered. "My boyfriend." She sniffled. "He left just before you came in. He won't be back until tomorrow." She sniffled louder. "To make sure I'm gone by then." He heard the tears forming.

"Aw dammit!" It meant a trip to the hospital first. His promise to have her in by night wasn't going to be possible. "Fuck," he said, running his hand through his hair. "Put your hands behind you. I'll be careful."

She dropped her arms slowly from her head to her hips. "You're gonna take me to jail? Like this?"

"We'll go to the hospital first."

Her breathing became shallow and rapid. "Wait! Here me out."

"Make it quick."

She faced him. "It's my boyfriend. This whole mess is his doing. Please, my life is in danger. I can't be seen at the hospital. I have supplies to clean up this cut."

"You'll need stitches-"

"I know how to stitch myself up. Just please, let me take care of this here. Then, I'll go with you."

The terror in her voice was real. He knew she wasn't telling him a fairy tale. Her lips quivered as her pleading eyes stared at him. The damsel in distress act was working on him. He lowered the gun. "You better keep your word. Nothing funny, got it?" She nodded with a small, grateful smile. "Show me where."

"Bathroom," she said and pointed at the hallway. He followed her. He could see how her boyfriend mistreated her based on what he observed. Everything feminine was taken over by beer bottles, his clothes, and his expensive toys. The walls showed disturbing evidence of his rage. Punched holes and tiny specks of blood were everywhere. He bit his tongue to keep from asking how bad his abuse was. More than ever, Felix wanted to make sure she went to prison just for her safety against her boyfriend's wrath.

"You coming?" Carry asked in the doorway of the bathroom. He tore his gaze away from a stain of old blood with a smell of bleach coming it, as if the bastard half-assed an attempt to clean it up. Felix entered, shivering. She crouched at the sink and brought out boxes from the cabinet below. "You wouldn't be grossed out stitching me up, would you?"

He shrugged. "I guess I can handle it. Do you have something to deal with the pain?"

"Thankfully." She held up the needles. "Just enough to get through this job."

"You know how?"

"I was a nurse for a couple years." She organized the supplies neatly on the sink and took off her shirt. "Clean it first. Use that." She pointed to a couple of packets. She sat on the tub while he knelt on the floor next to her. He gently wiped the blood away.

"So, you WERE a nurse?"

"Is that a question?" She sighed. "Before I got fired three years ago."

"Is there a story about that?" He threw away one packet and tore open the next.

"Of course. My jackass boyfriend got me in trouble. He used me to swipe meds for him and his friends to deal. Then, I was fired and unemployed. I had to work so many stupid, odd jobs. Then the bastard took my money. When I finally got enough to survive and didn't tell him, he got pissed and punished me. He told me to give all of my shit to him and that prevented me from filing taxes. I knew that was bad, but I didn't know that meant jail time. He didn't give a fuck. He said I deserved it."

She flinched as he cleaned closer to the wound. "And why are you still with him?"

"I have no choice."

"Because he's abusive."

She shook her head. "That's a small reason." She rubbed her forehead and face. "It's his friends, his workers, his bitches. He's the ringleader of a bad group of people. Burglary, dealing, smuggling, murder. Like the fucking mafia. I have to stay. I know too much. They'll kill me if I run. And they won't kill me nicely either." She showed him where to poke her. She sucked in her breath at the sting. "Give it some time."

He set down the needles. "What do you mean, they won't kill you nicely?"

Her arms crossed as if consoling herself. "I think my boyfriend gets off on torture. I've heard him pick a guy's eyeballs out with a screwdriver. The screaming stays with you. And he threatened me."

"Why is he letting you leave now?"

She paused, searching for words. "Um..." His question caught her off guard. "It's a cat and mouse game." She hesitated again. "He's giving me a head start so he can track me down and kill me. Or he's waiting to see if I stay loyal. But I was gonna run. I had to try. And I don't want to go to jail either. I want my freedom back. I want my life back."

Felix believed her and felt more sympathetic each passing second. "So, when you get out of jail, you'll be in danger again?"

"I'll probably won't make it out of jail alive. He has eyes and connections everywhere. Everyone will do his bidding to avoid his anger. Hand me those and pay attention." She showed him what he needed to do to close the wound. "So, you see why I have to take a chance."

He winced as the needle laced through her flesh. "How many times has he cut you?"

"This is the first. I'm usually a good girl. I sometimes get it but not as bad as anyone who had crossed him," she said as though the frequent hitting was a natural part of their relationship.

"Whose blood is on the walls?" Sewing her wound up and thinking about how many deaths occurred in the hallway made him nauseated.

"His enemies' blood. It's hell cleaning it up."

He gently finished shutting the gash without vomiting. "Ok, I'm done," he said softly. She stood and carefully trashed the supplies and neatly put everything back in place. Her words haunted his mind. It seemed that all of her roads led to an ugly, premature death.

She stood straight and faced him. "How can I repay you?"

Very slowly, her eyes traveled from his and made their way down his body, pausing and centering in on his crouch. He shook his head and jolted when he realized his eyes were concentrated on her lacy white bra. He blinked and looked elsewhere.

"Trading you in for my promised monetary reward is fine enough." He studied the broken tile of the shower. His mind was focused on what her tits looked like.

She stepped up to him. "I'm serious-"

"I am too." She plotted her next step. The struggle within him was obvious. If he didn't want her, he would have had her in handcuffs by then.

She folded her hands in front of her and looked down at them. "I just want to thank you for taking care of me and listening."

He looked to her then. Her eyes flicked up at him, but they were no longer innocent. His instinct told him that she was trouble. His cock reminded him that she was damn gorgeous.

Hands on his hips, he stared at her and fought the devil on his shoulder. Her bottom lip protruded in a mature pout. Her chin tilted up to him. He started to lose the fight when she started silently begging.

There were too many reasons not to pass up the opportunity to give her a good fucking. He found excuses for his lack of restraint.

She was willing. She was irresistibly sexy. He was overdue coming inside a moist, tight pussy.

She placed her hand just above his abs and slowly moved it up to his chest. A chill went down his spine.

The battered sweetheart in front of him needed a real man in her bed for once. And it would be a onetime deal. She would be in jail, and he would never see her again. No emotional attachment whatsoever.

She brought her hand to his face and lightly stroked it with her fingernails.

It would only take a half an hour. Then, he could get his money.

Only half an hour, he promised himself.

His eyes traveled back to her breasts then back up at her face. The corner of her mouth turned up a little. "Gotcha," she silently said to him.

He grabbed her arms and smashed her body against his. His mouth latched onto hers. There was no time to get to know each other with shy, playful kisses. She released his bottom lip and pulled away. "Come catch me," her teasing eyes said. He gripped her tightly and invaded her mouth with a violent kiss. She nipped him and backed up. The tugging game lasted until she pulled him into the bedroom. He followed her in, hands locked onto her breasts.

He took them away to pull his shirt off. She trailed kisses up and down his muscular chest. He wrapped his arms around her and released her bra within moments. She gasped, impressed by his talent, as he flung her bra aside. He sucked and kissed her neck as he unbuttoned her shorts. With a firm tug, they dropped to her ankles. He stuck his hand in her panties and moaned as his fingers traced the landing strip of hair going down to her saturated cunt. Her fingers dug into his biceps as he attacked her clit.

As soon as he pulled his hand out, they both went to undo his belt. He forced her away to unbuckle it himself. He threw his loose jeans and boxers down and for a second remembered the empty holster attached. A reminder to search for his gun before he left flashed in his mind and was quickly replaced by a glorified image of her exposed pussy. She kicked the panties away. They closed in on each other, touching, exploring. She squeezed his rigid dick and stepped back.

He winced as he bent over and searched the pockets in his jeans, hoping a condom would appear. She rolled her eyes and retrieved one from the nightstand. He took it cautiously. "Will he know one is missing?"

She shrugged. "Doubt it."

"Good." After he had the rubber on, he laid the wrapper on his jeans to take with him. The beaten wall behind her bed was a warning not to forget to take the evidence with him.

Felix advanced on her, kissing her, forcing her back to the bed. She put her hand in front of his face. "I have to be on top." She pointed to her back. "Stitches, remember? And that way I can control the speed. Don't want them popping out and why the hell did you flinch when I said 'control?'"

"I'm used to being the one with power," he said as he looked down on her.

She hesitated at his patronizing tone and had to control the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks. She took a deep breath, smiled, and stroked his face. "For once, let a lady take care of you." With one long sensual kiss, he reluctantly submitted and fell back to the bed. She straddled him and carefully rocked herself onto his dick. Once the friction eased into a smooth glide, she tilted her head back and smiled. She put her hands next to his head and lifted herself slowly. She fell back down, taking as much time as she could. He grimaced as she kept the slow, barely enjoyable rhythm. He bucked his hips up and down. She pushed him to the bed. "Don't!"

"Then stop teasing me," he said, threatening her with his eyes.

"I can do whatever I want," she snapped and continued the slow stroking.

He grabbed her wrists and gave them a firm shake. "Listen, sweetheart, if you don't stop that, I will throw you off and find another way to make you make me come." She struggled and broke free. With a glare, she went slower. He reached his hands up again, but in a sudden moment of strength, she pinned them over his head.




Claiming His Bounty Ch. 01



"If you're going to be a bad boy, then I might have to tie you down."

He raised his eyebrow. "Don't even think about it." She smiled wickedly, dismounted, and raced to his jeans. She held up the handcuffs. "You really think you could put those on me?" he said and laughed. She swung them around and came closer. A frown replaced his taunting smirk. "No."

In an immature tantrum, she threw them down and crossed her arms. "Please?" she asked with her perfected pout on her lips. He shook his head. "Then...can I use something else?" Another shake. "Just once? I've never done it before. And I know you'll do whatever I want because you like me."

Scowling, he agreed. "Just not the handcuffs."

"Yay!" She clapped and went to the open closet. She returned with two neckties and straddled him again.

"But I warn you, I'm not gonna like it."

Face inches from his, she retorted, "I don't care." She knotted the ties around his wrists and secured them to the wrought iron headboard. With a roll of his eyes, he tugged to prove how helpless he was. She giggled. "You've never been in this position before."

He looked her straight in the eye. "Neither have you." Her smile faded. The dominant position was foreign to her. Her lips tightened at his evaluation of her poor performance. She raised her hand and slapped him in the face.

His mouth opened, and his eyes blazed with anger. "Do that again, and-" Another firm slap. "You little fucking bitch."

"What are you going to do about it?" She rocked herself back and forth on his slightly less than firm dick. He growled at her.

"You are in so much trouble when this is over."

"What are you going to do about it? Spank me?"

His sly smile and hardening cock revived the energy between them. "That was the first thing I thought about doing." His face relaxed as her tight pussy quickly pumped his dick. The sudden rush of passion made his eyes roll back in his head.

"Can't let that happen..." she said as her jostling up and down started to wear her out. Her mind temporarily slipped from consciousness. 

Felix's eyes rested on the bouncing tits above him. He forgot about being bound and thought about biting and twisting her nipples until she yelped. The damn ties kept him down from attacking her. The quick, rasping yell of her coming brought him to his end. He tightened his jaws and let all of his built up frustration explode by coming hard and fast. He fell back to the bed when the last drop leaked out. She slowly collapsed on top of him and lay her head next to his. Her uneven breathing mellowed into a state of complete relaxation.

"Thank you for a good time," she whispered in his ear. "Sorry that you didn't like it."

"It was alright." Her smile was indifferent; she didn't take offense. He gulped and caught his breath. "But if there ever was a next time, it would be a lot different."

"How?" she asked while covering his neck with sweet kisses. 

"I would be in control. But I wouldn't slap you. That's just wrong." His honest words earned him a passionate kiss. "Are you going to release me now?"

The smug look on her face worried him. "Depends. Promise you're not gonna spank me like you said?"

He equaled her rotten face with a smirk. "Promise." But she only left his straddled and crossed her arms. His arrogance was replaced with fear. He started tugging the ties from the headboard, hoping for a chance. She laughed and undid the knots. His lips tightened at her joke. He looked her up and down and settled on her petite ass while he left to clean up in the bathroom. He returned, only putting on his boxers and lay on the bed, hands under his head. She stretched herself next to him, avoiding putting weight on her left side.

"Tell me," she said as she placed her hand on his chest, "if we ever had the chance to do this again, what would it be like?"

"For all the grief you've given me, you would be tied up tight. Blindfolded. Gagged. Taken in all three holes. I would make you listen to me. And I don't care how you would feel about it. That's just how I do things," he said with a nod.

"Mmm..." She caressed his torso. "If only..." Her chest started to heave at his words. Her cunt was ready for another round. The thought of him using her, mercilessly, stirred up old, repressed, lusts that were locked away. She had to keep her excitement at bay. She tried to ignore what he said.

"You're a real man, mister. I wish my man was more like you." She sat up and traced the lines of his muscles. "Stay here for a bit. I need to get pretty for my mug shot."

He put off dressing. All he wanted to do was fantasize about the uncoordinated, yet satisfying, sex they had. He was too spent to build up a fantasy with her starring as the little slut bound and helpless. He gave up and rested. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her approach him. She leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss. One second later, he felt a pinch in his neck. Everything went blurry. Then everything went black.

~

There were three different voices: two men and one female. Felix opened his eyes. The morning sun was shining brightly through the window. He then realized his hands were in different handcuffs secured to the headboard.

"Shit..." he whispered and rattled the cuffs in a desperate attempt to break free. A man appeared in the doorway. The nausea hit him hard. He knew exactly who the strange man was. The boyfriend. His dark, hating eyes, cropped blonde hair, tats, and straight spine gave it away. With his head held high, he walked to the bed. Behind him, Carry stood in the doorway. There was no emotion in her face as she walked up next to the psychotic sadist. Felix glared at them.

The boyfriend turned and put his muscular arm around Carry. "Good work, babe," he said and kissed the side of her head. Only Felix saw her flinch. "Hope you enjoyed my girlfriend." The man nodded to the other side of the room. She obediently walked out of Felix's sight. He bent over at the bed. "Now, I know she likes to talk. And whatever she told you, you will forget. I'm gonna let you live. But if you decide to talk, I will remove your nut sack with pliers. Understand?" Felix grimly nodded. "Good. I knew he would listen," he said and ruffled up Felix's hair.

Carry came into sight, looking through his wallet. "Thank you for the car...Felix." She smiled as she clamped the wallet shut.

"Let's go," the boyfriend said.

"You bitch!" Felix screamed at her. She gave him one last smirk before disappearing. The boyfriend laughed and left the room. "You can't leave me here!" he screamed after them. He heard the front door shut and then silence. "No dammit!" He jerked the cuffs roughly. There was no way for him to escape on his own. "No..."

"HELP!" he screamed, hoping someone would hear him and rescue him before he died chained to the bed. "HELP!" The panic created wimpy tears.

"HEEELLLLPPP!"

To be continued.



Claiming His Bounty Ch. 02



He looked down at his drink and swirled his finger around the rim. The pretty woman next to him kept her hand on his knee.

"I thought they were gonna kill me then and there. Instead, they cuffed me to the bed and left me there to die slowly. Day one, I knew that I was going to die. There was no hope. Days passed. I lost track of them. I was starving, thirsty, hallucinating. It was painful. It's the worst thing you can do to a human."

"Were you scared?" she asked.

Felix shook his head. "I accepted my death. Sure, it was going to be painful. But I didn't break down."

"You poor guy. How did you escape?"

"After about a week and so close to death, I used my last bit of strength to call for help. An elderly lady was passing by the house and heard me. It was a strange coincidence that it was the same lady I helped across the street only a couple weeks before. She called the cops and saved my life. The doctors said it was lucky she found me in time. I was only hours away from death."

The woman gasped. Her hand held his knee tighter. "You are so brave. I wish I was that brave." Still studying the drink in front of him, he nodded with small smile. "What were you thinking as you were dying?"

"Dying?" Marv roared with laughter as he came up to the bar next to Felix. In his arms were more folders of recent skips. Felix didn't attempt to stop him. "Let me tell you the real story. It's so fucking hilarious. So he fucks this woman who knocks him out and ties him to the bed. When he wakes up, her boyfriend threatens him and leaves him chained up. Two hours later, the police come to the door 'cause the neighbors complained about some psycho yelling his head off for help. The police barge in and find him screaming and bawling."

The woman rolled her eyes and took her drink to another part of the bar. Felix stared at his beer. "Why did you have to do that?"

"'Cause you have more jobs. You fucked up letting that bitch run. You owe me." He shoved three folders in front of him. "Stop thinking with your dick and bring in these skips." Marv left with the glare that hadn't subsided in two weeks.

He flipped through the folders. One of them had information of another young female in trouble. He cringed at her mug shot. She was ugly as hell. There wasn't any temptation with her. He could easily ward off any of her seductive moves. As he gulped down his beer and waited to sober up a bit, he took notes on which fugitive to take in first. He gathered the folders and shivered when the chilly wind helped sober him up on his way to his crappy rental car. He didn't attempt to report that his car was stolen. The douche's reminder was still fresh in his mind. The thought of his ball sack being castrated with pliers was motivation for any man to keep quiet. But that wasn't the main thing that bothered him the most about two weeks ago.

He was played by a beautiful girl. Her lovely mouth spewed lies just to get out of trouble. He refused to believe all of her stories were untruthful. The fear of her boyfriend was obvious. The reason why she returned to that sadist was a mystery he half-heartedly tried to solve. He wanted to believe that the sex wasn't a lie, that she wanted him. Every night since, when he lay in his bed at night, lonely and confused, he searched every moment with her, trying to find a clue that she was sincere. Marv was right. That bitch was just looking for a way out.

His phone rang just as his hand was on the door handle. He pulled it from his pocket. On the lit screen were the words, "unknown number." He answered it anyway.

"Hello?"

"Felix?" a woman said.

"Yeah, who is this?"

"It's Carry. Remember a couple weeks ago?" His lips tightened. "You were trying to take me in-"

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Please, I need your help." He heard desperation and fear in her trembling voice.

But he laughed. "Last time you needed my help you fucking lied to me. What makes you think I'll believe you now?"

"Please...I'm in so much trouble. My life is in danger!" She was a good actress. It sounded real.

"Fuck you."

"Please..." she whined and broke into sobs.

"Goodbye..."

"Felix! Wait!" He ended the call.

He shook his head. "Little fucking liar." He laughed at her lame cry for help and kept laughing as he drove home.

~

The next morning, Felix entered Marv's Bail Bonds to collect more information on the next young lady he planned to arrest. She was slipperier than the slut he slept with. No one knew where she was. As soon as he walked through the door, Marv jogged up to him.

"She was here!"

"Who was?"

"The bitch! Carry...um...Wild-"

"What the fuck? Why the hell-"

"She was looking for you. She was fuckin messed up. Her face was all bruised. Looks like someone gave her a good pounding. I couldn't catch her. She ran away fast."

Felix stared off to the side, thinking. "What did she want?"

"You, apparently. She was hysterical asking for you. She must be in real trouble. I don't think anyone could fake fear like that."

"You really think she's in danger?"

"Hundred percent sure. You better go catch her. Then bring her in. I want my money," he said with a growl and started to walk to his office.

"Did you ask where she was going?"

"I did. She replied, 'the morgue.'" Felix ran to his car and tossed the other skips' folders to the passenger seat. He searched his recent calls on his phone and tried the unknown number. Carry didn't answer. He called another number.

"Ello."

"Jay, I need you to work your magic. It's an emergency."

"Who's the skip and what's his number?"

~

With luck and skill, Felix found Carry's last location only a couple hours later. While waiting, he researched what he could about the boyfriend. The creep had a warrant for his arrest along with a long rap sheet full of past arrests. All but one of the charges was mysteriously dropped. One DUI put him in jail for not even a month.

Jay called with an address. It was half an hour out of the city, in the middle of nowhere and at the end of a dirt road. Felix closed his laptop after he scribbled down the directions. He attached his gun to his belt and headed for the highway.

He weaved through the traffic and flew down the semi-paved streets of a low class neighborhood. The spacing between houses grew wider, and the road turned to dirt and rock. He slowed as he made a right on the street that led him to Carry's location. He kept the car at a crawl and stopped when the house came into view. Behind thick trees, he parked his car.

He hid behind overgrown bushes and crept down the long driveway. Ahead was a small house with one parked car in the front. At the end of some bordering hedges, he stay crouched and waited for sound or movement. No one was in the front yard. He made his way to the backyard which extended to a small forest with wild, dry brush taking over. Low to the ground, he moved to the house and shrunk under an opened window. He heard voices but couldn't make out what they were saying. He went to another open window in the next room over. He peered over the sill.

The house barely contained furniture and was almost gone to hell from lack of maintenance. Past the rotten doorframe of that room, he saw into the hallway. The boyfriend and two other men were discussing something in low, angry voices. Carry stood close by. She kept her eyes low. The boyfriend turned to her and asked a question. Felix could see her mouth "fuck you" to him. With a well practiced backhand, he struck her face. She cried out and caught herself on the wall behind her. He grabbed her arm and led her into the room. Felix ducked.

"Sundown," the boyfriend said, "I'm gonna take this knife and slit your throat. And I'm gonna keep going until your head comes off." She didn't make a sound. "Tie her up. Once I get the call that the cop's house in up in flames, our little Judas is next."

Felix heard multiple footsteps fade away after they finished tying her and popped his head up. Carry sat in a chair, hands tied behind the back, head down and trembling. Knowing her fate was sealed, she didn't bother bawling or begging for her life. She stayed limp and quietly weeping.

"Carry," he whispered. She raised her head and looked around. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. "I'm gonna get you out of here." Her quivering lips smiled. The last tear fell from her glossy eyes. He put his hand up, signaling her to wait. He leaned against the wall and searched his pockets. His useful tools were a gun and a pocketknife on his keychain. He was tempted to kick the door in and start shooting. He looked for a distraction instead.

He moved to the backyard and spotted an old charcoal barbeque. Propped against its legs was a bag of charcoal. Partially hidden in the shadows next to it was a container of charcoal lighter fluid. He smiled and quickly headed back to his car. Matchbox in hand, he went back down the driveway and stealthily circled her capture's car, letting his pocketknife rip through each tire.

Through the living room window, he could see two men smoking and talking casually. The TV blared in front of them. The boyfriend paced as he kept his cell to his ear. Felix moved around the house again and quickly checked on Carry. Her leg shook impatiently as she looked around the room. He snuck into the backyard and peered through the glass back door. Part of the kitchen blocked the living room and their view of the backyard. He dashed past the door and picked up the quarter full container.

He soaked four bundles of dry bushes with the lighter fluid and dropped a lit match into each one. He ran to the edge of the house and waited. It seemed to take forever for the flames to reach a few feet high. He held his breath and got ready, remembering that he had only seconds to get her out.

"Holy fuck! The yard's on fire!" one of the men shouted. He saw all three men scramble out the back door. He turned and threw himself into the window. Carry's breathing went shallow as he cut away her ties.

"Put the damn thing out!" the boyfriend yelled.

She grasped Felix's wrist and led him into the hallway and out the front door. They ran. Felix slowed to keep Carry in his sight, keeping his arm out for her to hang onto. She grabbed his hand as the first gunshot rang out. They flinched and ducked. Felix yanked her to the side of the driveway and threw her in front of him. She saw his car and sprinted for the passenger door. Another bang pierced the air. She fell in front of the door, then popped up and jerked the door open. He made sure she was in before he darted around the back and into the driver's seat. Carry got a glimpse of the three men running down the driveway at them while he turned on the engine. As they raised their guns to them, Felix made a hard left and barreled down the road.

"You gotta go faster!" Carry said as she looked through the back window, just making out the three men running back to their car.

"I slashed their tires. They're not leaving for a while."

She faced forward and sighed heavily, then shook as buckled her seat belt. "Where are we going?"

"Where do you think? Boss is pissed at me for letting you go."

"No please! Don't!"

"Why?"

"We're both dead if you take me in." But he turned left on the highway back to town. "I'm serious. I talked and have an execution coming my way. You helped me. He'll track you down and make it hurt."

The ball sack and pliers threat flashed in his mind. "Then what's your plan?"

"We gotta hide." She peered through the window and bit her thumbnail. "They've got warrants. If we tip them off, anonymously, we can wait until they're arrested."

"Then you'll promise to go to jail like a good girl?"

She frowned and sunk in her seat. "Sure," she said meekly.

He pulled to the shoulder of the highway and waited for a few cars to pass. He made a u-turn and stopped on the other side. "I know a place where we can go. But first, get out," he said as he opened the door and stepped out. She frowned in confusion and watched as he walked around the back of the car. He opened her door and waved for her to get out. "Turn around."

"Wha-" He slammed her body against the car and pulled her wrists back into handcuffs. "What the hell? Ouch!" He flung her around.

"This is because I don't trust you." They glared each other down as she sat in her seat. With a mocking smile, he slammed the door. Carry squirmed to try to get comfortable and grunted when he started up the engine.

"Don't you care about my safety?" she asked with an equally sarcastic grin.

"Since you asked so nicely..." He reached over and yanked her seatbelt across her.

"Thank you," she said as he roughly buckled her in. "Are you gonna tell me where we are going?"

"My friend has a property I can use as a safe house whenever I'm in trouble. We'll hide there." He picked up his cell from the middle compartment. "In the mean time, let's put that sociopath behind bars."

One hour passed, and they were still on the two lane highway with desert on each side and rest stops every twenty miles. Carry shifted in her seat and whined.

"What?" he asked.

"We have to stop at the next place that has a restroom. I really gotta piss."

He shook his head. "You'll wait until we get there. I can't risk you escaping."

"You gotta be fuckin kidding me! That's like an hour away! I can't wait that long. Can't you just pull over to the side and let me piss behind a cactus?" The car stayed straight on the road. He remained silent, ending the conversation. She looked out the window. "Fine."

"Wait, what do you mean...fine?" She let her body loosen up and took a few deep breaths. "What are you doing?" A small giggle escaped her lips. She closed her eyes. "This is a rental! You fucking bitch!" The taunting laughter continued as she 

finished. "You're gonna pay for that!"

"Yeah, sure."

His lips tightened. He wished he could make her pay. Thoughts of punishing her severely – humiliation, whipping, forcing himself on her – entertained his mind. Then he glanced at her face. Bruises marked the left side. The rest of her body was unblemished. He remembered how beautiful she was under her tomboyish clothes. Her perfect tits. Her wet cunt. Her moans. The memories came back to him. He looked back at her face. His anger turned into frustrated lust. He needed another chance with her. 

He checked the GPS on his phone. The property was a few miles away. They left the highway then traveled down narrow, dirt roads and ascended windy paths over a lone hill. On the other side were trees and the beginning of a rural town where the desert ended. His friend's property was at the outskirts, isolated by thick, shady trees. At the end of the long driveway was a barn like building with a trailer next to it. He helped her out of the car, glaring at the stain on the seat and on her shorts, then released her from the cuffs.

"Don't you dare run. You'll be staying in shackles the rest of the time we're here. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," she mocked him. He opened the door to the windowless barn converted to an open and modern space with concrete floors and paneled walls. Using the outdoor light behind him, he groped for a light switch to illuminate the room. Overhead florescent lights went from dim to bright. They faced the whole room, stunned.

"What does your friend do for a living?" Carry asked.

"Chemistry teacher."

She stepped farther into the room. "Right." She meandered around the equipment, lovingly running her finger along her favorites and lightly rustling the chains.

"What the hell is this place?" Felix asked.

"It's a dungeon," she said with a smile.

"I think I've figured that. I just," he put his hands on his hips and looked around, "will never look at that guy the same way again." Her angelic smile and blushing cheeks caught his attention. "Why do you look so happy?"

"Oh, just remembering my days as a submissive."

"You were into this kind of thing?"

"Old boyfriends...old masters..." she explained as she put her hands behind her back. Her eyes rested on the floor. Her head was slightly bowed. She fidgeted, shyly, under his gaze and bit her lip. Her eyes flicked up to his.

The corner of his mouth turned up. "Tell me about these things," he said as he motioned around the room only decorated with sconces on the walls.

The seductive smile returned to her cute face. "Well, this place is used for sessions – play, sex, giving and receiving punishment." She strode to the front and turned, ready to give an impromptu lecture. "Sometimes these play times are temporary. Master and slave are only master and slave for the session. Others do this twenty-four seven."

"What was it like for you?"

"I've had both." She placed her hands on the first piece of furniture. "This is a swing. You've probably seen one before. Pretty vanilla unless you're gagged and bound to the bars. That's a different experience." She skipped to another part of the room.

"Now, this is awesome!" In the corner was a human-sized birdcage set on the floor. "I gotta try this out sometime," she said as she gripped the bars and imagined herself, naked and punished, feeling the bite of the cold metal bars as she tried to get comfortable, looking at the world from a bird's view in the suspended cage.

Next to that one was another coop, small and confined. She got on all fours. "This is where bad puppies are kept," she said with an innocent pout. He laughed quietly as she rose and went on to the next piece. "And I don't have to tell you what this is."

"It's a jail cell."

She entered and closed the door. The pout was still on her face. "How could you possibly put this cute girl in jail?" His eyes went from her beautiful, sulking lips to her boobs smashed against the thick bars. "Well, if I piss you off, you'll know where to put me." Her eyes lit up when she saw the next piece.

"Or..." She hopped out and stood before a large 'x' against a wall. With a graceful twirl, she placed her back to it and stretched her limbs. "I could spend some time on St. Andrew's Cross." She stepped forward and spun, plastering her tight abs against the solid metal frame. "You'd probably like this side more," she said over her shoulder, "so you can take the whip to me."

She skipped away to the next point of interest. "Or you can punish me differently. You could give that spanking you were talking about." She bent over a bench, giving him a view of her backside. The piss stain was in plain view. His annoyance with her returned. An impish giggle came out of her when she looked back and saw the glower on his face. She nodded her head to the other side of the room. "There are other kneelers and horses you could use as well to bind me and leave me in agony for hours." She snapped back up and sat on an odd shaped chair, crossing her legs suggestively. "You could use your imagination on how you want to display me. You have quite a variety here." She waved her hand, showcasing the other chairs and a tilting table. "And don't forget the stocks and yokes. Oh, and that trap box." She scowled and approached it but caressed it as a sentimental smile grew wide on her face, giving away how much she loved the humiliation. "I had to stay in a box like this for a few hours. I was a really bad girl that day."

"What did you do?"

"I told my Master to fuck off."

The cuss word coming out of her sweet mouth seemed dirty and wrong. Innocence seemed to pour from her fragile, tiny body. But he knew the slut hidden inside. The more he looked through the false façade, the more he lusted for her. His dick started to swell.

"Oh!" She ran to a rack holding implements. Eyes wide with terror and excitement, she stroked the paddles and took a flogger. She held her arm out, caressing the tails of the whip over it. In a quick flick of her other arm, she struck the pale flesh above her wrist. Her chest heaved, and she suppressed a moan.




Claiming His Bounty Ch. 02



His cock was fully erect. "You like pain?"

Her smile disappeared. "Only when it's my idea. I draw the line at being punched and slashed with a knife." She placed the whip back.

He needed an escape before she saw the tent he pitched. The swelling was painful. He wanted to throw her to the floor and take her whether she wanted it or not. Knowing that she would like that made the twitching more agonizing.

"I'm gonna look for some food and other stuff we'll be needing," he mumbled and headed for the trailer.

Sighing, she gazed at the dungeon before her. Memories hit her hard. It was a life that was out of reach. Her boyfriend was too sadistic to be trusted. Trying to get him into the lifestyle of pain and bondage was far from safe. The want to be a submissive again made her shudder as the overdue needs built up into frustrated tears. Her blurred eyes saw the chest at the end of the room she didn't see before. Curious, she knelt in front of it and opened the top.

"Hmm." Through the mess of toys was a folded leather outfit. She pulled it out. It was feminine and covered a lot of skin. It wasn't a costume for play; it was more like everyday attire for a slave. It looked to be more comfortable than her piss-soaked shorts.

~

Felix finished reheating a couple cans of baked beans and located bowls and utensils. The whole time he stayed in the trailer, he silently yelled at his dick to go soft. He wanted her. But the stress, pent up anger, fear, and exhaustion of what happened earlier battled his sexual will. Mentally, he didn't feel up for seducing her even though physically he felt he could pound her for the next few hours.

Balancing their meal in his arms, he returned to the dungeon and paused when his eyes went directly to the middle of the leather clad slut in front of him. Her legs were encased in tight pants. Her breasts were girdled in a black corset. Hands behind her back, she shifted side to side, coyly taking peeks at him. "Well, I had to get out of those wet shorts. Very uncomfortable."

He smirked and sat on the floor. "And that's comfortable?"

"For me? Yes." She took the bowl he offered and sat next to him. "How long will we have to stay here?"

"Until my buddy calls and confirms that the psycho is in jail."

She nodded. "Good." For the rest of their meal, she kept her eyes on the room; he kept his eyes on her. She sipped from a water bottle and placed the empty bowl aside. She stretched and headed for a message table. Stomach side down, she lay and rested her head on her arms. "I'm gonna take a nap, k?" For the first time in years, she felt safe. The comfort of the dungeon, her sanctuary, helped her sleep.

After a couple hours of rest, her eyes opened and adjusted to the dim light. Shadows were cast on the walls by the flickering flames of primitive style torches attached to them. The next thing she noticed were her wrists firmly secured to the bottom of the table. She yanked them, but all she could hear was the clinking of metal as she tried to rip her arms away. There were attached by handcuffs. She looked side to side. Her hair matted up in front of her, tickling her lips and nose and obstructing her view.

She looked straight up when she movement out of the corner of her eye. "You know, I'm still mad about you pissing in my car." His face wasn't in view, but the whip that he twirled in his hand was eye level. "And you're going to pay for your immaturity."

"Wait! Felix-"

"Shh. Don't speak, love. You trust me, right?" He smoothed some of the hair out of her face.

She trembled. "Right."

"Say that again. This time, be respectful." In her hesitation, the lashes hit her thigh and bit through the leather.

"Ouch! What do you want me to say?"

"Respond with 'Yes, Sir.'"

"Uh...yes, Sir?"

One corner of his lips lifted in wicked grin. "I, too, know a little about this. Never really got a chance to experience it, but sure watched a hell of a lot of it when I didn't have a pussy available." He paced in front of her. Her eyes followed the whip. "And now, finally, I have an opportunity." He squatted to her level. "You've been a very bad girl. And I'm gonna make sure you feel every bit of frustration you have put me through."

Breaking through the nervousness – her trembling, dry throat, shallow breathing – was an intense need for him to satisfy her desires. He could clearly see the plea in her eyes. He gave her a solid nod, a promise that he was going to take care of her. "You don't know how badly I've wanted to do this," he said, for a second letting his vulnerability show. He pulled away from her field of view, standing on her left side. The whip hit the ground with soft thump. He raised his arm and smiled as he dropped it with great velocity across her ass. The loud whack echoed throughout the room. Her body jolted. She exhaled heavily and tensed, anticipating another hit.

He moaned as he kept his hand cupped to her ass. He felt himself at the edge of letting go. He spanked her again, hard. Her breathing came out in labored gulps as the pain that she was craving for so long caused her cunt to leak. He brought his arm down again. And again. Then twice. And three more times. He could feel her body quiver under his hand that he pressed against her ass. The throbbing in her cunt was becoming unbearable.

He shook his head. "These," he tugged at her pants, "need to come off." He dug his hands under her hips and pulled the ties that kept them up. Hands gripping both sides, he slid them down and off of her legs. "Wow," he whispered when he saw the scarlet patch where he struck her. He smiled at the warmth beneath his palm. "You have no idea-"

"You may continue if you want, Sir."

"I was planning on continuing!" he growled. "You are still far in debt. I have to finish the spanking you deserve." Her whimpering made him rock hard. He squeezed her ass roughly until she yelped. In a fury, he let his hand cover her, left and right, with prints that burned white to pink. Top to bottom on each side, he sent strikes to four spots with a force that left her kicking and wailing.

Smack!

"Do you like this, you little bitch?"

Smack!

"Yes, Sir!" she yelled as she gasped for air.

Smack!

"Are you sorry for what you did?"

Smack smack!

"Yes, Sir, yes!"

Smack!

"You ready for your next punishment?"

Three more solid smacks to her beaten flesh.

"Yes, please punish me, Sir!"

One final SMACK left her shuddering and wet.

He unhooked her arms from the table. "On your knees." She scrambled to the floor and knelt on the hard ground. Her head hung in respect to her new master. He stood before her and fumbled at his jeans, releasing the button and shoving both them and his boxers down. "Get to it, sweetheart," he said, not at all endearing.

Her eyes shot up to his rigid, quivering cock. She straightened her back. The bead of precum threatened to drip. She licked the tip in a slow swipe and swallowed the delectable drop. She dared a peek at him. His eyes were closed, a pretentious smile was on his lips, and his body twitched with anticipation.

With the tip of her tongue, she traced a thin line of spit over his head, flicking at the hole at the end for more droplets, then followed the underside down the shaft to his sack. She trailed it back up, leaving a wetter trace, and wrapped her hand around the base.

He grimaced. She didn't understand that his needs had to met right away. He gave her hand a harmless slap. She whined and dropped it, taking the insult personally. He twisted her hair around his fingers into a tight grip. He pushed his dick into her lips, forcing them open, shoving himself fully in. He buckled at her teeth scraping him and yanked her hair hard as a warning. Her jaw went limp and accepted him nearly entering her throat.

He felt powerful in his new position and smiled as his masculine, primal urges and fantasies would be taken care of by the slut who was gagging on his cock. He slid almost all the way out, then jammed back into her with a solid thrust. She cried out and gripped his legs. She breathed in as much as she could through her nose. Understanding that his new slave had a strong gag reflex, he thrust again. Her nails dug deeper into his thighs; his hands pulled her hair tighter.

He allowed her a brief moment to catch her breath. He jerked her head to where her mouth was align with his dick and brought her to his member. With little thrusts of his own, he fucked her mouth, faster, making her panic for breath. His cock twitched, and without warning, squirted cum straight to the back of her mouth. Her moans were muffled and drawn out as she struggled to gulp down every bit.

"Fuck yeah," he muttered as he celebrated his victory conquering her. He released her. She fell back and caught herself with one hand. The other wiped her mouth.

Arrogant and spent, he gazed down upon his abused and horny slave. His face was hard and cold but inside, he was euphoric. Jeans back up and zipped, he swooped down and grabbed her arm. He groped the corset, trying to tear it off.

"Let me, Master." She gently pushed his hands away. The laces whipped through the leather in controlled strokes as she pulled the ties through. He tore the corset off and threw it out of the way. He gave each naked nipple a firm, twisting pinch. The gasp from her energized his need for more.

"Come, slut. You're going on the...cross thing." He dragged her by a nipple to the 'X' on the wall.

"St. Andrew's Cross," she corrected him.

He yanked her to him by her tits. "I didn't give you permission to speak!" She ducked her head, wincing as she forgot her place. The subservience was more of a turn on for him each passing second. He pressed her stomach to the cold surface of the cross. She sucked in her breath. Before he bound her to it, he noticed the hideous scar on her back, the one he helped sew up. He grunted loudly, annoyed that he couldn't bring himself to add more injury to her already damaged back.

"Turn around," he commanded in a deep voice with a hint of a beastly growl. Obediently, she turned and stretched her limbs. He pinned her wrists and ankles to the cross with leather straps. He stepped back and saw how she perfectly portrayed a humiliated slave. Her hands hung limp from their bindings. Her head remained bowed. She looked helpless and weak. 

He picked up the whip and went back to her. Her breasts heaved while she studied the familiar object he swung like a pendulum, back and forth, teasing her. He searched her stunning body for the first part to mark. The landing strip she kept neatly trimmed two weeks ago was gone and left bare. If he had a third chance with her, 

there would be rules on shaving.

Pacing, he looked for where to strike. Without a clue or a warning, he swung at her cunt. She jolted, gasped, and sighed when the pain became pleasure. The burning blemishes were bright. He loved watching the colors turn on her pale skin. He swung harder.

He was proud that his slut could take the pain. There was no begging or tears. Her lips parted; a soft moan came out. Using the handle, he nudged her head up. She was miserable; her need for release grew with each second he denied her. Her slippery and stinging cunt was ready to explode. He closed in on her, trailed kisses from her cheek to her shoulder, and stepped back for a quick lash across her breasts. The cross rattled from her shaking in frustration.

"What's wrong, love?"

"I really, really need to be fucked, Master." Her agony and pleading tried to conquer the rules of nature and harden his just spent cock. He needed rest first. And her punishment wasn't over. He ignored her and whipped her breasts again. She buckled from the sharp lick of the spread of lashes. The pain from each hit created more juices. The whip stung and scorched her tits as the thrashing continued. Through gritted teeth, she groaned, grunted, and cursed. She never wanted him to stop. The pain was an old friend she dearly missed. The last hit nearly sent her into coming as it flicked her heated, welted breasts.

He tossed the whip to another table and came back, swiping his fingers across her slick cunt. Her body collapsed and her knees buckled; the leather ties kept her up. She caught him smiling. He kept grinning at her, then left, disappearing in the shadows. The only sound was her shuddered breathing and the creaking of the cross as she trembled. The silence was unnerving. His departure left her scared. But she didn't call for him. She did what she used to do when bound. Like a good girl, she waited.

The most difficult part was being left turned on. For years, she practiced staying still without panicking or crying out. She was proud of that accomplishment. Her Masters bragged about it too. It was being on the edge that made staying still an obstacle. Her eyes closed, her breathing steadied, her imaginative mind switched on and entertained her. Hours elapsed. Moments of fear of being alone came suddenly and every once in a while, yet she fought each one and was victorious. She vowed not to lose to anxiety.

The forth hour passed. Her eyes stayed closed for minutes at a time, imagining tranquility and a blissful life of safety. When she opened them, he was standing in front of her, curiously watching her. He cupped her face and kissed her with passion and love. Her debt was paid. It was time for him to claim his bounty - the gorgeous woman in front of him.

One limb after another, he broke her ties. She stretched and loosened her muscles. She fell into his arms. He led her to a rug and set her under him. He took a minute to ready himself then leaned over her. There were no smirks or rough control, only her Master gently gliding in and out of her. He stayed low and crushed to her body so he could kiss her face and stroke her soft hair.

She turned her head to him every once in a while, then turned back to the side and moaned when he hit the right spot. She lifted her legs a bit, making the friction overwhelming. She shook under his body as hers became electrified and her juices gushed around him.

He never wanted it to end, keeping in mind that he couldn't have her again. But the warmth and tightening of her pussy was too good. He clamped his jaw as he expelled for an amazing few seconds. She smiled, knowing he was pleased with her. When they looked in each other's eyes, they knew they couldn't let the other one go.

He rolled off to the side, put his hands behind his head, and relaxed as she left to clean herself first. After it was his turn to clean up, he returned from the trailer and found her in a tank and leather pants, lying on her side on the rug. He put his jeans back on and lay next to her. She stroked his naked chest until she fell asleep.

Soon after, his cell rang. The boyfriend and his minions were arrested. He thanked his friend and tossed the phone to the side. Arm tightly around her, he worked on a plan for their escape. Taking her to jail was no longer an option. His drowsiness got to him before he could finish figuring out the details.

~

"Wake up!" The order was loud and startled them. "Get up, both of you!"

Felix woke up to two cops leaning over them. He felt Carry jerk into sitting up and heard her gasp, almost a scream. He showed the police his hands seeing that theirs were on their holsters. She clung to him.

"Felix..." she whimpered.

"Just do what they saw and don't speak." Tears started pouring from her eyes. "It will be ok, baby." He didn't have a chance to kiss her goodbye. They were taken away, their wrists in handcuffs, to opposite sides of the room. Two other cops searched the room, blushing from the equipment inside.

He didn't say a word as the cops questioned him and only looked over at Carry, who sobbed but didn't speak. All he could think about was her and how much trouble they were both in. He waited for the chance to call out to her.

When she was in range, he yelled to her. "Carry!" The tears still dropped from her eyes when she looked up at him. "Wait for me."

He knew it would be a long time until he saw her again, until he would get to touch her. Prison time was definite. It was painful knowing that he lost.

She gave him a sweet smile. "I promise, Master." He smiled back and watched her being loaded into the car. He believed her vow to be true. She was his. And he wasn't going to let anything come in between them.

To be continued.



Claiming His Bounty Ch. 03



Felix placed letter after letter, neatly on top of each other, in the box given to him. Two years of letters, one for each week, filled his container. Each one held her scent, her lovely handwriting, her seductive words, her crimson kiss next to her signature.

"Love, Yours Only, Your slave."

He folded up the last letter with a smile and set it on top of the others. He read them over and over, especially the ones which she explained how she pleasured herself while only thinking of him. All written words; no pictures of her pretty face.

But his time was finally up. He was hours away until he could see her again for the first time since the police put cuffs on them and broke them apart.

"Whatcha gonna do to her first?"

His cellmate was already far away in his fantasies. He swiped a few of the letters for his own personal use. He claimed he knew everything about Carry only from reading her words.

"Don't know yet, Bruce."

"Well," he said, salivating already, "you could start by punishing her for letter seventy-two."

Felix remembered letter seventy-two well. It was the only time she disobeyed him. She played with herself without permission. A wicked smile came to his face. He was still forming the plan in his mind on how to punish her. His one box was packed, and he was ready to spring from the bars that held him for two years. As the guard opened the door, he nodded to his cellmate. "Later."

"See ya on the outside."

"Yeah, in fifty years. Sure."

"Give her a good one for me!" he called out as Felix walked away.

"Like I want to think of you, you fucking disgusting slob," he muttered.

It took half an hour for him to see the sun without prison garb on. He smiled at the sky and inhaled deeply. It was all over for him. It was time for a new life. With her.

He waited for the bus, still thinking of her. He would have given anything to see and touch her that moment. But the bus trip was four hours to get to his new apartment, and he would arrive at night. Then the next day would be the day he had been waiting for. She wasn't free yet. She still had three months to serve. Every second was excruciating not being able to touch her. At least the next day, he'll get to see her face.

He boarded the bus and kept his eyes out the window and his mind on the past. That one last day with her, everything started going right. He was in love. Then everything went wrong in an instant, but at least she was safe. He never saw her after they were arrested. Bail was denied for them both. That was a given. Felix knew that his bounty hunting days were over. The judge made that clear while she snarled at him, lecturing him, telling him that he was a danger to society for helping criminals get away. There was no mercy in her hateful wrinkled face, only fiery eyes proving her determination to uphold the law. He got two years. She made sure to comment that he was fortunate she couldn't give him more. He hung his head on the way to prison. He had no fight left in him.

All he cared about was Carry's safety. Soon after, he found out that she made a deal and traded information that put her psychotic boyfriend and his friends away for life for a reduced sentence. That's when the letters started.

They wrote back and forth religiously. Their relationship blossomed through written words. He was becoming her Master. She was becoming his submissive. Three weeks in, he started setting rules. She obeyed them as if he were in her cell, towering over her, whip in hand. Even hundreds of miles away, he knew she was being honest about following his laws. He loved how poetic her scribing was. She disclosed every detail of how she rubbed her juices over her clit and begged in whispers, "Master, let me come!" 

His penned voice wasn't artistic yet it was perfectly commanding and strong. She could hear his firm words, "Wait until lights out Tuesday night, then come for me and lick your fingers clean."

Then letter seventy-two happened. Her arousal overpowered her. She submitted to the devil that night and not to her Master. He could see the stains that marked the paper from the regretful tears she cried as she wrote her apology. In return, she received a curt note that week, a guarantee that he wouldn't forget to punish her for it.

His mind returned to the present. The blazing tangerine sun starting disappearing, painting the sky in colors too beautiful for an undeserving world. He made the empty promise to watch every sunrise and sunset until his last breath, one of many superficial vows people make once their punishment had ended. By the time he switched to the city bus, the glowing stars and city lights became his distraction from dwelling more into the past. Twenty minutes later on the road and after three blocks of walking, he was at his new home set up for him by his friends. Marv wasn't one of them. He had more hatred for him than sympathy because of his costly recklessness. Felix didn't bother asking for help from him. He knew he couldn't ask for his job back if he wanted to. With a revoked bounty hunting license and a prison record, he was dumped into the unemployed world, practically starting over. As important as the job search would be, it had to wait until he saw Carry first.

He found the key in its hiding spot and opened the door to his new apartment. The sudden freedom overwhelmed him, although he was far too tired to celebrate. He took a hot shower for an hour, made himself a simple peanut butter sandwich, then crashed to his bed and was still too exhausted to jerk off thinking of his beautiful sub. He quickly fell into a deep sleep.

~

The spell of drowsiness was still heavy on him when he woke up. He chugged down piping hot coffee, shaved, and made himself as presentable as possible. The excitement made his heart race. He was nervous, hyper, and terrified all at once. He found his beat-up yet working car in its assigned space and hit the road. 

Reentering a prison brought on the nausea. He cringed and shivered but sucked it up as he sat a table in a room full of boyfriends, husbands, sisters, and children. He lightly drummed his hands on the table, waiting. He stared at a clock for a long minute. Still waiting. The next two minutes felt like a hundred had passed.

The door opened, and one by one, the women came into the room. Felix anxiously searched each one for his angel -- the petite blonde with a sweet smile and innocent face.

Her sapphire eyes lit up and her lips curved into a wide smile. He stood, smiling, as she skipped to him. Her bangs grew out. Her wavy hair hadn't been cut and hung to her waist. Her tiny build remained small. And her still gorgeous tits were greeting him through a hideous, grey uniform. She slipped her arms around his neck and hung onto him tight.

"Wilder!" a guard snapped.

She slowly retreated while longingly gazing at her Master. He held the same pain in his eyes; the need to touch her everywhere was worse than ever. He needed to feel that she was alive. They sat on the edge of their seats, staring into each other's eyes, and occasionally looking down at certain places, thinking about what was underneath. The moment was too much for them for to be able to speak for the first couple minutes.

"How's my babygirl?" He couldn't call her his slave, not yet.

Her cute meekness returned as her cheeks flushed. She tucked her arms in front of her. "Much better now that you're here."

"You've been good since I last wrote?" he asked with raised eyebrows and a scolding tone.

"Of course," she replied with a nervous smile, hinting that she may not have been.

He shook his head; he knew she was truthful. "Good girl. You'll be rewarded when I take you home."

She closed her eyes and imagined what home was going to be like. "Three months..."

"And don't you worry about what happens after you're free. I have an apartment for us. I'm gonna get a job, and I'm gonna take care of you. Your only concern is obeying me and staying beautiful."

"So," she started, leaning closer, "what's my reward?"

He hunched over and got as close as he was allowed to be. "First, I'm going to take care of you."

"Take care of me?" Her breathing became drawn out as her cunt began to throb.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you by cleaning up my little slave so I can use her, giving her a nice, hot bath...washing her hair..." A soft moan came from her parted lips. "And giving her kisses every minute. I'll dry her up in a big, soft towel and carry her to my bed. I'm going to stroke her everywhere and kiss her more, going from her lips to the other lips that will be wet for me." Her bottom lip trembled. "I'll have to clean up that mess, lick it all up, then lick her clit until she's thrashing and begging to come."

"Oh..."

"And I'll let her. She may come as many times as she wants when I take her. Then I'm going to put her to bed, right next to me, in my arms, as she sleeps soundly and dreams of safe life with her Master."

When she opened her eyes, they were glossy with tears. She fidgeted as she started to leak. His rock hard cock made him just as uncomfortable and just as disappointed that the next few months were going to be torture.

For the rest of the hour, they talked about their future once her sentence was over. He called her his pet, slut, and babygirl just to see her squirm.

Time was up. She pouted as fresh tears started to surface.

"Three months, love. You can do it," he said. "I'll be here as many times as I can." She nodded; his words didn't ease the pain much. "And tonight, my slave, come for me." A weak smile appeared for a few seconds on her face. With superman restraint, he held back from kissing her. As she walked away, she bit her lip in her practiced coy manner. Her last glance was centered on his hidden and suppressed cock. It stayed agonizingly rigid until he was able barge through his apartment door and lie in bed, jeans falling down in the process. Flashes of the day in the dungeon lingered in his mind for purposes of private moments in his cell. The bright whip marks across her breasts - scarlet imprints on her pale tits with dark, jutting nipples -- her shorn, smooth cunt, her pearly white teeth barred and containing her cries and grunts, her gleaming eyes that proved she was a painslut. 

He grabbed his erect member and shifted in his bed to the most comfortable position. The flashbacks streamed in his mind like a chopped up movie, a stream of consciousness, random images of her body and face. He could hear her moans and uneven breathing. He could hear her begging for him to keep going. He could hear her scream for him.

"Master!" He loved hearing her call him that.

"Please, Master! Let me come!" He increased his speed.

"Please punish me, Master! I've been such a bad girl!" He remembered her pink ass and the warmth it gave off when he placed his palm on it.

"Come on me, Master!"

"Shut up you little whore and take it!" he cried out and put his full effort in ending. "Carry..." he moaned. "My little...fucking...slave..." The cum shot up. He let go and fell back to the bed, ignoring the mess on his abdomen and hand.

If she was there, he would have pointed the cum spots and she would have licked them up without hesitation. He closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that three months wasn't that far away.

~

He put in the request for the day off weeks before just to make sure it was set. The day had come, the day to bring his girl home. All morning, he scrubbed to get the accumulated dirt off his body. He was learning his trades well -- tiling, putting up drywall, and other construction jobs that he caught onto quickly. The hard labor helped with his pent up sexual energy and his mood. He felt more like a man when getting his hands filthy and using his God-given muscles for their intended purpose. He appreciated the workout. Bounty hunting didn't appeal to him anymore.

He already had thoughts of the house he planned to build for Carry and whatever family would come later on. The dungeon he constructed in his mind would be his gift to her.

Whistling, he picked up the apartment, making it 'girlfriend' ready. Candles were sporadically placed on every surface available. The scent of vanilla was strong throughout the apartment. New, extra-soft bed sheets were almost perfectly in place. Sex toys were neatly stacked in the closet. Her other presents were strategically placed in view. A huge, fluffy teddy bear held lingerie and gift cards to her favorite stores in its arms. A fresh razor, her favorite shampoo, and other feminine products were placed in the bathroom. It was all set.

His keys swung in circles off his fingers as he strolled to his car. He nodded to his neighbors, even to the obnoxious and loud couple next door. The thin walls worried him. He remembered how loud his little sub got just before she came.

He exhaled impatiently when his car went ten miles per hour over the speed limit. Twenty times he had to slow down back to seventy. He couldn't afford a ticket. He couldn't afford to gain any attention from the police. Seventy miles per hour seemed to be a crawl. Even one hundred forty wouldn't be fast enough. He was there in plenty of time. He waited, leaning on his car, eyes targeted on the prison's door.

It felt that all he had been doing for years was waiting. Waiting was a torture that he wished to dispel of forever. He squinted at the door, willing it to open. "Please hurry," he whispered. It felt that the moment when he could touch her would never come. Time was excruciatingly slow.

The giant door swung open. Carry, with her box of letters, noticed him right away. An angelic smile spread across her lips. She walked as quickly as she could and dropped the box in excitement. They ignored the spilled letters as he swept her up in his arms. Their lips locked onto each other. The beast within him was breaking out of its cage. His palms centered onto her tits, firmly grabbing them enough to make her squeak. She moaned as he lifted her shirt, just by a couple inches, to gain access to the flesh of her breasts. His mouth found its way across her neck and down to the top of her shirt's collar.

"There's a motel two miles away!" a grimacing guard yelled to them. "Get out of here!"

They scrambled throwing the papers back into the box. He took it from her, and like a gentleman, opened the passenger door for her. She slid in while studying his crotch, biting her lips and subtly licking them. Before he pulled out of the parking lot, he gave her another steamy kiss while tucking her hair behind her ear, being as sweet as he could for his freed sweetheart.

On the highway to freedom, they stayed silent. Carry rested her head on her hand as the wind whipped her hair around her through the open window. She inhaled the dusty air as much as she could. After a while, she pulled her head back in to cough as it irritated her lungs.

"I'm hungry," she announced, her first words to him.

"Whatcha want?"

"Burger, fries, and a shake." He loved how she made honest demands when she had the liberty to do so.

"Just for you, pet," he said as he smoothed her wild hair. It was a delay in his plans to take her pussy, but for a half an hour for a good meal, he would do it for her.

There were no more words, but there was a lot of hand holding and light stroking over clothing. He was tempted to pull over and fuck in her in the backseat. But she didn't give him that option. Letter seventy-two had to be taken care of first.

At the closest burger joint, he stopped. And as before, he opened the car door for her and made her blush when he demanded he do so at the restaurant's door. Carry smiled and thanked him, loving the joke that his chivalry was a false façade and that she was the one who served him. She savored the moment, knowing soon that a collar would be around her neck, and her rights would be once again, taken away.

Once their food was on the table, Carry lifted the lid from her shake and dipped a fry. She sucked up the mess and stuffed her mouth with a satisfied moan.

"Is that good?" he asked. She laughed, still chewing. She dipped some more and stuffed the rest into her burger. Milkshake and ketchup got everywhere. "Damn, you know how to eat, little one."

She ran her tongue around her lips. "Is that a problem, Master?"

"Even with you being completely disgusting, you're turning me on." She giggled and tipped the vanilla shake into her mouth. She swallowed and winced as brain freeze settled in. "Am I allowed to make demands on what I want to eat? Or is that your decision, Master?"

He wiped his hands and tossed the napkin on his plate. He straightened and looked her in the eye. "I want you to completely trust me. I want you to give up all control. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. You do whatever I say. Complete obedience. The safe word is vanilla." He broke character and slumped a little. "You trust me, right?" The dominance had vanished making him seem vulnerable and fearful of her rejecting him.

"Of course, Master." She held his hand.

It was what he needed to hear, the words that sealed the deal. He leaned back. "You have a collar waiting for you at home. We'll start slowly; only for hours at a time will you be collared. But I expect you to respect and obey me all the time. I will just be more lenient with you when you don't have it on." He reached over and stroked her face. "You will call me Master when you're my slave. Use 'Sir' when we're in private. And you get to choose what to call me in public. But don't use my name only if you have to."

She rocked back and placed her chin on her folded hands. "Would pumpkin or cutie bear work?"

His eyes narrowed as he shook his finger at her. "You watch it, little lady."

She smirked and stood. "Excuse me," she said as she headed for the restroom, taking sarcastic looks back at him on her way there. He shook his head, hand still pointing at her.

As he lowered his arm, he glanced around the tables. One elderly lady nearby gave him a strange look as she observed and overheard part of the prior conversation. He ran his hand through his hair, keeping his head down, and ate her leftover crunchy fri bits under the women's severe gaze. When Carry came back, he greeted her with a loving smile, overacting with paranoia that someone was going to keep them from each other.

On the way home, he answered all the questions she hadn't asked, impressed that her trust in him was natural. She assumed money and shelter were taken care of. The details didn't concern her either. He told her anyway, but the closer they got, the more his suppressed lust silenced him. Knowing how soon his dick was to infiltrating her tight, dripping pussy made their breathing shallow. Carry squirmed. The friction against her clit prepped her for his entry. Felix couldn't keep the swelling down. Every second that passed since they got off the highway was physically painful. The throbbing of his slave's cunt was too much. He heard whimpers come from the passenger seat every few seconds.

His plan, detailed and precise, on what he was going to do to her was falling apart. Waiting an hour to mount her was sadistic to himself. He needed her warm cunt right away. The one promise he made to her had to be kept first. She had to pay for the violation of letter seventy-two. He originally wanted to take an hour to slowly whip her naked body. A quicker and still painful punishment had to replace his initial fantasy.

Many punishments that he had thought about came to mind. The one that stood out most was her, naked and tied to the bed. Then he remembered the wide belt that he wore for work. Whipping her allover would have to wait. A good spanking with a belt would work just as well.

Her eyes were closed. Her mind was focused on the moment she waited too long for. He parked and shut off the engine. Both threw off their seat belt. Carry fidgeted as her Master ran to the other side of the car and dragged her out. With a grip tight on her wrist, he led her, at a run, up the stairs and to their apartment door. Finally inside, he slammed the door behind him. Her eyes were mostly on him than her new home. Once he dropped the keys, she pounced, ready to kiss him, but he put his hand in front of her face.




Claiming His Bounty Ch. 03



"Not yet." She whimpered; her bottom lip jutted out in a pathetic pout. "We have business to take care of," he said with a raised eyebrow. He grasped her hand and led her to the bedroom. She observed the apartment as she was towed along. She noticed the bear, the gifts, the scent of vanilla tainted with the odor of cleaning chemicals, the tidiness. He succeeded in impressing her. At the doorway of the bedroom, she saw a queen sized bed adorned with new, fluffy sheets.

"Sit," he said, nodding at the bed. She complied, nervously watching his arms fold in front of his chest. "What happened with letter seventy-two?" She winced as if he struck her. "Speak, slave."

Tears started to form. "Master, please don't be mad at me." She sniffled. "I lost control. I needed you so badly. It was such a long wait, a whole week. My pussy was really throbbing. I was leaking all over the place! I couldn't wait, Master."

"That's not a good enough excuse for disobeying me. You blew your perfect record. I appreciate your honesty of admitting to your crime, and I also appreciate you being good after. Yet neither can redeem you. Every infraction deserves a punishment. What kind of Master would I be if I was lenient with my slave?"

Her head fell with a nod. "I'm sorry, Master."

"Let's get to it." He opened the closet door to retrieve four ties. With the door opened, she peeked into the closet that held boxes of toys and smiled despite the situation she was in. "Strip," he commanded, unfolding the ties. She shed the attire, slowly, but in no way suggestive. She trembled under his glare and shook as each piece dropped to a pile at the end of the bed. Being bound for a physical reprimand instilled fear in her. She wasn't sure if she could take it being out of practice. Eyes down, she didn't see his smile when her tits were revealed.

"Face down." Crawling, she maneuvered onto the bed and let each limb fall to the corners. He took away the pillows, and one after another, secured each arm and leg to bed's bottom frame. "Try to escape." She tugged four times. The knots were tight. "Good."

Her breathing came out strong. Panic made her chest beat harder. Her trust in him waned when suddenly, she felt being bound was too much to handle.

He grabbed his only belt, a wide and simple leather implement that caused a hell of a sting. He gave a weak warm up smack against his leg. The sound of the snap made her jolt and gasp, almost making her shriek. He stepped to the left of her and caressed her ass with the folded strip of leather. She whimpered as she considered calling out the safe word.

"I will not have my slave doing what she pleases." He aimed for lowest part of her ass and brought his arm back.

She yelped at the loud 'whap!' In an instant, fear was replaced by a moan of pleasure as the branded stripe in her flesh burned. The warmth was more comfortable than painful.

"My slave will serve me, not herself!" The next hit landed with a louder smack. A loud, animal-like groan escaped her lips. Two hot lines marked her ass.

"If this happens again, which it should not, your punishment will be much worse." Twice, he landed the belt in the same spot.

"Nooo..." she cried out. The pain wasn't as welcoming anymore. She twitched at each hit and tugged at her bindings, wanting to escape. The fourth strike almost knocked tears out of her.

"I know your wild nature. That's why I purchased a cane and several painful whips." She tried to protest before he brought the belt back down. She could handle whips but had a severe weakness against canes. She sucked in her breath at the next stinging hit.

It was the smack that formed tears. "Sss...sorry...Master..."

"I thought you like pain, pet!" he loudly said over her sobbing and raised his arm.

"Keep it down over there!" a man said with a firm knock on their wall. Felix paused, arm in the air. His slave immediately ceased her wailing. They stayed, stunned, for seconds.

"I think he's beating her," a woman said on the other side of the wall. Felix froze, terror gripping his heart. Thoughts of cops coming by, arresting him, taking him away from her again rushed through his mind.

His quick-thinking slave laughed, hard and loud, enough for all three surrounding neighbors to hear.

"Hit me again, babe!" she screamed. He contained his laughter. Relieved that his girl would never betray him, he raised his arm again. She buried her head in the sheets to muffle her screams.

SMACK!

She buckled and yelled into the soft comforter.

A louder sharp SMACK!

Another scream that only her Master could hear.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! in rapid succession.

Hearing her sobs and seeing her cherry colored ass created an agonizing erection. She moved her head and sucked in huge breaths through her wet, clinging hair. Her weeping continued, the guilt of her disobedience made her cry harder. Her Master tossed the belt away from the bed then dug his fingers into her soaked pussy. A smile broke through her tears accompanied by a shiver. With one finger, he firmly pressed her clit. Her hips shifted, making his fingers rub against her.

"You little pain whore," he said with a snicker. He abandoned her cunt and wiped the wet off on his jeans. Her ankles were released followed by her wrists. He tugged her legs and flipped her onto her back. She inhaled sharply as her beaten flesh slid across the bed. He rapidly stripped, threw on protection, and pounced on the bed where he opened her already parted legs wider. He gripped her ankles and set them on his shoulders. Twice, he entered her part way, loosening her up for the one hard shove straight inside.

Her eyes rolled back and her consciousness waned. He thrust again, deeper, hitting the legendary spot somewhere in her slit that made her moan in a way that wasn't human. At his next shove, she blindly threw her hands over her head and found the headboard. She gripped the edge and held on as he tipped himself over her more and slid in again.

"Oh-" she moaned as he hit the 'x' right on. Through half-closed eyelids, she watched his lips lift into an arrogant smirk. He clenched her ankles and increased his speed, making the woman underneath thrash as her cunt took a series of hard pounds.

"Too intense Master too INTENSE!" she screeched. He shook his head. He wasn't going to stop.

A final deep throated growl erupted from her lips. Her face contorted for a full twenty seconds as the muscles in her pussy rapidly tightened around his member. Her hands struck the headboard and wall behind her while she came with everything she had. All her limbs went limp at once. Her arms fell to the bed. Her eyes closed. The neighbors responded with knocks on the same wall, yet she barely heard them.

Her Master eased her legs to his sides and pinned her wrists on top of each other over her head. While his hands cuffed hers, he pounded her selfishly, not caring if she needed a second release. Being used as his own slut kept her mind buzzed with pleasure although physically she was losing lubrication.

The headboard slammed into the wall. He drowned out the sounds of the rhythmic beating and the yelling on its other side. His eyes focused on the bobbling tits below him until she opened hers. Seeing how much she appreciated being used and mistreated drove him closer to his end. Exhaling in quick huffs, he tightened his clutch on her wrists as two years of frustration shot out of him, making his world black and dizzy for several seconds.

When his vision returned he saw the woman he loved looking back at him. He kissed the shy smile on her lips then her forehead. His finger traced across her neck, imagining a thick strip of leather buckled around it. His good slave was dreaming of the same thing. She involuntarily gulped as if a collar had restricted her neck.

"I'm not gonna let anything come in between us, love." He kissed her long and hard. "Promise."

On his way to clean up he opened the door to the closet and smiled upon the many toys he crammed inside. There wasn't a rush to try them all. As far as he was concerned, he had the rest of his life with her as his slave, sweetheart, and companion.

To be continued to the last chapter.



Claiming His Bounty Ch. 04



Carry forced a moan as her lips encased her Master's spit-lubed cock. Her tongue swirled around his member while she started to bob her head back and forth. Her Master exhaled, relaxing, as his slave serviced him. His half-closed eyes looked over her head at the baseball game on the television. Her Master's smooth, rigid dick usually calmed her troubles when she licked it over and over. It was her tranquilizer, her therapy. But that day, pleasing her Master couldn't calm her nerves. He didn't notice her distraction. His euphoria clouded his mind and made the TV set in front of him blurred and noiseless.

She put her full concentration on pumping his wet and trembling cock. Smirking, he settled himself deeper into the couch. Head tilted back, he moaned softly.

"Swallow," Felix commanded.

Because she was a good slave, she gulped down the jizz that shot down her throat. His body slumped more as she delicately cleaned him with her tongue. She sat back on her heels, head down, licking the mess on her lips after she was finished mopping up his softening dick. Her Master cracked his neck and sat upright, smiling not only because she gave him another exceptional blowjob but because his team got two runs and were ahead while he was visiting paradise. Recovering from his trip, he sat up right and patted the space next to him.

"Sit with me." She crawled up the couch and curled up in a ball next to him. Her hands tightly gripped his arm. "Do you have any requests for today?"

It was the question she anxiously waited for all morning. "Master, may I please go shopping? I need more beautiful adornments for my sexy body."

The corners of his mouth turned up. He loved her honest demands. The way she pleaded for something was always direct, firm, and almost arrogant because he rarely denied her. "Bring me your other collar."

Off the couch and onto all fours, she crawled the small distance to the bedroom. Her privilege to walk was revoked two weeks ago. Her perfect obedience for the past month annoyed her Master. He tested her limits, but she remained a good girl. He disciplined her to remind his slave of her subservience.

She took the necklace from the dresser and carried it in her mouth, grimacing at the taste. Kneeling, she dropped the heavy, linked gold necklace onto his lap. He switched the collars from leather to metal, from her private collar to her public collar. It was heavy and chunky with a stunning lock pendant and worth a couple paychecks. He stroked her face. "Three hours."

With the other collar on, she gained back her freedom to walk. She stood and flashed a smile. He twisted her naked tits, kissed her, and snapped her thong. She playfully flinched and returned to the bedroom.

She stood in the doorway and took a deep breath, trying to build up her courage. Her hands trembled as she put on a plain shirt and khaki pants. She shoved her id, phone, and a few dollars in her pocket, then grabbed her sunglasses and the car keys. She knelt before the couch.

"I love you, Master. Forever."

"Love you too," he said casually with barely a smile. It wasn't as passionate as she wanted his words to be. But she knew he loved her deeply. She nodded and got back up. Before she stepped outside, she looked back at him. Her Master kept his eyes on the TV. She closed the door behind her and shuddered. A lump appeared in her throat. Her chest started to ache.

She steadied herself going down the stairs. Her sweating hand gripped the railing to keep her from falling. At the carport where their car was parked, she released the necklace and placed it on the driver's seat. She locked the car and put the keys on top of the front tire. Goosebumps dotted her skin although it was just over 85 degrees. As if freezing, she wrapped her arms around her and walked out of the apartment complex, two streets east, and to a bus stop with five others waiting.

Carry left him with the car. She couldn't just take it with her. The grinding brakes and the snort of the bus coming to a stop startled her from her thoughts. She boarded the first bus out of two that she would take to get to the other side of the county.

Sniffling, she took her phone from her pocket and reread the text message.

"Saturday. 23516 Riverside Rd. Be there before sunset or your boyfriend is dead."

She bit her lip and allowed a couple tears fall. Her past should have remained in the past. After prison, everything that happened before should have been resolved. Her psycho ex destroyed her life. Felix saved it. But old clients of her former boyfriend were pissed that she put the bastard in jail. They were out of business without the most powerful criminal in the county. One client decided to make her pay. She didn't want to drag her loving Master into her past again.

Leaving a note wasn't an option for her. His skip tracing skills would have led him to her. She feared that leaving the necklace and not explaining her intentions would make him think she abandoned him. She imagined the look on his face when his heart broke. Her heart hurt imagining his distress when he found the necklace.

She wished she knew how they would dispose her body. There was hope that her Master would be able to find her remains. That way he would know that she didn't leave him. But if she were chopped to pieces, cremated, left in the desert, grossly disfigured, or buried in a deep grave, her set up would be in vain. She didn't want him to believe she ditched him. She wanted him to know, eventually, that she died to protect him. The guise of leaving him would give him a delay before he started his search.

The sniffles were harder to control. She brought her knees up to her chest and curled up on the small seat. Fear was taking over her braveness. She wanted to run back home and cling to her Master. They didn't leave a clue to how quick her death would be. Thoughts of being tortured to a slow death caused her to vomit the past two days. She faked a smile for her Master and was a good enough actress for him not to notice how pale her skin was.

It was difficult for her to accept that she would die that day. How and when was a painful mystery she endured while she cradled herself on a cramped, hot bus on the way to her execution.

~

Felix paced around the apartment, aimlessly wandering, cell phone in his hand. The fifth call went straight to voicemail. Her phone was off. It had been four hours since she left. Half an hour ago, he started choosing implements and planned her punishment. But he placed those aside as his worries took over. She had never been that disobedient before.

His imagination went wild, fueled by his fear. She could have been in an accident, kidnapped, or killed in some other way.

"No, not now," he whispered. He thought about the engagement ring he kept hidden in his closet. His procrastination proposing to her made him sick. It was over a year since they were released from prison. He didn't know why he didn't have the guts to propose on their first anniversary. If she was dead, he didn't get a chance to prove his love for her in the form of beautiful ring he bought three months ago. Unlike their alternative lifestyle, the ring wasn't dark or gothic. It was a simple diamond set in white gold. He thought something sparkly and shiny fit her personality best. Although sexy and kinky, her childlike smile and exaggerated coyness were the initial qualities every other jealous dom saw when they met her. She was bright beacon, a cheerful slave, in the BDSM world.

His worries consumed him to the point where he could barely breathe. He turned on his laptop and waited impatiently as it booted up. The gps tracker would let him know where she was. Their car was a popular choice amongst thieves. He set up everything right after he brought her home from prison, when his paranoia was at his peak. He never used the equipment to spy on her; he always trusted her.

He opened the program and stared at the screen for awhile. He then leaped from the couch and sprinted to the carport where the car stayed for the past few hours.

~

The setting sun provided little light through the cracks of wood slats that formed the walls and ceiling of a poorly constructed extension to the house. The room reeked of the deaths that had occurred there. Carry got used to its putrid odor.

There was a dirty gag in between her jaws. Her arms stretched upward. Her wrists were tied together and bound to a bar above her head. Her legs were spread with her ankles shackled to the wall. She alternated hanging her head and resting it up right to keep her neck limber. Her focus was to keep from succumbing to panic. She did what she did best – stay bound for long periods at a time.

Carry didn't know why her captures hadn't killed her as soon as she surrendered. She could barely hear the conversation on the other side of the door. They seemed to be having a long discussion that went on for hours on how to kill her and what to do with her body. She wasn't sure what the delay was. The mental torture of waiting was just as worse as her sore muscles.

Three questions lingered in her mind. When was she going to take her last breath? How much was her death going to hurt? Would her Master be able to find her body?

The third drove her to tears. It was hard to keep them away. She had to. Her gagged mouth made breathing a struggle. A running or plugged up nose would make breathing impossible.

Her Master rarely used gags on her when she was bound. Its main use was to quiet her intense orgasms or severe whippings because of the thin walls of their apartment. If it was merely used to muffle her, Felix applied flavored lube to the ball. She appreciated his creativity during play and punishment. He wasn't like her older masters, doing the same things the same way over and over. He incorporated love and laughter in everything he did to her or with her.

Like the day when her Master searched the apartment for things to spank her with. He tried books, frying pans, rolling pins, silverware, wet towels. They couldn't contain their laughter any longer when he took an old keyboard to her ass. He made her whippings interesting too. Sometimes, he made her count to a number in Roman numerals or recite a poem that he wrote or say the alphabet backward before he would stop swinging the flogger. He would make her say weird, embarrassing, and dirty things during sex. He would make her eat dessert for breakfast. He would throw food at her to catch with her teeth. She remembered trying to catch pancakes on all fours and giggling so much she could barely breathe.

He knew when to limit the fun. Besides being his companion, she was mostly his slave. His dominance over her remained every second of every day. He took his control over her seriously. When he ordered her to suck his cock, no matter where they were, she got on her knees. When he said no to her, she didn't sulk. A few times, she whined when she felt that he was unfair to her. All those mistakes earned her punishment.

He would leave her bound, blinded, and in a silent room for hours at a time. He tied her to crosses, benches, and the bed. Sometimes she sported marks from lashes. Sometimes clamps and tassels hung from her tits. Sometimes her ass was bruised and heated. Always after punishment, he treated her like a goddess and let her come over and over until her body went completely limp. When he returned from cleaning up, she would be curled up in a ball and asleep on the bed, passed out from her rough fucking.

She never had a better Master, lover, and protector. Her eyes became glossy thinking of what he could be doing at that moment. She could imagine him, crying and calling her name. A few tears that she couldn't control rolled down her cheeks.

~

The pain was unbearable. Every muscle ached and trembled. Her arms strained; her wrists stretched. She felt that her arms were going to detach at the wrists. She wanted to lie on the floor, even if it was covered with rat dung and blood. Complete darkness surrounded her. Every once in a while, she heard noises and voices come from the house, then fade away. She wanted to hear more. She needed to hear that they were still with her. She had to know they didn't leave her to die, shackled and alone.

The want to die grew stronger. The wait was excruciating. She hoped her life would end with a simple question: head or chest? Other possibilities brought her close to throwing up on herself. Burning to death, drowning, electrocution, disembowelment – all caused her to shake more. If they did give her the option to take a bullet, she wasn't sure which to pick. She didn't know which was a quicker, less painful death.

It was only fair to go with a shot through her chest. She murdered her Master's heart. She should be punished as so.

Glowing balls and streaks of light flashed around the room. A young girl said, "I love you," into her ear. A radio playing classical music was somewhere in the room. Faces, evil and innocent, appeared in front of her. She hung her head and closed her eyes to block out the hallucinations.

"It will be over soon," she whispered through her parched mouth. A small speck of hope that her Master would rescue her kept her strong enough to withstand the torture.

~

Piss streamed down her leg. She moaned every few seconds. She was too tired to cry. It was difficult to distinguish the voices on the other side of the door and the voices of demons that growled at her, encouraging her to give up. Her last bit of mental energy concentrated fully on the question she was too scared to face: what would happen to her soul? The good deeds she did in life came to her memory, but they were soon clouded by the sins she committed. The times she helped her sadistic ex-boyfriend would make her resume for heaven heavily blemished. She never gave too much thought about the afterlife, if there was one. But she trembled with the horrifying judgment of an eternity in hell. If any or all religions were correct all along, she feared what would happen as soon as the bullet pierced her heart. She said an awkward prayer, a plea, to whoever was in charge, that her soul would be spared from burning in the fiery abyss. She concluded the prayer with a wish that her life would be over soon.

Slowly, she lifted her head when yelling and scuffling came from behind the door. Men shouted over each other. A couple howled in pain. Doors slammed against the walls as they were thrown open. Her head fell. A few tears dropped to the ground. Her time had come.

The door crashed into the wall. She couldn't see the person who barged in. She felt the gag slip from her mouth. Her ankles were released. She buckled and put more strain on her wrists. A body, a man, put his weight against her to keep her up right as her untied her wrists. She moaned loudly as pain shot through her body. Dizziness made her fall into the man's arms. He carefully flipped her over his shoulder and carried her out of the room.

Her eyes were blurry but she was able to make out the scene around her. Men handcuffed other men. A few of her captures gave her dirty looks. The cool, outdoor air kept her conscious until she was gently set in the backseat of a car. The car's familiar smell made her feel safe enough to close her eyes and give in to her exhaustion.

~

Most of the pain dissipated when she woke up. Carry sat up from where she lay in the backseat of their car. Outside the window, sand and cacti streaked by.

"What were you thinking?" She looked into the rearview mirror and saw her Master's bloodshot eyes glaring at her. She rested her forehead against the seat and moaned softly as her sore muscles throbbed when she moved.

"I didn't want them to kill you."

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "I told you that I would take care of you. I told I would never let anything come in between us. I TOLD YOU-" He took a deep, shuddered breath. "I told you I would protect you."

She avoided his eyes and stared into the fabric of the seat. Regret caused her to tremble and wish her Master's arm were holding her tightly. She swallowed; her dry throat created more pain. "Where are we going?"

"You'll find out later," he snapped. He had just enough sympathy to forgive her for forgetting her manners and addressing him correctly. He understood her fatigue was too much for her to think properly. But since she was physically better, he couldn't drop the rage he felt.

Mentally, she didn't have the energy to guess where they were headed. She lay against the door and tried to get comfortable.

"I called in many favors with old friends still in the business," he said, the fury in his voice dropped a bit, "and they got paid well last night. Nearly all of the bastards were wanted in some way or another." He didn't need to further explain how he found her. She groaned, barely audible. She should have known that his skip tracing skills would lead him to her every time.

They continued on the highway, neither speaking. His weary and narrowed eyes stayed on the road. When her head stopped pounding, she took peeks outside to gain any clues of their destination. At the next rest stop, he pulled over and let her rest. Her legs wobbled. It took her a while to walk normally. She used the restroom and splashed cool water on her face. Under his furious eyes, she paced and stuffed sugar and salt from the vending machine down her throat. She was working on her second bottle of water when they hit the road again.

Half an hour later, the scene became vaguely familiar. As they turned down a dirt road, the shed and trailer came into view. They arrived at the dungeon. It looked the same as it had been three years ago. She wasn't sure if they were there to hide again or her Master had plans to use the dungeon. Plans that involved a shed full of punishment equipment.

He guided her to the trailer instead and laid her on the bed inside. She fell asleep within a minute.

~

The only sound she heard upon wakening was her Master's breathing. She felt his drawn out breaths against her bare neck. She lengthened her spine to stretch. The slight movement woke Felix up. His arm instinctively tightened around her waist. His grip on her became stronger suddenly, then he released her as he exhaled. He brought his arm back.

"Face me."

She rolled over and looked into his eyes. He turned briefly and reached behind him, grabbing something she couldn't see.

"I'm not asking you. I'm making you whether you want it or not. If you decide that you no longer want to be with me, you can give me this later. But for now..." He took her left hand and slid the diamond on her finger. She had no control over the tears flooding her eyes. She buried her head in his chest. "I do have a question." His lips formed a tight line. "Dinner or punishment first?"

Her hunger pangs quickly turned to nausea. Eating then with the reminder of a severe punishment would be impossible. She whimpered as if he already started whipping her. "Punishment first, Master," she said, trying to catch her breath before she started bawling.

Emotionless, he said, "Meet me in the shed in five minutes."

"Yes, Master," she said softly with a sniffle as he left.

It was obvious that her punishment was going to painful. The pain would go past the limits where it was pleasurable. He would make sure she wouldn't dampen and moan when he struck her. The guilt she held inside made every heartbeat hurt. There was no way she could enjoy the pain when her remorse was already beating her up.

Head hung low, she entered the shed and waited for his commands. He strode quickly from the end of the room to the door and grabbed a handful of her hair. Yanking it without mercy, he led her to the middle of the room. He placed her chain necklace around her neck. She didn't move and kept her eyes down while standing at attention. Pocketknife in hand, he tugged at her shirt, letting its blade rip through the fabric. Her pants were next. She took off her shoes at his command and shivered as the blade rested against her shoulder, ready to saw through the straps of her bra.




Claiming His Bounty Ch. 04



He made two cuts through each strap and released the clasps. He flung the damaged bra to the ground, discarding it like trash. Carefully, he slashed her panties at the seams and ripped them off of her. He kicked the pile of clothing away and set the knife aside. Inches from her, he crossed his arms and towered over his quivering slave.

"What were you thinking?" he asked slowly and evenly. "Did you even think about how your actions would affect me? I thought you were dead!" The echoes of his screaming bounced around the shed. "You deceived me. You disobeyed me. You didn't allow me to take care of the situation. What you did was very stupid, slave." He circled her like a hawk eyeing its prey. "You ran away without a note or a hint. Did you want to make me believe that you just left me? Is that why you took your collar off – without my permission – and abandoned it like trash? Did you really think I couldn't find you?"

He stood right behind her, breathing on her neck. "You scared the hell out of me!" he yelled in her ear. She flinched. "You will never run away again! You will never be so disobedient again! You will never give me a reason to worry again!" He stepped around and faced her. "Get on the floor, you fucking cunt." His words felt like a stab in the chest. She shook on her way down and prostrated before him. "Beg for my forgiveness."

"I'm sorry, Master," she pleaded as fast falling tears pooled onto the floor. "I will never do that again. I swear I won't. I wanted to protect you, Master. I was very stupid. Please, don't go easy on me. I deserve the harshest of punishments from my loving Master." She was starting to lose control over her sobs. "Please forgive your slave. I did it because I love you, Master."

"I am far from ready to forgive you yet. Get up." She dragged herself up and didn't brush off the dirt that clung to her naked front. He roughly grabbed her arm and led her to a bench. "You will not be bound. You had enough of that torture. But you will be as still as possible. If you dare move, you will receive another ten."

Trembling and nauseated, she bent over and grasped a bar on the bottom of the bench. His words resonated in her mind. "Another ten..." he yelled in her head over and over. It meant many strokes with an implement that would leave her screaming.

"Don't move at all," she said in a low whisper to herself. "Just scream and hold on. Don't let go."

The bottom of a wooden cane scrapped against the floor in front of her. Wide-eyed, she bit her lip to keep from whimpering and begging for him to go easy on her. Before he started, he crouched in front of her and twisted her tits mercilessly until they jutted out. He attached a barely padded clamp to each nipple. She gripped the bench as the pain seared through her breasts. She sucked in her breath through gritted teeth and twitched when her eyes saw only black for a couple seconds.

"You will receive thirty. If you move, you will get ten more. And I'm not going easy on you. These won't be light taps. Count them. If I have to wait for you, I will keep going until I hear the correct number. This is your only warning." Clenching and severely trembling, she felt like giving up. The cane was her weakness. She had thrown up before other canings. She waited for number one while contemplating running away.

The first knocked the air out of her. Her knuckles turned white holding onto the bars. The first stripe burned squarely in the middle. Her Master wasn't lying about his swings not being taps. The pain felt like a full swing.

"One!"

Her confidence crumbled at the thought of enduring twenty-nine more. Panic made her struggle against the mental chains he placed on her. She reminded herself that it could thirty-nine instead. At the moment, she wished she was bound. Her self-control was weaker than ever.

After a small whoosh, another line of searing pain branded her. "Fu – two!" she almost cussed. Her pinched tits and beaten ass equaled each other in pain. Both front and back throbbed.

The third made her buckle and hold onto dear life. "Three!" She breathed in gulps. Tears were starting to surface again. She knew the next whack would revive her bawling.

Number four hit where ass and thighs met. She screamed and succumbed to sobs. Her body violently shook. "F-four!" she managed to call out.

She jerked again and almost lost her grip. "FI-IVE!" Her whole ass burned. It felt that no place had been left untouched.

"SIX! AHH...gaw..." She was sure blood was spurting from the blunt hits.

The seventh stripe welted across the first swollen lines. Her legs kicked up; her body squirmed side to side. "Seven!"

She struggled with each excruciating stroke.

"Eeeleven!" Her face twisted with pain.

"Nineteen!" she screamed quickly.

He didn't hesitate and kept his rhythm.

"Twenty-twoo s-sorry Maaster..."

At twenty-six, she stopped screaming after each hit.

"Twenty-seven," she said in a strained voice.

Keeping herself upright was difficult when her body wanted to collapse from pain. "Twenty-" She hiccupped. "Eight."

Her legs were ready to give out. She screamed her mind, "Two more! Just two more!"

All she could think about then was the blood that the cane smacked out of her. "Tweenntty-nnniiiinnneee..." The tears never ceased to spill from her eyes. Knowing how close she was to the end created more.

The last one seared through the top layers of her skin. "Thirty!" She inhaled and exhaled rapidly, nearly hyperventilating. He tossed the cane away and caught her waist. Reaching around to her front, he gently released the clamps. He knelt behind her and helped her off the bench and onto his lap.

"Come here, love." She cried harder at his sweet words and straddled him, being careful not to let her ass come in contact with anything. Her arms wrapped around his neck; her wet face buried into his chest. He stroked her spine and the back of her head. She cried until she calmed to hiccups.

"I love you forever, babygirl."

"I love you too, Master," she said as she played with the ring on her finger. "Am I bleeding badly?"

He laughed. "No. I would never make you bleed. I will never hurt you like that." He brought her head back to his shoulder. "I forgive you. Don't ever think that I can't take care of you."

"Sorry, Master."

Her stupidity made her blush with shame. Her Master was supposed to protect her; that was his job. As she finished crying in his arms, she thought about the chain collar around her neck and the ring on her finger both symbolizing his love for her. She clung onto her Master and soon-to-be husband, feeling safe, loved, and protected.